#what the fuck is wrong with some of you

[canadiankels]

[kamisadopteddaughter]

Seriously if I were Rhea I would literally never share anything about my private life on social media. Why in the world are you people sharing photos from her personal life that she hasn't posted? Why are you analyzing the background of her friend's photos trying to find "clues"? Do you guys have no decency? Her personal life is not content or entertainment for you. We've already gone down this route when you shared engagement photos she wasn't even aware had been posted. Don't post pictures she hasn't posted, do not follow her friends, do not follow her family, do not seek out anything about her personal life.

[thefloatingwriter]

this fandom scares me :)

[nancylou444]

I just blocked a lot of assholes in the 9/11 tag. It was trending (dah) and I wanted to see what was there.

Some things you don't joke about.

[fruitbasket-gossip]

starin at the dash like

-mod liechi

[shealmostdrowned-archive]

seeing people be really rude and weird about how taylor talks/moves/behaves and i'm not seeing anything odd about it. i'm confused what y'all are seeing. regardless, don't be fucking mean

swifties be normal about regular human behavior challenge

[justnoodlefishthings]

The way people demonize seagulls is actually unreal. Almost all of their natural habitat has been destroyed (almost all coastal areas have been developed, destroying natural sand dune ecosystems) and they're doing their best to adapt. They're literally just trying to survive. You're in their home. The vitriol some people have for these gorgeous sea birds just because they're not shy about snatching food if you're not cautious is insane

[birdhousematerial]

just saw a nat edit to hard times and let me tell you i was already slipping

[prlssprfctn]

Batboys, who finally got Jason to agree to join them in their Farm Weekends at Kents, and who beforehand warned Kon and Jon that, well, Jason can be a little flippant, but it nothing personal, only to find out that Jason has an awful, tooth-rotting soft spot for Supers.

Kon, sighing: Okay, Jon, remember, this guy is probably like Damian but older and worse... On the other side, you probably would like that, but just in case if he makes you cry, call me. I'll deal with him. Jon, giggling: Don't worry, Kon. Jason, appearing on the doorsteps: Hey, little ones. I wasn't sure what people usually bring as a gift when they are staying at someone, so I bought the bunch of sweets for ya. You don't mind, do you? Kon: L-little ones? Jon: SWEETS!

Batboys are flabbergasted. Jason never acts like this with them, so what the actual fuck. Tim checks on Jason's temperature, like, three times in the row, and gets his hand smacked. Damian stares at Jason, trying to figure out if the Pit madness had returned in a different light. They have no explanation for this.

Kon: Dude, you said that he was meanie. Tim: He IS. Usually. Kon: I don't know, man... He lets Jon sit on his shoulders and piggybacked me this morning. That's not really mean to me. Tim: WELL. HE NEVER DOES THIS WITH US. Kon: Maybe he just doesn't like you that much. Tim: SHUT UP.

Jason, helping to Lois with some chores: So, I need some help in stalls. Pretty boy, come and help me. Kon: (keeps standing cluelessly) Jason: (glares at him, confused) Kon: Oh! I am pretty boy? Jason: Yeah? Chop-chop, come on. Tim, muttering: All I get is Timbers. And Timberline. And Timmers.

Jason, cooing on Jon: Aw-w, here goes my itty bitty tiny- Damian: (growls) Tim: Somebody sedate me. Kon, twirling around in new leather jacket that he stole from Jason: Yeah, we are his new siblings at this point.

Dick: I am. SO. Happy. That. Little. Wing. Finally. Can. Unleash his. True. Cringey brother. Personality. Tim, concerned: Is that kryptonite in your hands? Dick: No. No. Don't get me wrong. I am very happy. I had waited for this day for years, even. Well. I expected ME to be his itty bitty tiny weenie. But. That's fine. I am fine. Damian: I'll fetch father... Tim: Yeah. Please.

