#can I still get an A if I accuse someone of cheating and violently beat them to death during the presentation

[noknowshame]

my fatal flaw is that I become Flint every time I have to do a group project. yes in theory I’m all for equality and shared resources but clearly you people have no idea what you’re doing and cannot be trusted. this is an authoritarian powerpoint now. I am your king

[grapementos]

redamancy

(v.) the act of loving someone in return.

a/n: the final part of the cheating triology.

kirishima and midoriya’s part.

bakugo x gn reader

warnings: cheating, panic attack (kinda), suggestive, crying

pro-hero dynamight didn't have the best rep with the press, if his exhausted pr team was anything to go by. seldom were there headlines about him without outburst or, the media's favorite little play on words, explosive following suit.

then, suddenly, his brash behavior had stopped. it was so abrupt that no one even noticed at first.

once they did, the questions came flooding in. many of them were speculations of anger management classes or something of that nature. in the end, they were all denied until the big question came:

'are you in a relationship?'

it was confirmed, and the crowd went wild. within days there were tabloids of 'pro-hero dynamight's secret lover: who could it be?'

it was innocent at first; just plain curiosity about a public figure.

but then it got deeper. talk shows got psychologists to give professional insight as to how a relationship with someone like dynamight would be.

as expected, it wasn't positive. and soon enough, everyone on the internet was bashing dynamight for being dangerous or violent, specifically towards his lover, whom they knew nothing about.

you'd rub the tension out of his shoulders at the end of the day, reminding him that he was good, no matter what the media had to say. they didn't know him like you did.

your comfort and reassurance usually calmed him down and left him grumbling, "i didn't even care anyways."

so he took the criticism. and he took the bashing, the false speculation—and he kept moving forward.

that is, until someone thought it'd be fun to make a 'top ten pro-heroes who'd cheat' blog post that went absolutely viral. it reached every corner of the internet, even getting mentioned in the news as outraged heroes demanded the website be removed.

the number one spot, the one bakugo had yearned for, was his.

but not in the way he wanted.

being ranked most likely to cheat did a number on his behavior, both in public and private. he was more distant and less explosive, which somehow spurred the press on more.

they concluded that he cleaned up his act because the blog was right and he wanted to create a better image for himself. that wasn't true at all—he was just tired.

so tired, in fact, that he proved the rumors right.

denki was draped over your couch, watching some game show on tv when you found out. the two of you had planned to hang out for a bit and watch a movie at the cinema, but nothing good was showing, so you ultimately decided to head back to your place.

your shared place. with bakugo.

you assumed it was one of his late nights since he wasn't home, so you started cooking dinner, making small talk with denki.

"so you can go swimming, then?" you quirked a brow, poking your head into the living room.

"yeah, just as long as i don't activate my quirk, you know?" denki opened his mouth to explain further, but the front door messily slammed open, beating him to it.

and there he was. bakugo katsuki.

with someone else in his arms, his face nearly being eaten as they pushed back and forth against each other.

everything stopped the moment he made eye contact with you. the kissing stopped, your brain stopped—it even felt like the tv was muted.

even worse was that his eyes held no remorse. just a little surprise, like finding your old charger after buying a new one.

"thought you were hanging out with dunce face," his voice was gruff, low and sultry as his gazed burned into you with... impatience?

"katsuki, what're you.." you mumbled out, brain still trying to process the sight before you, "why're you.."

"didn't think you'd be back already." he shrugged, gaze shifting back to the person he was with. and only then did his brows relax, lips tugging up into a smile. "now, if you'll excuse us.."

he tried to walk past you, but you shoved his chest, "what the hell are you doing?" you nearly screamed, eyes red and burning with tears.

"haven't you heard the rumors, y/n? i'm a cheater. you don't need to be with someone like me."

you saw the flash of hurt in his eyes, but even that couldn't overpower the utter devastation pooling all the way from your chest to your toes. oh, it hurt.

"kami," you whispered desperately once they were gone—in the room that you used to sleep in—head starting to swim, "kami, help me, please."

you didn't even know what you wanted him to help you with. you just wanted everything to stop.

he rushed to your side, finally snapping out of his shocked daze. his arms were around you in an instant, chin on top of your head, "you're okay, y/n, i'm here. it's okay."

you were shaking and sobbing into his shirt, grip tight on his unzipped jacket.

"it hurts. oh god, it hurts. kami, make it stop, please." you shuddered, and everything was suddenly too loud.

he held you tightly, letting you cry for what felt like hours.

and then he got you out of there.

BONUS:

the healing process was long and still incomplete. some days you still felt so empty, only able to complete the bare necessities to get through your day, but denki was by your side when he could be.

you'd since moved out of your shared home with bakugo and into a place of your own, which was a difficult adjustment. but with denki calling you twice a day—literally—you didn't have a chance to be lonely.

most nights he spent at your house, claiming it was because he loved your cooking.

you weren't dumb; denki flirted with you all the time. he was truly unashamed every time he greeted you with a 'hey, hottie', and bid you goodbye with a 'love you, sweetcheeks'.

it made you cringe, but it was denki, so you had to love him.

after a year of being closer than ever, he’d asked you on a date numerous times, receiving a playful 'no, you know i'm not ready for that.'

but, one time was special. one time was heartfelt and so genuine that you shed real tears. denki laid his heart bare for you, every ounce of emotions spilling out of him and onto your shirt.

"i know you're not ready, y/n, but i love you so much. i'll wait for you, i swear it!"

and after all those no's, you finally said yes.

i like to think that bakugo did it for you. obviously this wasn’t the right way to go about it, but he just.. kind of got so tired of being accused of something terrible. he became the monster they swore he was. and you got caught in the crossfire. also i bolded dynamight instead of bakugo because i feel like this focuses on that part of his persona. his hero-self got too wrapped up in the media. also! kirishima was originally gonna be the new lover, but i feel like it’d be too similar to the other bakugo one i wrote.

reblogs are appreciated.

[separatist-apologist]

YES YESSS FINALLY. I am so frustrated when people keep trying to uglifiy character whe they are bad. They are not? Some of them are hot and we can see it? And do you realize how boring is cruel all the time villain? Give me spice. As an anime watcher, try jujutsu kaisen (dont mock me for liking this show plis, i know veteran anime prb dont like thjs show)

They highlight how chill the villain, going to have meeting at the beach instead of gloomy mansion, underground rat tunnel. Better, sometime they have meeting in a restaurant. Boosting the economy. (Though they did kill the worker) i just want to highlight that villain is human too, fae in Beron case. They have live.

As for beron, yes. I like that he comforts his wife. Did he love her? As you say before if I remember them correctly, Beron know of obsession with his wife. Not love. This makes it interesting as obsession and love drew a different line. Can Beron understand this? Of course no. But his frustration of his wife cant give him the same love as she did to helion. Oofff the drama. I live for it. The complex dynamic they have especially when Beron is HL. Hence, I understand why he likes to beat his wife. A motive here, maybe to hide his insecurities? Of knowing he is not perfect as he thought? Like duh, ur wife cheats on you. I would seat in front of the mirror and think about what I lack. House arrest, exile of Lucien, Eris taking care of his mother, no more trip seeing their mother side family. Did you see it now? Did you see how Beron motives abusing them affected them? Their life? Their dream? Think of how different their life is if LoA does not get caught. Fuh, I expect another child from LoA x Helion 😂 and Eris panicking. You go gurl, take what you need.

Like Ben Barnes. He is a unique and memorable villain. I like him as darkling. Still wanna skin him for what he did. Wait, i like how you potrayed LoA too. But nvm that, i rant too much. Feel free to ignore me.

This ask convinced me to finish chapter 3 of You Painted Me Golden. I was saving it for next week, but I'm so soft for the disaster that is that fic. Eris and Arina are so up and down all over the place.

It's canon, according to Helion, that Beron didn't start being physical with his wife until he caught her cheating. I do think it was emotional the entire time, though. And I think he is violent (across the board, because IPV can be more than just bruises on someones face) because he craves control above viewing her as a person with her own autonomy. She is merely an extension of him and he views her in terms of what she can offer him- which includes how she makes him feel. He's got a very rigid idea of what she OUGHT to be, and when she can't live up to that, he lashes out, either physically or emotionally or financially.

I'm trying to mirror him to real life abusers. Kindness intermingled with cruelty- just enough that you're always off balance, confused and unsure. Your reality is warped. She has a moment in chapter 3 where she accuses him of never thinking of how she feels about anything and he hurts her for it. She's stepped outside the role he's prescribed for her and it makes him angry. The violence forces her back into it, to be a person he thinks he can love.

I don't think its love, I do think its obsession and I also think that to write people off as one dimensional caricatures doesn't serve the narrative but ALSO perpetuates that myth that abusers hit just to hit. Like, I'm not saying the people hurt by them need to unpack why they hit. That's inappropriate. but for our story, Beron is scarier if he's real, with actual motivations. He's not Amarantha- murdering just for fun. He's got something to lose, things he's afraid of, a place and people he wants to keep safe.

And he's also a terrible, ugly, evil person. Those things aren't mutually exclusive. There is no redemption for Beron Vanserra, but there is an explanation for why Eris behaves the way he does publicly, and why he's so afraid to kill his father.

[midnight-dreamerness]

Savior

Chapter 2: Finding Strength

(This is NOT my gif. Credit to the creator <3)

series summary: when your protector returns, he finds you broken and abused and helps you climb out of the darkness

chapter summary: you finally have had enough and you find the strength to escape

pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

warning: mentions of death, acts.mentions of abuse, mentions of self harm

word count: 2.1k

-

Quitting the job you love was really hard. After your brother died you got back together with Kade after a short break in the relationship, you moved in with him. You didn’t have the best relationship with your parents, and it only got worse when Danny, your brother, died while overseas.

You walked into the apartment, your head bowed trying to hide the tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. He’s already home, you saw his car in his usual spot in the parking garage when you pulled in. You could also make out the sound of the tv playing in the living room.

You headed towards the bedroom until he called your name, making you turn and slowly make your way into the living room.

“Did you do it?”

There are empty beer bottles everywhere along with a half empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the coffee table. You sighed but nodded nonetheless, playing with the hem of your blouse.

“Good. Start cleaning. This place is a mess.”

And you did what he said, all day. He made you scrub the floor down with a scrubbing brush. You had to clean every inch of the apartment, while picking up the trash he left behind him all day. When night came, you had officially cleaned everything and cooked him dinner. You sat down at the table, ready to eat after not having breakfast or lunch all day.

“What are you doing? You think you deserve to eat? No. You're going to sit there and think about what you did.”

With sad eyes and an ache in your stomach, you didn’t fuss. You didn’t even say a word. You didn’t want him to see you cry so you held it in as much as you could. You hold back sobs, it creates a burning feeling in your chest and throat.

After you got home yesterday, Kade had been enraged. Accused you of cheating, he didn’t even mention you telling Jay about the abuse. It was worse because it was Jay. He knew your background, and how you fell in love with him when you were younger. Last night's memories were fuzzy after that. All you can remember was the agonizing pain and the god awful headache you had after he slammed your head against the kitchen counter. Kade has made you quit your job, you weren’t sure why.

Kade wipes his mouth with a cloth once he’s finished eating. “I try to be nice to you. But you test me. Every single day, you test me.” He stands from his seat at the table, coming closer and closer to you. You look up at him pleading with your eyes.

“Worthless. Pathetic. Get up.”

You do as you're told and stand up. He roughly grabs your arms, dragging you down the hall. You think he’s heading towards the bedroom but he stops at the hallway bathroom. He opens it and tosses me inside.

“This is your new room now. You should get comfortable,” he snarls. You're on the ground now, groaning. He takes the chance and shoves his foot into your chest.

When will it stop! When is enough, enough for him? Why am I not good enough? What did I do that made him so violent?

These things run through your head as he continues his abuse. Pain and suffering, blood and tears are things you have gotten used to.

It’s an hour later when he stops, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he stares down at you in disgust. You look at him weakly and in pain. You're almost positive you need medical attention, but you say nothing.

“Cheating whore,” he spits. With one final look, he’s gone. The sound of the kick in the bathroom door clicking, only making more tears pool in your eyes.

What has my life come to? When did it get this bad? How did I let it get this bad?

The bathroom floor was ice cold, even with a towel laid underneath you, you were still freezing. You know he bumped the temperature down, torturing you even when he wasn’t at home. You twirled the card between your fingers. His name sticking out along with his number.

Deceive Hay Halstead.

You remember fourteen year old you, rushing into your brothers room where he and Jay were playing video games. You remember how excited you were when you told the both of them you got the lead role in your dance group.

“I’m so proud of you,” Jay had exclaimed.

You wondered if he would be proud of you now.

Would he?

There’s so much history between you and Jay, a lot of things your brother never knew about, and now he never will.

It’s been days since you saw him. You can still see his smile and his perfect white teeth as he spoke to you. You can still feel his body against yours from that day he had you against the wall.

You should’ve told him. You're filled with regret. He could’ve helped you get out.

I wouldn’t be in this stupid bathroom if I had agreed to let him help me.

You could’ve called him the day he made you quit your job. You could’ve driven off, anywhere. Somewhere, where Kade couldn’t find you.

Yet, here you are. You have a few - a lot - new bruises that have replaced the old ones. There’s still a harsh pain in your chest and your stomach from not having eaten in days. You know it’s been at least a week.

He comes and goes. Sometimes you can hear giggles pass down the hallway to your shared bedroom. Then…you can hear him pleasing other women in your bed. The ones he would love you on, on good days.

But no…he is with other women while the woman he should be with is withering away down the hall.

You didn’t scream, you should’ve. You know that now. You were scared he would kill you or those girls. You wouldn’t have been able to live with yourself if something happened to them because of you and your stupidity.

So you sucked it up.

It’s been two weeks. Yesterday had to be one of the worst days. You recall the rage burning like fire in his eyes. He was angry, more than usual. Something must’ve happened. Either way, there’s no excuse for what he did.

The cuts along your back sting like hell. You begged him to stop, and it was a mistake. You should’ve let him beat you till it was out of his system for the night. If it’s even possible, he got angrier. He threw you into the bathroom counter, your back crashing into the mirror, causing it to shatter agains you. Your thigh had hit the faucet, creating a huge bruise on the back of it, but nothing hurt worse than the pain in your heart.

“Pathetic slut,” he snapped before walking out, locking the door behind him.

You sit on the floor only a day later, staring at yourself through the glossy flooring. A large shard of glass sat next to you, your eyes wander to it ever so often. It tempts you. Taunts you like a clear voice in your head.

“Do it.” It would say.

Then you would hear the sound of his voice. Familiar, warm, and inviting. Your heart aches. You miss him.

You can see him at the elevator, waiting for it to open while he looks at you.

“You’re strong. Remember that.”

You wonder why you pushed him away. Why you don’t let yourself trust the one man, that still lives, that would never hurt you.

A sob racks through your body as you pick up the large piece of the mirror and throw it across the room. An aggravated scream leaves you as you stand up with trembling legs.

How could I let this happen? Why didn’t I ask for help? The abuse has gone on for three years.

Your throughts were only “why” and “what if’s.”

He’s taken everything from you. Ripped you from your friends, your old life. You didn’t even notice at the time. You just needed someone. You followed him blindly. He told you you only needed him. Nothing - no one else.

I lost myself trying to please him.

You decided you're done letting him win. You're done letting him control your life. Your choices were dying here in this bathroom helplessly, or die trying to get out. You chose the latter.

You searched around the room in a haste, looking for anything to break the doorknob off. Your eyes trained on the top of the toilet. You take it off, arms falling at the weight. You are weak from the two weeks with no food, but you still find it in yourself to raise it over your head and lm it down in the knob.

You weren’t sure the exact time, but Kade would be home soon. So you knew you had to hurry

One hit didn’t seem to do it, so you raise it again and with a grunt, you use all your strength to slam it back down again. Your mouth falls open in surprise when the knob falls to the floor with a loud clanking noise.

It took you a moment, but you dropped the lid and rushed out of the bathroom. You made your way to the home phone, picking it up with shaky hands.

You're hit with a wave of dizziness, but you still dial the number you now know by heart. You were filled with hope when he answered after a couple of rings.

“Halstead.”

“JJ?”

There was a silence on the other end of the phone for a second, but soon he repeats your name.

“I want out. P-Please help me,” you beg, tears streaming down your face as you pathetically spike.

“Address. I need an address.”

The sound of the front door unlocking catches your attention. Your body goes ridged, frozen in place.

Jay repeats your name a couple of times.

“No. No,” you mutter as you begin to back away.

“Hey! What’s going on? I need an address, sweetheart.”

You somehow manage to tell him the address with a, “please hurry,” at the end. You hang up, throwing the phone to the side. You're filled with dread as Kade stumbles into the room, pulling at his tie. You're starting to regret what you just did.

Kade narrows his eyes, ripping his tie from his neck.

“How the hell did you get out?”

He stalks towards you, and although your first instinct is to run, you stay put. You're done taking the abuse.

“I’m done, Kade. We’re done.” You stand your ground, head held high and a new found confidence in your words. He laughs. It’s evil and sickening.

“We’re done? I say when we’re done!” He exclaims, his hand rising and connecting with your face before you had the chance to move. You fall to the floor from the power of the slap. Although you act confident and strong, you're weak. Two weeks without food would be the cause. It didn’t help that you were still in pain from the most recent beating.

You let out a cry as he pulls your hair back with a huff. “When will you learn?” He asked, pulling your head back so you were facing him.

“You look pathetic,” he laughs. You're slapped in the face once more before being dragged towards the kitchen by your throat. You grabbed at him, your instincts kicking in.

“God, your stupid,” he spat, shoving you into the table. Your eyes widen as you feel your skirt, the same one you’ve worn for two weeks now, being pulled around your hips. You felt hopeless now. You only hoped Jay would be here soon.

“At least you're good for something.” You heard him mutter before the sound of his zipper being undone filled your ears. You clamped your legs together and attempted to move, but it was no use. He overpowered you easily. You cried softly as he moved closer and held you down with a deadly grip on your bruised and cut back.

There’s a knock on the door that paused Kade’s actions. He hissed and pulled away, fixing himself.

“Who the hell did you call? Did you call someone?”

The look of fury in his eyes was enough to have you cowering in fear. A scream rips from your throat as he grabs you by your hair again.

“CPD! Open up!” You heard his familiar voice. The same voice you heard as you laid on the bathroom floor.

Kade’s grip on you tightens. “I’m going to kill you, you little bitch.”

~

A/N: Small cliffhanger? Yep. Chapter 3 should be out Tusedsy! If you want added to the Saviors taglist let me know!

@miranada0102 @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @kelelas-life

(Not sure why some of these didn’t work.)

[athenawasamerf]

Feminism in Egypt, Part 2

FGM

FGM has a long, bloody history with African and Arab women. Some people say it originated in Ancient Egypt; others lean more towards it being a Bedouin Arab tradition. I’m not here to discuss the origin story of one of the most horrific human rights infarctions on earth. I’m here to talk about the current feminist struggle against it.

FGM was outlawed in Egypt in June of 2008, and a 2014 survey showed that a whopping 92% of married women and girls between 15 and 49 years old have been subjected to FGM (I will talk more about the inclusion of 15 year olds in official surveys of married women in a post about child brides), and that 72% of these crimes were carried out by doctors. In 2008, a DHS survey of women and girls in the same age range showed that 63% of them were in support of FGM as a practice. Of those 63%, 60% cited husband preference for ‘cleaned’ girls, and 39% cited religious reasons. All of these are easily googleable facts, but these things always sound so clinical when they’re presented like this. Cold, sterile, detached. So, let’s get a little deeper into it, shall we?

Girls in Egypt are mutilated anywhere between birth and marriage, but mostly before the age of 15. These are children. Every single year, we have cases of babies, toddlers, children, young women dying from botched mutilations and infections, especially after the 2016 criminalisation of FGM practitioners. Parents will take their daughters to backwater clinics, or have ‘doula’s who have no medical experience of any kind visit them at home, and cut into the flesh of their young daughters with non-sterile equipment, often without anaesthesia.

I’ve heard and read first-hand accounts of girls who got topical anaesthesia that wore out halfway through. I’ve heard and read first-hand accounts of girls who were dragged, kicking and screaming, and held down by family and neighbours forcefully as their bodies were torn into. Of girls who bled for days, of girls who had to have their legs bound to each other for weeks, of girls who couldn’t stop screaming in pain every time they went to the bathroom, to complete apathy and even disgust and anger from their families, of girls who were snarled at for making noise while their bodies were being torn away on their own beds, of girls who still have constant pain over a decade later, of girls who hate themselves and hate their vulvas, and hate their lives. Of girls who are suicidal, of girls who are terrified of marriage, who have trust issues, who can’t handle the thought of anyone touching them there again, after the first time being so traumatic and painful and horrifying. All of this is done while the family, and even friends and neighbours, celebrate in joy. It’s even tradition in some rural areas to take all the female children of the family to get ‘fixed’ together, dressed in pretty dresses and fancy shoes.

I’ve also heard of women who are asexual due to trauma, whose husbands rape them continuously, who are abused for refusing sex, whose families disown them for being such a disgrace, whose husbands divorce them and leave them for dead, whose husbands marry multiple women besides them, and they are left to fend for themselves, unable to get a divorce and move on, and completely abandoned by the people they trusted the most. They’re told the angels will curse them all night for refusing sex, but what about their trauma? What about their feelings? What about them, as people? Nobody cares.

So, how did we get here? There are 3 main reasons.

The ’’religious’’ folk will cite a (weak) hadith as their proof that FGM is a good, healthy practice. It goes that the prophet saw a woman going to get her daughter cut, and he told her to ‘not cut severely, as that is better for the woman and more preferable to the husband’. Apart from any implications of misogyny in this hadith, it has been disputed multiple times, along with a couple others in support of FGM. You can read more about that here.

Regardless of the truth of FGM having Islamic support, the reality of the matter is that a huge amount of actual, real life Muslim people cite these hadiths as their reasoning to mutilate their daughters, and everyone sees that as completely justified. The truth of the matter is this: Someone put these hadiths into the public conscience knowing full well they will be used to abuse, maim, hurt, kill women for centuries. Whether that someone was prophet Muhammed himself or later scholars, no one can actually ever know.

The second, more indirectly religious and directly misogynistic reason, is to ensure ‘purity’. You see, as I’ve talked about before and as many of you already know, women in Islam and in MENA in general are seen and treated as property. The family’s honour lies between a woman’s thighs. A young girl who speaks to boys her age in the most innocent context possible can be subjected to house arrest, beatings, forced stopping of her education, even death, for daring to put the family’s honour in jeopardy. A girl who has a boyfriend, well...

In a society that places so much value not only on women’s virginity, but also on their complete removal and separation from the male sex at any cost, it’s not very surprising that tips and tricks like using FGM to ‘cull a woman’s sexual desire’ spread like wildfire. Girls are mutilated to make sure they don’t become wh**es. This is said frankly, openly, it’s common knowledge. If you refuse to hurt your child in this way, you will be met with disdain and disgust, and even wails of despair, with shock, with animosity. “Do you want her to become like a prostitute and ruin your family name? Do you want her to walk around uncontrolled? Don’t you know what shame she will bring on you?” These statements are directed at girls as young as... in the womb, if you show your dissent early enough.

And the final reason is the least of them to hide under religious pretences, and the most misogynistic: Because this is how men prefer their wives to be.

You might think when I say preference here, I mean it in the way I mean, “Oh, I personally prefer brunette hair,” but you would be sorely mistaken. By prefer here, I mean demand. I mean a man could force his grown wife, through physical force or through abuse, to mutilate her body for his satisfaction. I mean that men will sneer at un-mutilated women. I mean that men will beat their wives on their wedding night to within an inch of her life for ‘cheating’ them if the wives are not mutilated. I mean men will suspect their wives of adultery and murder them, which carries a reduced sentence of ‘time served during investigation’, just for the simple act of having intact genitals. I mean men will divorce their wives on their wedding night for being unharmed, for being whole. I mean men will act so entitled to women’s bodies that they will always have the assumption that the ‘product’ they are ‘buying’ is cut to taste, and they will become violent and aggressive and murderous if they find out this is not the case.