[a-bad-case-of-the-stephs]

As much as I like the idea of Steph getting-over-it™️ and moving-on™️, no longer being defined by the shitty actions of men in her life, I also really really like the idea of a Steph who can’t fully let go. Steph who picks fights with Bruce for no reason. Steph who says things to him that sting, unwarranted, out of nowhere, not even because he did anything recently, at least nothing she can consciously recall, just like automatically. Steph who for a single, just one single half second, gets jealous of a ‘good work’ and pat on the shoulder, and immediately afterward feels an immediate overwhelming wave of revulsion so intense she thinks she might throw up. Steph who gets weird looks from Cass, Steph who gets glares and awkward coughs when she says something out of pocket, Steph who gets asked why she’s being immature, why shes stirring up shit for no reason, Steph who doesn’t know how to answer that, because she doesn’t know why she did that, she doesn’t know why she keeps doing it, it just keeps happening. Steph who doesn’t know how to stop or even if she wants to stop or not. Steph who doesn’t really need to make a conscious effort to avoid being left alone with Batman, but who still takes pains to avoid it, just in case, just in case, because what would she say then? What would he say then? What could either of them possibly say to each other at this point. What kind of horrible resolution would happen, what kind of terrible breaking point would manifest, what could either of them say? Nothing good, Steph knows. Nothing good. So she takes pains to avoid being alone with him.

[jpg-of-dorian-slay]

no bc jackie wanted to be loved so badly and she cared so much for everyone on her team, she did their face paint and misty's makeup and tried to boost morale and she loves shauna so fucking much and they exiled her and they left her outside and she froze to death. they literally froze her out. i'm genuinely never getting over her death bc she did not deserve that and all they would have had to do was ask her to come inside and if shauna was just like "hey i love you i'm sorry" she would have come inside. SHE WOULD HAVE COME INSIDE GUYS.

[ursula-legun]

idk man i don't think anti-civ shit should be nearly this controversial.

"some societies, including most if not all contemporary societies, require slavery, state coercion, and/or environmental devastation to maintain the benefits that they provide to their citizens. we think that this is bad, and should not be done, and are willing to give up the benefits that require slavery, state coercion, and/or environmental devastation." -> generally admirable even if people don't put it into action that much; few would say somebody is a bad person for feeling this way.

"most modern technology, including motor vehicles, cheap computers, disposable plastics, our entire global transportation chain, and like half of 'renewable' energy solutions require either environmental devastation, capitalist coercion, or slavery to produce and maintain; i.e., they either cannot be made without destroying species or ecosystems, OR nobody is willing to do them except under threat of death - at least in the ways that we currently know how to produce these things" -> not considered to be in good taste to point out but generally hard to argue; usually handwaved with notions of "green tech" coming in to make things better, that we just need new engineering improvements, that we can harvest from the moon(??), that we can just stay inside all the time(???), etc.

"combining the first two things, we think that the production of these things should stop immediately, and that society should learn how to survive only on things that we know how to create and maintain without slavery or ecocide; at least until such a time as we develop means of production that are communal, and well-integrated into the rest of life on earth" -> generally considered naive and unrealistic but still admirable

"no, seriously, the slavery, societal unrest, psychic flood, and environmental devastation are all real, and directly responsible for the apocalypse that we literally all now acknowledge to be happening right now" -> also generally accepted, generally handwaved with weird "well what can you do?" responses

"so we really think we should stop making these things NOW instead of waiting on more far-fetched solutions that will come too late to save most life on earth." -> well now you're just the fucking devil. I guess.

[unpretty]

Kitty as someone in a government position whose division is currently in the middle of a multi-year project where we are migrating essential software from old and busted to new cloud version of same software I cannot express how seen your post made me feel. Especially as the youngest supervisor in the group I keep asking questions and just get “idk man that’s what we do” and I’m like “…shouldn’t you know why though? If you does someone know why this is done?” (The answer is no, no one knows why this is done)

yeah i left out the detail that i'm not corporate because of my concern that post would escape containment and context. but know that the details i changed were actually even more horrifying in their original form. like. realizing that this was what they'd been doing this whole time absolutely floored me with the implications.

the thing IS that this was just the upgrade from the old version of this company's software to the cloud software. we have another team helping us migrate from a different company onto theirs for actual financial software, which is taking longer.

BUT the migration team actually asks for our processes so they can map them better, and when we train they'll be doing it onsite from the ground up start to finish. with the upgrade team they started with the assumption that this would not be necessary because we already use their software. this was incorrect.

basically i think if any organization is using sufficiently dated software it's safe to assume that they have deviated significantly from best practices and even if you're 'just' doing an upgrade your training should start from zero instead of assuming any familiarity whatsoever. if they ask for feedback on the upgrade i will probably tell them this in as diplomatic terms as i can manage.