I personally don’t know whether or not I’ve been mutilated. With such high numbers in Egypt, the likely answer is yes, but I genuinely have no clue. I am not allowed to ask about these things, or I’ll be seen as a loose wh**re. My parents would beat me up and they still wouldn’t allow me the dignity of knowing whether my own body has been altered against my will. I don’t know if I’ll ever find out.

The feminists fighting constantly for tighter regulations, for harsher punishments, for longer sentences; these women are seen as the spawn of the devil. Accusations of loose morals are thrown their way day in and day out. Death threats and rape threats (’that’s what you want anyway isn’t it?’) are hurled at them from every direction. They are silenced. They are ridiculed. But they are prevailing. This year, the Egyptian president has decided to alter the FGM laws to cover loopholes, and possibly to increase enforcement. He has also altered the charge set to doctors who perform FGM which results in death from manslaughter to first or second degree murder.

The problem, however, remains in lack of reporting. Ever since the criminalisation of performing FGM in 2008, and the setting of punishments in 2016 as a minimum of three months’ jail time, to a maximum of 2 years, or a minimum of 1000EGP to a maximum of 5000EGP fines (63.71 to 318.53 USD), and until 2018, and possibly until today, not a single mutilator had been convicted.

Imagine being fined as little as 60 dollars for the permanent mutilation of a little girl’s body. And even that is not happening.

People refuse to report the monsters who do perform this, despite a 2012 gynaecology convention condemning the practice, and calling it an inhumane act, and stating quite forcefully that it is not a medical procedure, and that it is an infringement on the human rights of women and girls, which medicine and medical ethics do not condone. And yet, the public opinion remains the same: this is their business, it is not our place to intervene. It is not our place to get this fine young man thrown in jail, or fined, for performing a ‘cleaning’ procedure, and besides, wouldn’t you rather they had a medical professional perform it, rather than an uneducated woman, or a barber, or a butcher? It is not our place to report this family and tear them apart -  what did they ever do to us that we may hurt them like this?

No one ever asks what little girls have ever done for us to fail them like this.

[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas - Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Dusk Till Dawn

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield,

Brother!Parker Holland x Sister!Rosie Holland

-Warnings: Blood, language, angst, fluff, sadness, possible death

-Words: 2.5K

A/n: I’m sorry its short but, I ended it where I feel like I needed to end it to make people wait.

Chapter 10: Dusk Till Dawn

Words: 2.5K

All that could be felt was immense pain. A feeling of death. Tom’s head was throbbing as warm thick liquid streaked across his forehead. His head collided with the door as the copter tossed and turned.

He awoke to the thick, pungent smell of gasoline and to you, paralyzed next to him. It took a minute for him to gather his bearings. The pilot was missing, either he flew out when you crashed or went for help, who knows. Everything started to come back to him, the moments before you both crashed replaying in his head.

The pilot shouting, “MAYDAY! MAYDAY! DOES ANYONE COPY! This is flight number 514 and we are going down.”

“Tom!” “Y/N!”

And you screaming “TOM? WHAT'S HAPPENING?” “I don’t know.” He said pulling you into his arms.

It all happened so fast. First, alarms started going off within the cabin. Then, the pilot started to loose control. Twisting and turning the wheel. The helicopter did somersaults through the air. Tom could see the look on your face, a look of pure terror as the engine started to give out. You all quickly lost altitude and braced for the impact.

You and Tom’s last words were exchange of “I love you”s.

There was no soul in sight for miles, except you. Only the bright blue sky and the mountains of Montserrat. Tom didn’t know why the copter’s engine gave out 17,000 feet in the air. All he knows as you were stranded, with no sense of getting home.

The windows to helicopter were smashed, glass shards littered the floor of the cabin and the blades were deep into the ground. He was lucky the pilot didn’t fly straight into a mountain. There was no sign of the pilot, maybe he parachuted before you crash landed leaving you and Tom to your deaths. Tom didn’t know what to think. His only focus was making sure you were okay.

If it weren’t for the current predicament and the blood dripping down your face, he would have thought you were only sleeping, you looked so peaceful.

He tried to pry himself out of his seatbelt, eventually ripping it so he could get to you. Urgently checking for your pulse. Pressing two fingers below your jaw and against your neck. He was able to breathe again, once he found the faint beat of your heart.

“Y/N? Can you hear me? Wake up, darling.” Tom yelled, shaking you violently.

“Tom? What happened?” Your eyes opened abruptly, confused by your surroundings. “Our helicopter crashed—.”

“Tom, you’re bleeding.” “Not as bad as you. We have to get you out of here. Here, I’ll carry you.” You only nodded in response as Tom tucked his arms under your knees and pulled you close to his chest.

Laying you down near some rocks as far away from the ticking time bomb, the helicopter. It could blow any second, but it never did. The smoke would create the perfect signal but to no avail.

“Tom, your leg!”

“Like I said, it’s not that bad. Oh my god… your stomach” “My what… oh.” You said as you stared at the gapping puncture wound in your right side.

“Is there a first aid kit?” Tom asked. “I think it probably got lost while we were flying.”

“What happened to the pilot?” You questioned. “I don’t know. I can’t find him.” Just nodding in response. Trying not to cry at the situation. You were stranded with no sign of help any time soon.

“Y/N, I need to stop your bleeding… I have an idea. Where is your carry on bag?”

“I put it under my seat” you called out, as Tom searched for it. Opening its contents in search of fairly useful items.

Tom found a hoodie, make up remover that was 70% alcohol, antibacterial wipes, a handheld mirror, and a bunch of makeshift medical items. Your phones had been thrashed, barely working even though there was no signal. He tore the hoodie up and wrapped the pieces around your torso, almost like a tourniquet and bandage to keep pressure and stop the bleeding.

“Ahh,” you screamed, the pain unbearable as he tied the cloth tightly. “I’m sorry,” Tom apologized profusely.

“It’s okay, I’m okay.”

“Now, I have to take care of you,” you said, wiping the blood off of Tom’s.

“No, you need to rest. The kids need you alive more than they need me.” “Don’t say that. They love you and they need both of us alive and well, so let me take care of your leg.”

“Alright, even after a helicopter crash you are still bossy” Tom said chucking.

“Not trying to pick a fight here… I’m sorry but this is gonna sting,” You explained, about to clean his gash.

“It’s ok… aahhh” Tom hissed at the stinging sensation from during makeup remover on the cut on his leg.

“Bet you loved that. A way to get back at me for whatever I did that made you so mad at me,” Tom jabbed.

“You know what you did.” “Y/N this is not the time or the place for this discussion and no I don’t.”

“Let’s just get home alive and then we can resume our fight.”

“You said I love you,” Tom mumbled.

“What?”

“When we were going down… you said I love you. Did you mean it?” “Of course I meant it, Tom. We’ve been together for almost 17 years. How could I not love you?” You cried as Tom pulled you into his warm embrace. Even with the harsh breeze he was still warm to the touch.

“I love you too, darling. We will get out of this, I promise.” Tom asserted and you nodded, trying not let the tears fall.

What killed Tom was the uncertainty of it all. He had to have hope, something you were lacking. He had to have faith that you both would be rescued. That you would get to hold Parker and Rosie in your arms again.

Tom knew you would be okay and rise out of this like a Phoenix from the ashes. Overtime, Tom grew to believe you were indestructible. Everything that you had survived was a marvel. Surviving being tortured by a rival mob, almost dying in childbirth, and now a helicopter crash. There was no, if. You had to survive this. It was hard to have hope when he saw how fast you were deteriorating.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tom asked. Concerned as he noticed your breaths becoming more and more labored.

“I think so, my chest hurts though. It’s getting harder to breathe.” You said, before breaking into a fit of coughs, coughing into your hand. Panic started to arise as small increments of bloods stained your hand.

“Baby, you have to stay with me. Think about Parker and Rosie,” Tom whispered.

“Y/N, we both need to stay awake,” Tom pleaded. “I know, it’s just getting harder to,” you said, your eyes begging to close.

“I know baby. But, Parker and Rosie are waiting for us to come home. They need you Y/N, just like do,” Tom said, cupping you cheek and moving towards you, so you were side by side. Allowing you to rest you head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry. For the past weeks, I’ve been so lonely in our bed without you. I’m so sorry that I accused you of cheating.”

“I am too, love. Never in a million years would I cheat on you. You have to know that. I’m so lucky to have you. I never slept with or even kissed Jazz, there’s been someone killing my men at the mob —.” He said, kissing your temple. This kiss was one of longing, he just wanted you to be his again.

“Shh, it’s ok. I don’t want the last words I ever hear to be an explanation of your supposed infidelity.” You said, using the last of energy to let out a strained laugh.

“Y/N, baby you’re not dying ok? You can’t die. Just promise me, you’ll stay awake until help comes,” Tom begged. He couldn’t lose you, not after everything that has happened. He needed you and he always will. “You know I don’t like making promises I can’t keep” you whispered, trying like hell to stay awake as a few tears fell.

It felt like hours, the waiting. The sun had set. Tom had a plan to get you both rescued, when a plane or helicopter flew overhead he would use your compact mirror to reflect the sun. Granted it was a brilliant idea when the sun was still out. If you wouldn’t succumb to your wounds by morning the temperature would certainly kill you both. You had lost all color in your face, looking like a ghost.

You weren’t unconscious but you weren’t very talkative either, which scared the life out of Tom.

Each hour Tom’s hope would fade. He never wanted it to end like this. He demanded he be the one who went first. Tom couldn’t imagine what a world without you would look like.

If it had to be this way, killed, both your prime at least he was holding you in his arms. He was close enough to the point where, if it happened, he could hear your breathing stop along with the beating of your heart. Feeling you tiny labored breaths against his neck.

5 hours, Tom had been holding you, praying you survive, praying he survives along with you.

5 hours and he was ready to give up as he saw you drift off slowly towards a deep sleep. “I’ll see you on the other side, darling” he whispered before letting his eyes flutter to a close.

Back home, everyone was secretly panicking inside. Nikki couldn’t imagine losing her eldest son, neither could Harry and Sam losing their brother. Harry had left to be a part of the search and rescue team. As soon as Paddy got word, he was on the first flight out of Monte Carlo. Dom and all the boys were really trying to keep it together for Rosie and Parker’s sake.

They all had left the news on, praying that it would be announced that you and Tom were found, alive and well. Most of the news updates were irrelevant to the Hollands. They had already known, there was a pilot, even though Tom had been taking flying lessons for years and was skillful at it. They also already knew you were on a business trip. Nothing was really news to them anymore.

“I’m going to make some tea. Anybody want a cup?” Nikki asked, needing a distraction from the chaos. “Yes,” replied Rosie. “Please,” responded Parker. “That’d be wonderful darling,” said Dom. “Just what the doctor ordered. Let me help you with that,” said Sam. They were all big fans of a cup of tea. What couldn’t tea fix?

DING DONG

Rang the door bell. Nobody was really up for visitors but, I would be rude to not answer. Hoping it not some nosy reporters trying to get a story from broken family members of you and Tom.

“Rosie could get that, please?” Nikki called from the kitchen.

“Sure Grandma,” Rosie replied somberly. Opening the door to the last person she expected to see but the first person she wanted to see. After her parents, of course.

“I just came to see if you were okay. My dad is doing everything he can through the business side… I know you need your space. This was a mistake, I’ll go.” Henry said, staring at the ground. “Please, stay,” Rosie muttered, teary-eyed from all the crying.

“You mean it?”

“I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Hey, come here. They’ll be okay.” Henry said, wrapping his arms around her. Oh god, how missed comforting her.

“Henry, I’m so scared. What if we can’t find them?”

“Roo, we will find them. You have to have hope.” “I keep thinking we find them, but they’re dead.” “You can’t think like that,” he said, wiping tears from her cheeks.

“I missed you. Thanks for being here, you’re a nice distraction” “I’ll always be here,” he whispered, cut off by Rosie’s lips against his. It didn’t take long for him to kiss back. This was his second chance and he wasn’t going to miss it.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” Rosie said, pulling away.

“No, I’m sorry. I really screwed up. I never should’ve broken up with you. I love you too much, Rosie Louise Holland. Take me back?”

“I’ve always loved you, Henry Maxwell Osterfield. Of course,” reassured Rosie. Capturing his lips once more in a more passionate yet gentle kiss. “Wait, I have something for you,” Henry stopped, pulling out something from his back pocket.

“That is, if you still want it,” he explained, holding you the silver charm necklace adorned with a H and a R. “Duh, div. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Rosie quipped as he clasped the necklace together. “There. Now it’s back in its rightful place,” she said, the biggest smile adorning her face. “Rosie, get in here! There’s an update,” called Parker from the living room.

Rosie pulled Henry through foyer and to the family room for the news. She tensed at the thought of the words “2 DEAD” displaying across the silver screen.

“We’ve just got word that both Tom and Y/N have been found. We are unaware of their condition. They are being airlifted to a hospital in Barcelona. Hopefully we can update you on that once families members have been informed. The pilot is still missing. Please stay with us as we continue to update you on this story,” announced the newscaster. Everyone rejoiced, there were no longer sad tears only happy ones. They were all on the first flight out including Harrison and Henry.

It was miracle, they found you when they did. Harry was part of team in rescuing you and Tom. He refused to sleep until he brought you both back home.

“We found them!” A loud speaker sounded from the chopper flying above. The rescue was eminent, you and Tom were found.

“Get two stretchers over here,” called one of the rescuers.

“Tom? Can you hear me? It’s Harry,” Harry said, trying to wake Tom.

“Harry?” Tom whispered, slightly stirring awake.

“Yes, you’re saved. We got you and we are on our way to the hospital.”

“What about Y/N? She’s lost a lot of blood. Please tell me she’s ok,” Tom pleaded, eyes barely even open.

“They got her in the other chopper. She’s gonna be ok, I promise,” Harry stammered.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Tom whispered before being consumed by darkness.

A/n: I just want to apologize here, I'm sorry. I'm so in love with this chapter and couldn't wait to share it with all of you.

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas Masterlist

Taglist:@thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @dummiesshort @bi-lmg @allthisfortommy

[multifandom-girlie]

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞:𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

Imagine: Henry acts on his rage towards his Klaus. 

Pairings: Klaus x Vampire!Henry, Klaus x Human!Reader, Vampire!Henry x Human!Reader.

Warnings: Violence.

Words: 1156

Edited: Yes

Part 1

A/N: This for Anon and @elijahspersonalwifeyyy ! Enjoy !

The next morning, I got out of bed and walked downstairs past the living room and into the kitchen where I heard noise. I saw my mom passed out on the couch still with a blanket draped over her. I strolled into the kitchen to see him in the kitchen with Nathalia and Ansel, giving them breakfast. 

“Good morning, Henry !”

“Morning Nat.”

“What about me ?”

“and you Ansel.”

They started giggling with eachother at the table, whilst dad was still making breakfast. I opened the fridge, the chill hitting my bare stomach. I grabbed a carton of milk out and went to walk out the kitchen. 

“Do I not get a good morning Henry ?”

“No, you don't. I don't you think you deserve one.”

“Excuse me ?”

“I said I don't think you deserve one. In fact I know you don't. I'm going up to my room, don't come up.”

“Look Henry, I will excuse alot of things that you kids do but backchat is not one of them.”

“Whatever.”

“Do not walk away from me, Henry. I do not want to have to punish you.”

“Right, I'm not a little kid anymore...you can't punish me. Also I can do whatever the hell I want.”

“It doesn't matter how old you are, I will punish you for being disrespectuful.”

“Oh ? What are you gonna do ? Break my nose ? Accuse me of cheating on someone ? Sit there enjoying the image of me in pain ? Like you did last night...with mom.”

“Daddy, what does Henry mean ? Is Mama hurt ?”

“No sweetheart, eat your breakfast okay.”

“Okay daddy.”

My Dad grips me on the back of the neck and drags me out of the kitchen. Before pushing me into his study at the back of the house. Knowing that we were free to talk as loud as we want, as it was sound proof.

“I don't know what you think your playing at Henry but you need to control yourself and stop it now!”

“What you think just because mom forgave you, I will too. You are delirious if you think that, you bastard.”

“I think you forget that I have more power over you, than you think.”

“Oh and what's that ? My mom being a pushover and Nat and Ansel backing you because they don't know the full truth ? If you think that's any sort of power, your wrong.”

“You best stop talking before you say something you regret.”

“Ooooo, again with the threats. I'm starting to wonder how empty they are. You know full well, that you can't do anything to me.”

“Why’s that ?”

“Because despite how you treat us, there is a slither of you that cares for my mom and me and Nat and Ansel.”

“Oh I'm sure, you think that's an advantage to you ?”

“Yeah I do because if you do anything to me, you'll lose them and then you'll have nothing left and you'll be all alone. I guess you'll have Rebekah but she's gonna die within the next couple years because she has the cure running through her. So once again, what are you gonna do ?”

“Nothing. I won't do anything. I apologise for my actions and the distress it may have caused.”

“You ever lay a finger on my mom in a violent way ever again, I promise you that I will kill you. Your lucky Nat and Ansel love you so much, otherwise I would.”

“Really ? Surely you wouldn't kill your dad.”

“No, your right. I wouldn't kill my dad, couldn't even if wanted too since he's already dead. However, my step-dad will do just fine. That is a person I would kill.”

“If your dad were alive, I'm sure he wouldn't be happy with you for saying that.”

“Don’t tell me what my father thinks of me, I already know. I don’t need to hear it form the likes of you. You think that your the only one distraught by Dad's death don't you, your sick.”

“What’d you think he’d do right now, if he heard everything you were saying to his brother ?”

“Shut up.”

“You think he'd be proud of you, for finally sticking up for yourself ? Your weak Henry.”

“Stop talking about my father ! I mean it !”

“Oh do you ?”

“I swear I will punch you, if you don't shut the fuck up.”

“Give it your best shot.”

I lost all self control and punched him square in the nose, breaking it. I then grabbed him by his jacket, pinning him on the floor and punching him repeatedly in the face.

Y/N Pov:

I groaned as I cracked my neck. This is why you don't fall asleep on the couch. I heard giggling in the kitchen, thinking that maybe Klaus was making them breakfast. I walked in and too my surprise only Nathalia and Ansel were in there, albeit eating their breakfast....they seemed completely fine.

“Good morning babies.”

“Morning Mommy !”

They ran to hug me whilst I held their heads to me and kissed both of them.

“Where's Daddy ?”

“I don't know, he stormed out the kitchen with Henry about 10 minutes ago.”

“Huh. Okay thankyou, make sure you eat all your breakfast okay ? Then later we'll go to the park.”

“Yay.”

They went back to eating there breakfast when I walked to the Klaus' study, to see if he was hiding away in there. I opened the door and instantaneously saw Klaus pinned to the floor with Henry on top of him punching him in the face. Klaus managed to roll them so he was now on top and then punched Henry in the face. I ran over grabbing Klaus trying to pull him off but it was no use, he turned around and punched me instead.

So full of rage, he carried on beating Henry like he was nothing. Henry reacted big time when he saw Klaus hit me, he picked Klaus up and threw him to the desk. He aimed his hand straight through his chest and clutched his heart, making me freeze. No one has ever bested Klaus before, with their actual hands. Not even Elijah. So when I saw that Henry was the first, it shocked me. Henry looked him dead on and spoke five words dangerously calm and collected.

“I warned you, you bastard.”

He clutched Klaus' heart and pulled it out before throwing it to the floor and walking out. That was the one and only time. That...Klaus Mikaelson. The evil Hybrid. The bastard son. The King of New Orleans. Was defeated by his own nephew. Albeit, he never genuinely died but no body has even got as close as Henry did. So from that day on Klaus always made sure to give him the respect he deserved for finally being the man who bested him.

CHILDREN

MASTERLIST

[wishfullyeternal]

Reid x Reader- Hurt Pt 6

Reid x Reader- Hurt Pt 6

Warnings- Mentions of violence, gunshots, swearing, PTSD, depression etc. Please exercise caution.

Words- 1544

A/N- finally got around to continuing this part! hopefully y'all like it! as always requests are open and love you lovelies!

In your mind it was all so clear, each memory playing in your head effortlessly, but when it came to words, it was useless. Useless to even try and explain what had happened, it was so simple yet so complicated, and to even speak it aloud would give Noah some kind of power beyond the grave.

"I don't know," You said, rocking back and forth slightly, feeling sweat begin to bead at your forehead, even the fleeting thought of his appearance was enough to make you visibly shake, your fists clenched and breathing erratic.

"You seem nervous, is everything okay?" You nodded and clenched your teeth, struggling to answer the therapists' question.

"It was cold, and I had just gotten off work," You trailed off, struggling to remember the events even though they were seared into your mind.

"Noah was home, in my apartment, looking for something to accuse me of cheating on him, and he found a picture of Spencer, and screamed in my face-"

"Are you in a romantic relationship with Dr.Spencer Reid?" You shook your head violently,

"Oh no, it's not like that, we're just on cases a lot together, so we've become pretty close friends," You laughed nervously, and the therapist pondered on your response, but nodded and wrote down something on her notebook. You made a mental note to try and see what it was.

"Once he was done yelling at me, he grabbed something to try and tie me, to keep me still so he could-" You took in a breath, trying to find a way to move away from the subject, but there really wasn't.

"Rape me." The therapist nodded and scribbled something down,

"I didn't have my gun, so I kicked him and we ended up fighting, and that's how I got the bruise on my face," You gently touched it and winced, but luckily it had begun to heal. The therapist then wrote something else down and spoke.

"After that though, you went to Dr.Reid's house and let the BAU form an investigation trying to find him, correct?" You nodded,

"I stayed with Penelope to help, they wouldn't let me in the field at the time," You nodded to yourself, trying to give yourself some type of confidence to get through the last of the events.

"Noah was already in the building though, and when I was getting coffee from the break room, he found me, and we both pulled our guns in a stalemate," She nodded, wanting you to go on,

"But he got into my head and made me think that it was wrong for me to defend myself, so I ended up putting my gun down and letting him take me from the break room," You shook your head, knowing it was a mistake you made that resulted in his death and maybe, just maybe, if you hadn't surrendered that quickly he would still be here today.

"Why did you let him take you out of the break room," You closed

your eyes and spoke quietly,

"Because maybe if I would have let him do anything he wanted to me, it would all fucking be over," The politeness was gone from your voice, and you desperately wanted to get this fucking interview over with so you could get back onto the field and forget about this.

"What did he say to you?"

"He told me everything he knew about me, my favorite color, favorite music, why I liked it, everything..." You faltered, trying to find the words that would make her understand exactly what you were going through, but there weren't any words that could. Of course your significant other should know these things, but the way he said them with so much venom in his voice completely broke you.

"Reid was walking in at the same time, and pulled his gun, talked to Noah, realized he was going to kill me no matter what, made a judgment call and when he moved, Reid shot him." You quickly finished and began to get up,

"Sit down please, I'm not done yet, I still have to give you my diagnosis." You furrowed your brows, there was nothing wrong with you, why would you need a diagnosis?

"Severe PTSD, and moderate depression, both are caused by the traumatic event, and can be lessened with therapy and meds, I want you to start seeing a therapist once a week and start you on Sertraline, first ten milligrams and then gradually increase from there, if everything goes well, you'll be allowed into the field in about 2 months-"

"2 months?!" You said in disbelief,

"I have to go to therapy and take whatever the fuck that is for two months?" She nodded,

"At your first session the therapist you choose will give you the prescription, so please take it easy and get some rest. I'll check in on you in two months. Know that I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt, usually, I would keep someone out of the field for at least three months."

"Can I at least help in Quantico?" She thought for a second but then nodded. You thanked the lord above that you wouldn't be so cooped up at home, and went back to your desk, not before sneaking a look at the clipboard she was writing on.

Obvious PTSD, amnesia? Depression, co-dependent, prone to relationships that give not receive. Stable enough to keep gun, etc, keep an eye out for new relationships/drastic changes in mood or behavior.

You took offense to the co-dependent phrase but quickly booked it to your desk, eager to get the hell out of there. Hotch stood at your desk, awaiting your arrival.

"What did she say?" You nodded to yourself and let out a breath, composing yourself.

"Out of the field for two months, gotta go see a therapist and take some meds for PTSD, I can still help Penelope though," Hotch sighed,

"I'll see if I can lessen it for you, but from now on help Penelope and go to therapy. I know you don't want to but it's for your own good." You nodded and sat at your desk, shuffling through the immense amount of paperwork you had to do from both the FBI itself and the case before.