[creeping-sense-of-oh-fuck]

Here's the thing though. The people who say they saw Jon watching them in their dreams didn't say anything about a monster version of him with glowing eyes or many eyes or floating or whatever.

I love a good monster Jon design but just think THINK about how scary it is that he isn't. You met a fairly normal guy once and you told him the worst thing that ever happened to you. Now that man is there staring blankly while you suffer, over and over. You don't understand why it's happening. There's nothing you can do. The man is still out there, somewhere.

[magicpiano]

Dark AU, Arkham patient! Jazz Fenton.

Sadly, Jazz Fenton is convinced that her brother Danny is still alive, that Phantom didn't kill him, that ghosts are actually sentient and not necessarily evil. Clearly she was brainwashed by Phantom who was pretending to be her brother.

The GIW graciously don't charge her with the crime of violating the anti-ecto act by protecting ghosts as a kindness to her parents who have done so much good work. She is sent to a mental hospital outside of Amity Park because they think she will recover better away from ghosts.

Well Arkham doesn't know what is about to hit it and Jazz is going to do whatever it takes to escape and save her brother.

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCXDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 5)

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Tw: torture scene (GiW agent receiving), general angst, canon-typical violence (DC), nobody is having a good time

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Masterlist/subscription post)

—

It was pretty easy for Danny to forget that Dr. Crane was a rogue at times.

Most of the time he wasn’t comically evil, like what he’d expect of a Gotham rogue. He was helping Danny, even if only because he didn’t want to be taken in by the GiW as well. He was even downright nice most of the time, or at least neutral.

Sure, he had a strange obsession with fear and psychology, but that wasn’t really out of the ordinary for Danny. It didn’t feel like living with a rogue, just like…staying with a distant relative, or something.

He seemed like just an ordinary person.

Today, though, Danny was brought back to reality.

The GiW agent they’d tracked down together writhed on the ground, screaming in pain and terror. Scarecrow was sat a few feet away, setting up a syringe of the antidote he’d made.

After a few more moments, he injected the man with the antidote, watching him like a hawk the entire time.

Suddenly, the man surged forward, lunging at Scarecrow with a feral scream.

Unluckily for him, though, he was still weak from the fear toxin in his system, and from the beatings he’d received prior. Scarecrow easily wrestled him to the ground, settling himself on the broad part of the agent’s back with a vice grip on one of his arms.

“Let’s try again,” he said sharply, all of the warmth Danny had grown used to gone from his voice. “Where is the GiW base of operations?”

The agent took several shuddering breaths before spitting at Scarecrow, defiance and hatred written all over his face.

For just a moment, the room was utterly silent.

“Fine, have it your way.”

Scarecrow began to twist the man’s arm further. It wasn’t long before the agent began to squirm, then writhe, beneath him. Danny’s stomach churned.

“You know,” Scarecrow began, almost conversationally, “there are plenty of jobs that one can get without the use of their legs, especially with the level of education you have. Anything that doesn’t involve hard labor, really.”

The man’s face was beginning to turn red in his struggle not to scream. He took in gasping breaths, the way that his mouth moved almost reminding Danny of a goldfish.

(He felt awful for the comparison, but it was true.)

“However,” Scarecrow continued, “I find you’d be rather hard-pressed to find a job without the use of your arms. Especially in a place like Gotham, where you can always be replaced by someone eager to do your job for even less money. Of course, you could most likely coast off of savings and severance pay for a while, but…”

He leaned closer to the man’s head, his voice lowering.

“Would you be able to live like that? To live with yourself, if you no longer have a purpose?”

He allowed the agent a few seconds of rest before increasing the pressure on his arm. The agent gasped, letting out a strangled hiss. His arm bones were making fascinating noises in response to the strain. Danny felt sick.

“You seem like a rather driven young man. I’m sure your family would hate to see you unmotivated, directionless. Would they resent you, do you think?”

“Fuck you, you—”

The man was cut off by his own scream as Scarecrow finally allowed his arm to break, audibly splintering into thousands of useless shards of bone.

He had the exact pressure memorized. Clearly, he had done this before.

This was wrong. This was wrong.

Shouldn’t Danny step in, do something?

“That won’t heal cleanly. Even with the best medical care in the world, you’ll end up with permanent damage.”