"What did they say, I can give a second opinion if you want," Reid looked over your shoulder and to the paperwork you were completing.

"You know you can leave that for later," He continued, you nodded.

"Better now than later. I'm out of the field for two months though, and I gotta go get therapy and meds, I can still help Penelope." Reid smiled,

"You know that's not what I meant, what were you diagnosed with," You sighed,

"PTSD and mild depression, she called me co-dependent..." Reid laughed,

"First two maybe, but only mild, and for the co-dependent part, I'm sure you know the answer." You laughed quietly, it was something you were going to have to work on, but not yet.

"You don't seem super nervous talking about it, why?" He tried to pry and get more information, but in reality, the only thing you could think of was how detached you were from the event, seeing it from the outside rather than the inside.

"I guess I'm just detached, that's all." Reid shook his head,

"That won't do you any good, therapy will help though. Do you want me to drive you home, it'll be better to be in a place you recognize." You nodded, trying to remember how you had left the place, probably messy.

"C'mon then, better get there now so we can clean." You smiled, we. Such a simple gesture, but made you feel loved.

The car ride was less than interesting, and you found yourself aimlessly scrolling through your phone, only looking up when Reid had parked.

"Nervous?" He asked, you nodded and sucked in a breath, letting it out and preparing yourself for what was to come.

You got a flash of memories from that night, and the way you ran to your car, hands still barely tied. The hallway you almost tripped down, and the doors you had to open. Reid put his hand around you, noticing your breathing change.

"It'll be okay, it's just a room, and Noah is gone. He won't hurt you again." You nodded and tried to comfort yourself to no avail. Your heart began to beat faster and faster, like thunder in your head, deafening, you could almost feel the blood coursing through your veins. You put in the key to your apartment and gently opened the door, Reid just behind you.

It was a mess. Just like how it was left. You couldn't help but place a hand on your gun, looking for any type of movement.

"There's no one here, promise," Reid said, trying to calm you down. You let your hand wander to your side, and sat down on the loveseat, where everything went down.

"Do you need anything?" Instead of declining like you usually would, you asked for a glass of water, not wanting to get up and get it yourself. Reid went into the kitchen and ran the water, but before he got to you you heard a deafening.

Crack!

Like the thunder you had heard when Reid pulled the trigger on Noah, in fact, it was identical.

Oh fuck...

Not today, not today, not now...

[moon-stars01]

Riches Or Ruins

S.Coups x Reader

Author:igotstarlight

Summary: Half a year for any relationship is tough, let alone if yours is a secret. A controversey arises between you and Seungcheol, how will your relationship play out?

Pairing:Seungcheol(Svt) x Reader

Gene:Angst,fluff,Little maturity

-Riches Or Ruins-

You paced around your apartment waiting to hear the reassuring jingle of keys unlocking the front door, time seeming to stand still. You’ve been waiting for over an hour for Seungcheol to arrive at your home since you last hung up on him. He kept sending messages, mostly sweet and worried texts, but you could tell he was getting angrier. You went to check the time once again when you heard the doorknob turn. You spun to face an upset Seungcheol, and it took all your power to contain your emotions.

“Why didn’t you answer my messages? I was worried something had happened to you!” He half shouted, realizing this is not the subject the both of you should be discussing at the moment. “Please don’t ignore me if I’m asking where you are. I get nervous, you know this.”

“Sorry, I didn’t think about it,” you answered coldly. You crossed your arms across your chest not knowing where to begin. So you started with food, “There’s dinner on the table. It’s probably cold by now, but I’m sure you know how to use a microwave.”

Seungcheol’s mouth fell open, unused to the tone in your voice. Defeatedly running his fingers through his hair and dropping his bag to the floor, he went towards the kitchen. You stood in the living room, the sounds of dishes clinking together pushing you closer to anger. Knowing that blowing up was just going to make you and the situation worse, you went to your office and started to work on choreography ideas for an upcoming comeback. The time seemed to pass slowly, as it usually did with work, but a glance at the clock told you an hour had passed.

A heavy sigh escaping your chest, you rose to face Seungcheol.

You found him sitting on the couch, face contorted in sadness and frustration, and writing in his journal he kept. Hearing your footsteps he looked up to you, his face filling with hope.

“Y/n, can we talk ab-“

“We’re going to be arguing Seungcheol. Talking is long overdue,” you cut him off, the anger in your voice surprising yourself. You and Seungcheol had been dating for half a year now, and it was going strong until this moment. Your friends reminded you that half a year was the point in relationships where they either broke or prospered. You were fearing for your relationship now. The other guys of Seventeen didn’t seem to think there were any issues or things to make you nervous or worry, but what actions took place at the release party last night told you otherwise.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” you ask, voice cold as ice.

“What? What are you even talking about? Of course I don’t think you’re stupid,” he pleaded, face contorted in confusion. He stood up quickly to get closer to you even though you shied away. “Can you please explain to me what is happening? I’m lost and getting seriously frustrated.”

“How was your release party last night? So much fun you didn’t even want to come home to me?” You knew you sounded clingy and possessive, but you also knew that he went home with someone other than you. He cringed at your accusation, but let you calm down for a minute.

“Y/n, I was a little drunk and the staff wanted me at the dorm with the others. It was a comeback album release party, not out clubbing all over Seoul. I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I didn’t do anything wrong. I went to the party, drank a bit too much, mingled, and went to the dorm with the rest of the guys,” He sighed heavily, trying to contain his emotions. “What did you hear?”

“I heard about Eun Ha, Seungcheol,” you stated. You saw recognition and, what seemed to be regret, flash across his expression. “I know you guys dated before you debuted, but I heard you went back to her hotel with her. I saw photos of you two getting very close. I only know what I heard and what pictures show me, obviously, but the guys haven’t even spoken to me much today. They’re usually raving about the parties or events I don’t go to. Just tell me the truth, Cheol,” your voice cracked in desperation for answers. Your heart felt like it would burst from your chest in anticipation of figuring out where your relationship was going.

He stepped away from you slightly, seeming to register everything you just told him. The only thing you could hear through the silence is the crashing sound of your heart beating in your chest as you waited. After processing what you’ve said, he just looked more frustrated- that gave you hope.

“Well, Eun Ha was at the party last night. She and I did talk for awhile and it was loud, and I’m sure someone snapped a picture of me talking into her ears once or twice. That isn’t a fair accusation, y/n. You know that I have to have that type of close vicinity at those parties; I do it to everyone.,” he stated, totally ignoring to address going back to her hotel room. You tried to focus on what he said rather on what he didn’t say, even if you were anxious.

“Okay, I understand that. That makes sense,” you sighed, feeling some of the weight lift from your heart. Maybe you both would be okay after all. Though you still wanted to know why people honed in on the two to begin with, the photos you saw were sent to you by a caring Seokmin and Seungkwan.

“Well, why weren’t there ever photos taken of us that close and posted online as a rumor of you dating?” you heart sped up again. You did see the article on a popular kpop insider website you followed for other group updates.

“We never acted flirty, babe. Our relationship is literally a secret from everyone except for the other Seventeen members. We were always so conscious about not seeming obvious or giving anyone at the company a hint that we’re an item. So whenever we talked like that at the parties, there was never any flirty body language from either of us. She was definitely flirting with me while we talked, but it was one sided. I swear to you on everything that’s important to me, sweetheart,” he had moved towards you and grabbed your hands while explaining the situation. He was being sincere and honest about that, you saw it in his brown eyes. He kissed you on the forehead and looked back into your eyes. “I promise nothing happened between Eun Ha and I.”

“Did you go back to her room with her?” you asked the blatantly ignored portion of the argument.

“What?” he was taken aback by your question, considering he just told you what happened at the party itself.

“Did you or did you not go to Eun Ha’s room last night after the party?” you choked out nervously, dropping his hands.

“Y/n, she was really drunk… I was worried she wouldn’t make it safely to her room-“

“So, you were in your ex-girlfriends hotel room, both of you drunk, and you want me to believe that nothing happened? Seungcheol, you were in love with her for the longest time, the only reason you broke up is cause of your training and debut. I watched that breakup destroy you, I helped you through that breakup. I can’t believe you think-“ he cut you off angrily.

“I walked her back to her room, she asked me in, I said yes. I gave her water and medicine, told her to go to sleep. We kissed, yes. We kissed a few times. Nothing else happened,” he quickly turned himself in. Your chest felt as if someone had punched the air out of you. You backed away from him, and turned to go to your room.

“You can see yourself out, thank you,” you said quietly. You didn’t want him to see you cry. Didn’t want him to know how badly he ruined all the trust you had built. How much it hurt to know that you worked so hard to hide your relationship from everyone, just to be caught wondering if there were other times this had happened. How many times you were left hanging, and alone, plans ruined because he was either way too busy or too tired. Were those lies too?

“Y/n! Please, can we talk about this. Please… She kissed me!”

“I’m sure she did, and I’m sure as hell you kissed her back too, or did your tongue just happen to fall into her throat?” you spat at him. You were livid now. You spun to face him. “I’m sure she initiated it, she had no idea you were in a relationship. No one could know! But any other kisses after the initial one are on you, Seungcheol! Drunk is not an excuse. Lonely is not an excuse when you fucking had me waiting at home for you! Did you stay with her?” you didn’t care what you sounded like, you wanted answers.

“No, I went to the dorm with the guys. You can call any of them and ask. Call whoever you had babysit me and tell them they aren’t getting paid cause they let me make one fucking mistake in 6 months. I didn’t kiss her back, my tongue was never in her throat. She was really drunk and kept throwing herself at me. I was afraid upsetting her or making her angry would turn her attitude around and make her violent or too upset to even function. There were three quick kisses. She did it once, I said don’t do that. The second I said, ‘Seriously, stop. I’m not interested.’ The third? Well, I said, ‘I’m in a loving relationship right now, and you’re not going to ruin this for me too.’ I left water on the nightstand and left the room and immediately went to Jeonghan. Call him or text him if you want proof,” Seungcheol’s anger faded. He just looked like a sad, beaten-down puppy. “I’ll head out now, I’m sorry I hurt you. That this situation happened. Just know I didn’t cheat on you, please believe that. I don’t give you the attention you deserve to begin with, how could I ever think of doing that to you?” With a final sigh, he grabbed his backpack and left the apartment.

You hoped he didn’t think you were over, that he knew you just needed time to process this all. You needed to call Jeonghan, you needed to calm down.

You grabbed your phone and dialed a reliable friend, Jeonghan. He picked up, thankfully, on the second ring.

“I was expecting a phone call this morning… Hey Y/n,” he said softly.

“Jeonghan, what happened last night? What did Seungcheol go to you about?” you asked quietly, trying not to cry until you knew exactly how to feel.

“Nothing happened, y/n. That’s the weird thing- Seungcheol was just being a nice guy, as he would for anyone, and she thought it was something different. She was really drunk, Y/n. Understand Eun Ha was viciously flirting with Seungcheol, probably for the paparazzi attention, and then when he offered to safely escort her to her room, she must have thought they were going to be something again. You know how he is in a relationship, how he treats his girlfriends, she wanted him back. No one knows about your relationship; Seungcheol was trying to tell her he wasn’t interested, she didn’t care until he told her he was in a relationship. When he came to me after the situation happened, he was in a complete panic,Y/n. He was hyperventilating, near tears, he never wants to hurt you. And remember, he didn’t hurt you, she just didn’t respect him. She’s the issue, not Seungcheol’s loyalty. He didn’t lie to me last night about the incident, I can promise you that,” Jeonghan relayed the information to you. He knew Seungcheol just as well as you did, and if he also could tell Cheol wasn’t lying than you really had nothing to fear.

“Jeonghan, he left my apartment. What if he thinks we’re actually over? What if he won’t let me come back after I blew up at him? He told me he knows he doesn’t always give me what I truly deserve, how he doesn’t always have time to spend with me as a couple rather than a work associate. That sometimes, I’m neglected in that aspect. What if he decides that he doesn’t want this due to that?” You confide in Jeonghan. You really loved that you had the other boys to support you and be there for you. You knew Seokmin and Seungkwan’s intentions with the photos weren’t aggressive or angsty, they were out of worry for you. To warn you what the media was most likely going to post. You had left out that they had defended Seungcheol when they sent the pictures, saying it was Eun Ha’s behavior that was flirty. You had a family here, people you could always rely on no matter what. And you silently thanked whatever heaven’s above for having the in your life.