The man below him wheezed and sobbed, choking on air as Scarecrow let go of his arm carelessly, letting it flop back onto the ground.

“Just the sort of thing something like you deserves,” Scarecrow hissed, his voice cold.

“You tortured a child, and you enjoyed it. You laughed with your friends about it. In your notes, one of your friends complained about the screaming,” Scarecrow brought his leg around, grinding his boot into the man’s broken arm. He howled in agony, writhing uncontrollably.

“Was it inconvenient to him, do you think? Too loud? If you were joking about it, clearly you thought so, too. I could fix that as well.”

He drew out another needle, this one once again filled with fear toxin.

“Scarecrow, wait,” Danny choked out.

Scarecrow turned to look at him.

Even his posture was different than usual. He looked… stiff, more like an animal than a man. When he tilted his head at Danny in a silent question, it looked like something in his neck had snapped, his head lolling to the side.

Danny wondered if he was consciously moving like that, or if it was habit at this point.

“You—we don’t have to do this. We can get information some other way, right? You don’t have to…”

Danny looked down at the GiW agent below Scarecrow. He didn’t even have it in him to glare up at Danny like he had before. Instead he laid limply on the ground, tremors rolling through his body uncontrollably.

“We’ve exhausted every other option and you know it,” Scarecrow said, his voice low, “this is the only way we can move forward.”

“Still, I—I don’t,” Danny swallowed, his throat tight, “this isn’t—this isn’t right. Isn’t there some other way to do this? Like—a truth serum, or something?”

“Truth serums are notoriously unreliable. They’re almost as bad as lie detectors. We’re much more likely to get a reliable result from this.”

Danny just stared at the GiW agent and his splintered, ruined arm. He began to weakly wriggle in Scarecrow’s grasp, which was graciously ignored.

He vaguely remembered himself doing the same thing when he was on the operating table; even if he knew there was no chance of escape, he still thrashed and screamed, desperate to get away. The jagged I-shaped incision on his torso felt uncomfortably warm.

What was there left to say?

“The Bat does the same thing at times, you know,” Scarecrow said, “him and the rest of his brood. By using my toxin, I’m actually lessening the amount of permanent damage that I’m doing. Physically.”

“Still, that doesn’t make it right,” Danny said desperately. “Even if—even if everyone in the world did this, it wouldn’t make it right.”

Scarecrow hummed.

They were both silent for a moment.

His next words were gentle, absurdly so when compared to the scene in front of him.

“I would love an alternative. But…”

He shrugged, hand coming to rest on the break in the GiW agent’s arm. Even without applying any pressure, the man stopped squirming immediately.

“There aren’t any other options,” Danny repeated, his voice flat and his body numb.

“Yes,” Scarecrow said. “I’m sorry.”

There was a pause. No one moved a muscle. Eventually Scarecrow spoke again, his voice strangely empty.

“You can stand outside and keep watch, if you’d like. At such a short distance their radars won’t pick us up.”

Danny said nothing, leaving the room silently.

He sat outside for quite a while.

He was grateful that Scarecrow had, with his help, dragged the agent to one of his previous hideouts. It was soundproofed, after all.

He was glad that he didn’t have to hear the rest of what Scarecrow did to the man.

After what felt like an eternity, Dr. Crane left the building, joining him outside. He guided Danny back to his beat up old truck and they drove home in silence.

“Did you at least…do you know where they are, now?” Danny asked as they entered the apartment, his voice small.

“They didn’t share the details of all of their locations with any one person. I know where one of their locations are, but not their main base of operations.”

Danny felt disgusted. With himself, with Dr. Crane, with the GiW.

He was disgusted by the agent, too. Did he just hate the restless dead so much that he would prefer to be tortured than to give them the upper hand? Did he really think he was in the right?

Was there a chance that he was?

Danny felt very, very small, and very stupid. Stupid and weak and cowardly.

“Danny,” Dr. Crane spoke, his voice soft.

“I’m truly sorry that this is happening to you. I really, truly wish that you didn’t have to endure my company. I…”

He fell quiet. Danny wondered if he was just saying this to pacify him, or if he truly meant it. He wondered if it really mattered in the end.

After a few moments of silence, Dr. Crane sighed, looking truly pained.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Danny was quiet.

“I’m going to bed early,” he finally said, turning away and leaving without a second glance.

—