“Really? You think Cheol automatically thinks it’s over?” Jeonghan asked sarcastically.

“No, but what if it ruins anything?”

“It’s not going to. The second you tell him to come over, he will be there in a second. The second you make up, he will hug you and say how sorry he is. He’s in love with you, Y/n. I know he’s never said it to you before, but we’ve asked him. He’s not walking away that easy, he’s just giving you space. Call him back, he’s probably hanging out in the area waiting to hear from you,” Jeonghan reassured you.

“Thank you Jeonghan, I love you. I’m so happy I have all you boys. I will see you at work tomorrow, be on time this time! Wake up two hours early!” You heard Jeonghan’s rounded laugh through the receiver and then said goodbyes and hung up. You went to your living room’s big window and just stared out of it. It was starting to get cooler; winter was on it’s way. Your heart was happy that maybe your relationship wasn’t doomed, you just had to apologize to Seungcheol. You stole a glance at the kitchen, noting how he had cleaned up everything and put it back where it all belonged, respecting your obsessive-compulsive ways. You dialed his cell phone number, hesitating to press call. Hesitating to find out if this was the end for your relationship.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Seungcheol said softly when he answered.

“Please, come home, Cheol,” your voice broke, tears were threatening to spill from your eyes.

“Open the door, y/n,” he softly instructed. You went to your front door, ear still to your phone as you opened it to a relieved Seungcheol. “Baby,” he whispered softly as you hung up the phone and wrapped your arms around his neck, making you go on your tippy toes.

“I’m so sorry for jumping to conclusions; for yelling. I’m so sorry,” you cried softly. He ran his fingers through your hair, softly consoling you with sweet nothings. He picked you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist and you could hug him more tightly.

“Don’t apologize. I understand what the situation looked like, I don’t blame you for feeling the way you did or for getting upset. I do regret and I’m really fucking sorry for hurting you by saying her and I kissed when it was a one sided thing. I was really angry and upset that you were so upset and not letting me speak. I didn’t anticipate you to assume the worst in me, and it hurt. I tried to get back at you, and it was fucked up. I’m so sorry, I will be better from now on. I will be better for you,” seungkwan confessed. Leaving light kisses on your lips and face as he spoke.

“I’m sorry I assumed the worst, I was hurt and panicked. I love you, Seungcheol. I’ll be better for you, too. I do trust you, I hope you know that. It was just, I was worried that we’ve been together for half a year already, and my friend this is the mark of either a relationship’s end or where it will prosper from. I had that in my head too, and it was a lot of factors. I’m sorry,” You kissed him softly. He returned the kiss with a little more vigor and emphasis.

“As long as you really don’t want to leave me, then I think we’re going to ‘Live long and Prosper’!”

“…Did you just use Star Trek to make up with me?” I asked incredulously.

“Maybe. Did it work?” to answer him, you kissed him roughly.

“Yep, it did. Will you stay with me Cheol?” You smile softly at him in your sincere question. In response to your question, he playfully squeezed your ass since his hands were already there to support your weight.

“Of course I will. You know it is our anniversary tomorrow… Wanna go celebrate early?” He winked at you, kissing you again. You lightly pulled at the hair that was tangled in your fingers.

“For the mature one in this relationship, you sure are dirty,” you smiled, your tone of voice getting flirty. “I guess we can celebrate before we even spend the day together or dinner,” you smile coyly, tugging his shirt to indicate to go to the bedroom.

“Oh, babe, don’t think we aren’t celebrating more than once. There will be a few more celebrations after dinner, too. Maybe even one during?” his voice husky at the suggestion, he still managed to laugh at your shocked expression. He closed your bedroom door behind him and laid you down on the bed, falling on top of you.

“I like multiple celebrations,” you laughed and kissed him.

“I love you,” he kissed you again, deepening it. He stopped his flirty demeanor, sitting up. His face turned serious,” Actually, I’m in love with you. And you need to know that, and know that everything I do, I do for us. For you. I’m not leaving our giving up on us that easy.”

“ I was wondering when you’d say that to me,” you jested lightly. “Choi Seungcheol, I’m in love with you too. I was a mess thinking this might be it for us, but I’m confident in us that we have a long future together,” you kissed him lightly, and started to tease at his mouth. “Now, can I have my first celebration of the night with you?”

He gave you a wicked smile, “You mean the first two celebrations, I’m greedy today.”

You both tumbled into the sheets, bodies becoming one in love.

[ziracona]

And I hate to do this- So on that thread, not that he's as bad, why do you think Michael is redeemable? (and also Frank) Especially by his main victim? :? I hope that isn't as bad or as judgmental as I think it sounds... - Sleepy (its like 5am here :3 living up to my name i see)

So, these I gave a short and a long answer for under cut, but forgot I’m on mobile and can’t do that. I can tag it “long post” but uhhh, sorry about this. Anyway, thats why Frank comes in two chunks. I wrote it expecting to be able to use a read more. :’-] also ya fine. And I hope you’re in bed 🤣 now. Okay so. Here’s my reasons:

For Michael, to start, Halloween is complicated af. You have to know what timeline people are talking about, because there are like 8+ and Michael has been written as a wildly different character by wildly different content creators, and I would not feel the same ways towards them all. They’re not the same character. When I talk about Michael, unless I’m going on about a specific other film, I mean either H20 canon, or DbD canon, which are in line with each other when it comes to characterization. (This also includes Halloween’s 1 & 2 in the H20 line, and Halloween 1 at least in DbD). In those timelines, Michael has like at best 2% agency and choice in his own life and what he becomes. That’s why I am sympathetic. I still root for Laurie to nail his ass to the wall of course, and everything he has done to hurt someone isn’t okay just because his life is unfair & awful & out of his control, but I still find him a very tragic character. He was canonically suffering violent psychosis his parents refused him treatment for, isolated with a monster as his doctor & only human contact for 15 years from age 6 on, overdosed on medications that when OD’d worsen psychosis symptoms and can cause permanent brain damage, and stuck like that until escaping briefly when he turned 21.

In Halloween canon, Michael tells his parents he hears voices telling him to do bad things like hurt people, but they tell him he is imagining stuff, and ignore his attempts to get help. The voices say they will be quiet, which is what he desperately wants, if he kills his sister Judith. So he does, at age six. Scientifically speaking, that’s literally too young to really have a complete grasp on death and mortality itself, let alone complex ethics. He immediately goes to his parents after doing the deed, so they can do whatever they need to do. Instead of getting him help, he is sentenced to 15 years in a 1960s American sanitorium (hell), until he turns 21 and can be tried for murder as an adult (fucking ridiculous and unfair?? Tried as an adult is for like, upper teens who commit heinous murders. How tf you justify trying a six year old literally too young to really understand murder as an adult for murdering someone??). They give him to Dr. Sam Loomis, a fucking horrible person, who says he spends 8 years trying to help Michael (a fkn lie), but canonically by only a few months of meeting the kid is thoroughly convinced he is evil, the devil or a demon in human form, faking his psychosis and side effect symptoms (trauma induced mutism from killing his sister, onset of catatonia/motion loss symptoms, etc, all of which are common with his disorder & trauma), desperate to kill again, and an evil mastermind doing the devil’s work, and says so. Spends four hours every day accusing Michael as a six year old child on, of planning to do horrible things and faking his illness and being a demon and not a human, and Loomis, from age 6 to 21, is this kid’s only human contact. And the staff knew it and how wrong and disturbed Loomis was, but did nothing. So from age 6 to 21—barring one or two visits from his mom & Laurie before his dad beat 4 year old Laurie for saying Michael’s, who he hated after Judith’s death, name—until she trauma blocked out having had a brother or sister at all, and then both parents died in a car crash—his only human contact in complete isolation was an adult man who told him for four hours a day he was an evil lying demon faking his symptoms and plotting murder and not a human and promised he would kill Michael and stop him, from childhood on, and that was it. He was never given an understanding of what was medically wrong with him, or that anything was at all. He was threatened and abused and kept overdosed on drugs for 15 years since early childhood, and his only understanding of the world taught in that absolute isolation, was that he was a demon who wanted to get out and kill again. And the violent psychosis, telling him if he killed both sisters, they would go away and leave him in peace with no more constant noise. With no normal understanding of the world or people or life like he was owed ever given to him, no understanding at all of what you were going through or were aside from the promise drilled into your head you were a monster who wanted to kill every day for 15 years while drugged up? Like, I’m a firm believe people are responsible for their own actions, but in a case as extreme as that, honestly, how else was that ever going to even be able to end? You forget, as a child. Who you used to be. That’s beyond grooming even, it’s being grown in a lab for the sole purpose of someday walking out, taking a large kitchen knife, and killing Laurie Strode. And it’s tragic. It’s unfair. Halloween is a tragedy, not a horror film. It didn’t have to be that way. He wanted help. He asked for help. Loomis is directly and pretty much solely responsible for the lives lost in 1978. You know he won’t even call Michael “him”? The only human he contact he had since age six on called him “it.” And no one stopped any of that. And even then. Even then, even with all that. With the drugs, and the lab grown killer, and all of it? Michael is pretty much the single least sadistic slasher killer there /is/.

Everyone he kills in Halloween? He kills fast. It’s actually kind of boring if you’re expecting a scary slasher, because there’s no chase until Laurie. He just appears, runs you through, and you die. Very fast. And if there is any emotion expressed towards the act of killing or aftermath, it’s not pleasure or hate or happiness, it’s curiosity, because literally everything is something he wasn’t allowed to experience growing up and just has no practical experience with yet. And on top of all that, he also just doesn’t kill people he doesn’t have to. He kills one man for clothes, kills Annie to re-do Judith’s murder since it didn’t work the first time and he needs both sisters for the voices to stop, and he kills Bob and Lynda becuase they stumble onto where he is & are a threat to success. (This + Judith 15 years prior is all the deaths in Halloween period, btw). Michael routinely only kills his target, and anyone who is a threat to success. Literally doesn’t even jump out to kill Bob or attack until Bob opens the door to the closet he was hiding in, and he has been seen. Walks past a security guard and lets him go in H20 becuase he doesn’t see him, steals keys from a mom with her 4 year old kid and doesn’t even hurt them because they don’t see him really either, steals a knife from an old lady making a sandwich who is one foot away but looking the other direction, so he lets her go. Even with all the possible stakes against him, really, Michael is like, the least cruel and most sympathetic and merciful version of that lab grown killer possible, which can only be a testament to the person he was initially/still somehow has managed to keep faint traces of alive inside.

As for Laurie finding him redeemable, answer is threefold I guess, and I’ll start with the most important. 1: in Halloween canon, Laurie cares for Michael and is incredibly sad about what he turned into and wishes he could be different (once she remembers who he is). That’s established canon, not a choice of mine. In Halloween 2, she tries to talk him down before shooting him, and he hesitates when she says his name and lowers his weapon for a moment. In H20, she talks about him a lot & even asks her boyfriend (a psychologist) if he thinks something so traumatic can happen to someone that they can never recover, bc even though she hasn’t seen him in 20 years, he’s still on her heart. She hesitates to kill him once she has him helpless in the finale, and when he reaches out for her hand, she almost cries and starts to reach back because it’s what she has truly wanted for so long. 2: Michael & Laurie are siblings, and that’s a very important relationship to me. Obviously, there’s lines where you cross, it’s fkn over, but it is special, and I’m weak for it. They were both cheated of the good family life they could have had, and I like characters I care for getting recovery and rehabilitation, and I would like them to be able to recover and have whatever fragments of the lives they wanted which are still possible. And then 3: Laurie is his victim, but they’re also both victims of Loomis, and the system, and her parents, and if she does /wish/ for him to be okay and things to be like they were, which was canon before me, so she does, then I think them finding happiness and her relief and new hope in regained family and him redemption and rehabilitation through the quite literally only person he has /ever/ known who treated him well or like even a human at all & is still living, that’s so good. It’s sweet, and it makes sense. I like broken people putting the pieces together and finding ways to be okay. None of the shit that happened to either of them was okay, and Michael sure did fucking do it, but it’s about as “it’s complicated” as literally possible, and Laurie wants him to be her brother again, and Michael deserves a chance to experience personhood enough to want anything like that again too, and I think it’s sweet. To be able to find happiness and peace and a new life in that rubble. It shouldn’t be possible, because Halloween is a tragedy that never gets a happy ending, no matter how many timelines they create or versions they tell, but I wish it could have one. It needs one. At least one, among all the fated tragedies for those two cruelly cursed siblings. They both had their lives stolen. Michael by Loomis, and Laurie by Michael. And I want them to find those stolen lives again. And if they can do it together, that’s a very odd and unusual set of circumstances for that kind of thing, but it’s a very complete way to tell the story. He tried to kill her, but if she asked him to stop and he stopped, if he himself chose to change on his own, when it really, really mattered—decided that it was what he wanted more than all the things he was before, and she decided that was enough, and they could both have a future as family? I like that. It’s a happy ending stolen back.

Long Frank Answer, in case you /have/ read ILM & thus short answer did not answer your question: So. Again, for me, I always talk about Frank as in the version of him I myself write, and I wrote ILM before the archives retcon, and also just ignore them because they’re usually dumb and blatantly contradict well established and longstanding canon. Even then, I usually don’t like Frank though—didn’t like him when I started writing ILM. But Frank has very little established canon character. All there is for sure is he was a foster kid that went through some bad stuff, he met Julie and changed his mind about desperately trying to be homed somewhere other than with Clive bc he liked Julie a lot, he met Susie and Joey, they became a gang chilling in Ormond’s abandoned lodge, then tried to rob a store Joey was fired from, were surprised by a cleaner who grabbed Julie, and Frank impulse stabbed him, freaked, and ordered the others to finish it with him and be in it together. Then before they’d even really finished burying the body, they got snagged. That leaves a whole lot of personality and thoughts and motivations and future choices and person wildly undetermined. Writing, sometimes characters just do their own thing completely out of my control, and I have to adapt. Frank chose not to kill Meg at the end of Tenacity, Adrenaline, & Grit, which surprised me, because he’d been nothing but a dipshit asshole bastard till one minute ago, but I knew it was because he recognized what she’d tried to do at great pain to herself because she wouldn’t bow down and die, and he connected/empathized or sympathized on some level. He also couldn’t go through with killing Quentin immediately after being helped by him in Distortion/Iron Maiden. Neither was like, planned. It’s just who the character was. I was frustrated. I did not want to like or feel sympathy for Frank at all. Then in The Lost, Jeff just fkn hijacked the whole plot and added 20 pages not in the outline because he wanted to be kind to Frank & it’s not like I can stop characters when they do whatever they do. And while writing it, I got to know that the version of Frank Morrison in the world I was writing—which is always the version I refer to/think of him as & write now myself—was not somebody past saving. He’s a piece of shit and he’s done fucked up and inexcusable stuff, and he pays for it. In many ways, Frank gets away with a lot over the course of ILM, but it’s always because characters choose on their own to forgive him, not because they or he doesn’t think it was fucked. And Frank suffers—a lot—for his choices, and has to live through appropriate and large amounts of regret and remorse about stuff he did before the end. He gets the chance to make better choices several times, and mostly he doesn’t. He continues to fuck up. But right near the end, he makes a couple good decisions when it’s down to the wire, sees where his bad choices got him and what he has to live with, and then he does live with it. He almost dies, and then ends up falling on Jeff’s mercy, which he knows he doesn’t deserve and doesn’t expect to get, for a last chance to make it, and because Jeff is an ungodly kind and forgiving soul, he makes it.

Frank isn’t a good person, and he does a lot of stuff that isn’t remotely okay or justified or excused, but he /is/ a kid—the upper end of it, but he’s not a full grown adult. He has every reason to believe nothing of himself or others, a fucked up childhood and life which isn’t his fault, and the Entity got all four Legion kids before they’d even had time to process the one and only violent crime they did (which was unplanned), and it is historically running a PHD in psychological warfare vs everyone. Absolutely none of that excuses or justifies him, but it is an explanation for some of it that is not as bad as say, doing that shit for fun or cruelty or hate or what have you, which makes him a bad person, but one with a lot more humanity left than say, Kenneth. Who is at -100 or something. If he’s still got a lot of humanity left, that means he could be redeemed, and he eventually chooses that path for himself and hits the appropriate “I did something horrible. Fuck. It was really bad. I should not have done it.” “I am really sorry I did this. I feel awful. I’m sorry.” “I cant change it, but I can try to do better and make whatever reparations I can.” “I want to be better, and I am going to try.” necessary stages of actually trying to improve. So, I like him. He did a lot of really awful shit that wasn’t okay, but he was never without sympathetic elements. He does love his friends and his girlfriend, he is a good boyfriend to Julie and selfless towards her and his crew (overall anyway—has even risked death for them very willingly, even the one who was fighting with/kinda hated him), will keep his word in deals and has some semblance of both sympathy and honor, feels guilt, is a kid, did not choose this life but was rather catapulted into it and too weak to climb out once he landed in the mud. All of that together makes him someone I feel sympathy towards and find quite redeemable, so long as he will decide he wants that, which, in ILM, he does. If you just meant Frank in general then idk how to answer because there’s not much established Frank period it’s kinda a shell like all original dead by daylight characters, and I have no thoughts on it by itself because it’s not a whole person, and so I really only think of Frank as ILM verse Frank now.

[caribouwritings]

Sub-Zero

           I was only three when my older brother Eddie died. He had a brain tumor; he died a couple weeks after my birthday and a couple weeks before his.

          He did just as he told our mom when he said, “I stay four.”

          On June 27th, my big brother was gone at age four.

***

           My parents tried to give me a happy life. They gave me privileges that some kids are not as lucky enough to have (such as a vacation almost every year). Despite what the therapist had said when the event happened, I was damaged and it was only a matter of time before it would all show in forms that got glossed over repeatedly.

I didn’t just lose my brother, I lost my best friend, my protector, my guide… I lost my Eddie.

           Although I can now say it and not think much of it, I still cry at the thought I was cheated out of a big brother to teach me the ropes and take my hand when I was scared.

           Senior year of high school was the hardest. I was graduating (on that day fifteen years later) and my brother did not even make it to kindergarten, which he was so excited for because he’d get to ride a bus; His favorite thing in life besides me, our family, Scooby-Doo, and Donald Duck was anything with an engine.

           I outlived my brother who knew what he wanted (it could’ve changed in time, but it would still involve cars and trucks), and I had panicked. I believed people when they told me I would be a great English teacher. I wanted to be a writer, but everyone kept saying I am a teacher at heart. There was just a couple teeny tiny (major) problems:  I hate school (and still do), I am very selective with what I choose to read, and I don’t talk unless I want to or need to.

            Kudos to those who teach, but I’d rather not go back. School for me was where I had my individuality constantly beaten out of me, I was bullied by other students for who I was, have been accused and associated with things I am not, and my mental health got worse.

           However, being non-confrontational, I just nodded my head and let myself be pushed to a major I did not want and watched as I slowly went downhill, and crossed paths with someone a little bit before graduation who is just like me… sort of.

           I was looking for some new games to play that are like Street Fighter II. While watching a Top Ten Best Fighting Games of All Time video on YouTube, the channel (Watchmojo) ranked a video game called Mortal Kombat (2011) at number two, right next to Street Fighter II which placed number one. When I saw the game on clearance at Walmart, I put it in the cart with the plan to take over the unused Xbox 360 in the living room bought by my parents’ for the Kinect feature. My mom did not care anymore, she was just grateful that the expensive gaming system collecting dust under the TV stand was finally being used.

           I played through several kombatants (yes, with a ‘K’, most ‘C’ starting words are replaced with a ‘K’) in the Ladder Fights and Test Your Luck challenges for hours enjoying the blood and gruesome moves.

            I oddly kept finding myself drawn to Sub-Zero, the blue ice assassin (don’t call them ninjas, they find it highly insulting). I didn’t know why though; I couldn’t figure out why I thought the man with ice powers was intriguing. Curious by nature, I did what I do with everything else I found fascinating, I dug for all the information I could find. It didn’t matter how useless and random, I wanted to know everything about the world of Mortal Kombat, and I now know a huge chunk of it.

           Sub-Zero’s real name is Kuai Liang, and he was originally called Tundra. He is the younger brother of Bi-Han, the first Sub-Zero in the series, and Kuai Liang took the name Sub-Zero after his brother’s death to honor him. That was the only similarity I thought we had, but I was so wrong… I was so wrong.

           Mortal Kombat is super violent. The two ice powered brothers are best known for a fatality where they rip the head and spine out of their enemy opponent, both parts still attached together like a twisted party trick (and this is also the main origin to the ERSP rating system in video games). I am not even strong enough to lift a twenty pound puppy without nearly dropping the stubborn Shepard Labrador mix back on the ground with a thump. Plus there’s the other stuff on the surface:  blonde Caucasian female with an olive shade of green eyes, a bubbly persona and pink girly appearance, versus a dark haired Chinese American male with icy blue eyes, a cold persona and super violent history.

           “He is just a video game character, he is not real. You don’t need to care this much for this fictional character.”

           I know that. Kuai Liang is not real, but his story is real to me.

           Kuai Liang went through hell. Everything bad that could have happened, did happen to him. He lost his brother when Scorpion—the wraith of the NetherRealm (and the franchise’s fan favorite character)—killed him in retaliation for killing the whole Shirai Ryu clan, his kind-hearted wife, and innocent baby boy (spoiler alert, it wasn’t Bi-Han at all! Scorpion was tricked into killing an innocent man!). Wanting to avenge his brother’s death, and avoid the Lin Kuei’s new cyber-initiative their Grandmaster was keen on, Kuai Liang and his best friend, Smoke, ran away to find the answers to what happened to Bi-Han. Right when our new Sub-Zero nearly has his revenge and is to kill Scorpion, he is stopped and surrounded by members of his former clan who have been converted from human to cyborg; despite the robotic outsides and still human insides, they are brainwashed to obey like full-fledged robots. He is taken back to the clan and suffers the same fate of being turned into a cyborg and is renamed LK-520, then sent after Smoke who managed to get away. Lucky for both of them, cyber-Sub-Zero is knocked unconscious and Smoke gets help from his new allies to reset Kuai Liang, but although he gets his control back, he is now stuck as a mashup of man and machine. Until (in a rushed scene of the game) he is killed and his soul is sent to the Netherrealm where he is rebuilt from what is left of his remaining bits of human organs and bone inside his robotic shell. Although human again, he is now under the mind control of the sorcerer, Quan Chi (spoiler alert! He’s the real person behind Scorpion’s suffering!), and is now working alongside both the man who framed his brother and the man who murdered his brother, along with several of his new allies that died as well. In the tenth game, he is freed from Quan Chi’s control by being in the right place at the right time (and by also being a fan favorite character too).

           That should be the end of it, but it’s not. This is right before I realized how perfectly Kuai Liang’s life parallels mine. This is before I read the comics.  

           Like I said, I get invested in stories to the point I want to find out everything I can. When I found all three volumes of the comic series on Amazon, I couldn’t resist and I bought all three.

           When UPS came to deliver the package, I brought it straight to my room plopping the brown cardboard box on my bed, and cut the tape open with a pink mechanical pencil. I didn’t care for the other two books I bought (except enough to hide the one I bought for my little sister’s birthday in the closet) because there they were. Volumes one, two, and three were at the bottom of the box under giant green bags of air that are satisfying to stomp on and give unsuspecting siblings heart attacks, but that was unimportant in this moment. I took the three volume books out and spread them on my bed, and dived right into the unknown; into the rebuild of the Shirai Ryu, the second generation of klassic characters, and what happened to those who lived or were brought back like Sub-Zero.

           Sub-Zero, at this point, was my favorite character. In volume two, however, there was a shift in my view of him. In that shift, he became my number one favorite character ever and sealed his place into that spot permanently.

           Kuai Liang had become possessed by a cursed dagger in the previous volume, and it continued into volume two. Scorpion (he is a good guy now… sort of) and his apprentice, Takeda, go after him and get the dangerous dagger back, but the curse makes it hard for Scorpion to reason with Kuai Liang. Scorpion becomes frustrated and the two fight to what they believe to be the death, until Takeda manages to get the dagger away. Kuai Liang exhausts out all the remaining evil within him, and then is left standing there perplexed by why he is there and what is going on. It doesn’t matter to Scorpion though, he still beats the bewildered young Sub-Zero to a bloody pulp and leaves him to die.

           Kuai Liang rethinks his life as he lays their bleeding out, so when Bo’ Rai Cho (ew, trust me on this one, just ew) comes to him to help him get back on his feet, he asks him, “you haven’t figured out what all these events mean? Why I’m here?”

           Kuai Liang’s answer is, “I must commit hara kiri…”

           There. There it is. Right there. That is the line that made me see I am more like Sub-Zero than I thought I was.

           We lost our older brothers, we lost our individuality, we were beaten, we were bullied, we were brainwashed, we took orders, we went down wrong paths, we battled the world, we battled ourselves, and we took so much of a beaten that we laid in our own blood, sweat, and tears thinking “I must commit hara kiri…”

           What is hara kiri? To simplify, it is suicide.

           I remember putting the comic down on my stuff animal infested bed and staring at the lavender colored walls, looking at the big picture. Sub-Zero is a strong warrior with ice powers, and he hit rock bottom. He may be physically stronger than me, but he is just as broken and weak as me on the inside. He put up a shield, hiding behind his anger just like I hid behind my smile.

           I picked up the comic again, and skipped frantically through the pages of volume three just to get to Kuai Liang and find the answers. What did he do and how did he survive to be in the next game?

           It is complicated and complex, but the answer is different based on how you interpret his story. I obviously interpreted it well, because I am here. I am okay.

[afictionaladventure16]

My Surrogate Father (Robert Downey Jr. x Teen!Fem!Reader)

Part 5 of 11

Masterlist

Previously on My Surrogate Father…

Italics = Flashbacks

Warnings: Mentions of abuse

Word Count: 1,200

It was two days until filming began and you grew closer to Robert and his family. You loved how they treated you and missed how it felt having a father around. Robert would include you in things, he even went out to buy you things. “Draw four!? Seriously!?” You exclaimed, “I swear you’re cheating!”

Robert laughed, “how am I cheating?”

“You’re putting your cards under the table! That’s how!”

“There’s no rule on that!”

“It’s common sense!” You yelled, “you place your cards in sight but now where everyone can see what cards you have! But you, you’re putting your cards under the table!” You both knew you were joking around but you were slightly beginning to become frustrated. It reminded you of how you played UNO with your brother. You both had only played once and decided to never play again because somehow you both ended up accusing the other of cheating, that’s how playing board or card games went with you and your brother.

“There’s no rule!” Robert said laughing.

“Well, I’m putting one!” You laughed as you played a card, Robert continued to laugh at your reaction, “you’re cheating and you know it, dad.” You stopped laughing, “I’m sorry, it just slipped out,” you whispered as you covered your mouth. You felt yourself blush from embarrassment.

Robert smiled, he gently placed his cards down on the table and walked over to you, he pulled you into a hug, “don’t apologize,” he whispered. He sat down on the chair next to her, “I think of you as my own, hell Exton and Avri call you their sister, so it’s okay if you call me dad.”

“It isn’t awkward for you?”

“Why should it be?” Robert chuckled, “Do you know what a surrogate father is?” You shook your head, “I learned the term a while back, it’s when a man acts like a father figure to a child when their parent or father is unavailable, kind of like how I have been acting like a father figure to you,” Robert smiled, he thought it was funny how you only came here to connect for the role but he earned himself another daughter along the way.

“A surrogate father… sounds weird, but also meaningful in a way,” You smiled, the term suited Robert pretty well, “so, you’re okay with it?”

“Of course,” he gives you another gentle smile.

“And I’m okay if you call me mom,” you both turned to see Susan standing at the doorway, “sorry, I heard most of that,” she walked over and sat down on the chair that was on the other side of you. “y/n, you have made such a positive impact in this family, I didn’t think our rooms could be brightened even more than they already are, but you just add so much more brightness in our world! I’ve told Robert this a million times,” you looked over at Robert who just gave you a nod, “you’re a part of this family, y/n.”

You felt so overwhelmed, you had an extended family that cared and gave you attention. They wanted what was best for you and at the same time you were saddened that you couldn’t stay forever but you knew they would always be there for you whenever you needed them.

Robert looked around the room as the crew began setting things up for the interview, he glanced at his watch, you were supposed to arrive thirty minutes ago. He kept looking around maybe you were talking to someone, maybe you stopped by the snack table to grab a doughnut. Maybe just maybe your driver got stuck in traffic. There were all these maybes circulating Roberts' brain. Robert spotted your manager and ran after her, “Jessica!” he exclaimed.

Jessica immediately turned around and smiled, “hey, Robert!”

“Where’s y/n?” He sounded panicked, of course, he was, you hadn’t replied to any of messages of phone calls. He’s worried. “She’s not here yet and she hasn’t been answering my calls.”

Jessica gave him a reassuring smile, “there’s nothing to worry abou-”

“Nothing to worry about? Jes-”

“She’s sick, Mr. Downey.”

“First of all, Mr. Downey was my father, please call me Robert, and Second, you spoke to her? How did she sound?”

“Sick, she sounded sick,” Jessica confirmed, “I’ll keep you updated but right now I have to go, I’m not just y/n’s manager you know.”

Robert sighed, he knew there was something to worry about. You wouldn’t just call in sick, that wasn’t you. You’ve done many interviews while having the flu, even after Roberts protest that you should rest, you never listened. Even while filming the movie, you still pushed through after your brother’s death. The directors had asked if you wanted time off and you refused. This just didn’t feel right to Robert. You wouldn’t call in sick.

“I call bullshit,” Robert mumbled to himself, he took out his phone, sending you another message.

“Robert, they’re ready for you!” One of the crew members said. Robert sighed as he looked at the message that was sent, looking at the ‘delivered’ signal, in hopes the three dots would appear, “Robert!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah! I’m coming!” Robert let out a frustrated sigh as he placed his phone back in his pocket. He had to know if you were okay.

You stared at yourself in the mirror with disgust, you never really like how you looked, to begin with but with all the bruises on your body, you found yourself to be even more disgusting. You felt tears brim your eyes, you hated thinking this way about yourself. You gently traced the hand marks on your neck, you wondered what drove your mother to hate you so much, was it really because you rejected her?

What did she expect after leaving you at such a young age, a welcoming wagon? You traced the bruises on the back of your arms, there was no way you could hide all the marks on your skin.

With your brothers birthday drawing closer, you know the drinking was only going to get heavier, and you had to do something before your mother's beatings become more frequent or more violent. Your phone vibrated on the bathroom counter, causing it to move slightly. You picked it up, noticing a message from Robert. You tapped on the screen.

I hope you’re okay, y/n/n. <3

You sighed to yourself, you wanted to reach out so badly, but you couldn’t put this drama onto Roberts lap. You walk out of the bathroom and into your room, deciding on a nap because right now sleep was your only escape from this nightmare.

Permanent Taglist:  @unapologeticallymimi  @glitterquadricorn @lady-of-lies @cassmoreiraxo

My Surrogate Father Taglist: @blancastans  @fireproof-heaven @iamthemaskhewears  @batfam16 @havlindzk @captainmarvel16 @whereyoustand  @lizlil @sunnyshoes @a-fan-fighting-for-equality @agirlruinedbybands  @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @letsstarsfalling  @aberrant-annie  @weappreciatepower @onceitoowasinnocent  @amaya-norabella-16 @chonisberonica @majorlyextra   @livi-lu   @energizerbunnay @gabiatthedisco @xdsockmonkey @snakeswiftaylor  @harryigprompt @mlovesstories  @just4muggles @joe-mazzello-is-my-dad @nerdyphantomlady  @iloveyouthreethousand-o6 @supernaturallover2002 @chickencrimpy @angeljeonj @falling-stars-never-cry

[inexorablebloodmoon]

I don’t know why Cass is throwing shade out right now? But apparently someone accused her of copying your oc. And it seriously looks 100% copied. It’s on her main blog. I hate seeing those shit drama loving people stealing your guys stuff.

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Oh chile. Go ahead and get comfy, get your teapots and teacups out, because this is going to be a wild story and some really hot tea ☕️

I knew about the OC long before people told me, since I was the one who caught onto it since I still somehow had been following her on my main blog titanialynida. She posted a collage of pictures of her commissions on her main blog and I believe shared it on her Diabolik OC blog as well. Looks similar to my D&D version of Titania and she knew she’s basically a sorceress and archer. But aside copied work and an unoriginal OC, Cass has always been trouble since she sold the fake Azusa plush to a friend of mine and to someone named bitter-doll.

If people really don’t believe me on this, her own friend Summer sent her a screenshot of her “accidentally” talking shit on her which I have proof of. Cass seemed so stupid as to believe in her that she was still a friend and didn’t “mean to say or send that” and Summer is a known two faced liar and user. I also want to mention their friend Rylin was the one who gave our friend her refund which she should’ve never done, but Cass is irresponsible and lives with a man who hardly takes care of her which I’ll get to in just a moment. My second problem with Cass, is she’s a liar. A big liar in fact. She claimed her father was actually native, but when I and others went to see for myself, he doesn’t live on a reservation and in one photo of Cass, he has a Confederate flag in the background so she can fuck RIGHT OFF trying to claim being POC and putting herself in topics she had no space in. Even claiming her fiancé Joe is because he isn’t fully White because he’s a “dark skinned” Italian man. Which by the way, Italians are White People, just the rest of Europeans. My mother’s parents were born in Portugal and lived in Europe till they decided to move to Canada. Both of my parents are immigrant and come from immigrant families. My father being Chicano so that is disrespectful for me that she has no place in our conversations about problems that minorities face. And White people don’t get to define what is and isn’t racist. Because that isn’t how racism works within a society built off the backs of Black and Brown people world wide.

Another thing to know about Cass, is she’s extremely two faced. She lies about being supportive and is always trying to find an excuse. She lied to my best friend Mika about traiding her Dazai merch for Azusa merch Mika already had. Mika also, never received a tracking number for her stuff and was lied and cheated to similar to the Azusa Plush. She excuse was she had problems with her bank and PayPal as she usually does with people she has interacted with. Which I also have proof of since my best friend Mika has sent merch to quiet a few Diabolik fans within the fandom.

Lastly, her “fiancé”, or as I like to call him, a predator and abuser. His name is Joe and he’s a fucked up person. Think of misogyny on cocaine. Not only does he throw things in their trailer home and apparently she takes after this, but she herself said he would get extremely drunk and violent in front of her who was 19 and basically relying on him as a place to stay. I have no doubts he’s done this after their daughter was born. I know this all too well and what this man was after, since I lived with a man similar and no healthy man in his mid 30’s is going to take care of a 19 year old girl and think that’s a healthy relationship. That’s abuse waiting to happen and she was young and vulnerable. Their whole relationship is gross and many of Destinee’s friends advised her to leave and get away from him for a long time. He even called me racial slurs like “wetback” and “beaner” when talking about immigration and that he’s beat me up and got to the point of sexually assaulting me in his comments. Called me a cunt and was extremely abusive saying he would hit me. When that happened, I told Cass she needs to leave him and that was completely uncalled for. She doesn’t care about my rights or my safety, and he’s also a known Islamaphobic White man. So she’s just as guilty by proxy and has never once formally apologized.

Go ahead and talk shit on me, Cass. Try. At the very least, when I was in an abusive relationship I reached out to the friends I had and contacted the police when I was able to. I went to get help so I can throw a predator in jail and before he was gonna get arrested, he killed himself. You let that innocent little girl be around somebody who is physically and verbally abusive. All you care about is a fantasy of Joe and what he “was”, not actually caring about the well being and safety of your daughter. Having an abusive father around is no benefit to her life. And Summer, I’m not a pos mom thank you. I work 40 hours a week while my daughter goes to public kindergarten full-time and I buy her what she wants and needs. She’s in Girl Scouts and Soccer. What’s Cass doin for her baby and what’s Misa even doing for her disabled son? No sports, no after-school program or time with peers. Both are lazy and selfish parents who don’t care about their children’s welfare.

If people do not believe my words, they may feel free to that and I can’t change people’s opinions, but feel free to DM me for proof because I have it, and eventually today I’ll post it in imgur files.

Try me bitch

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[mattskeebah]

PLEASE READ

I know how much y’all hate “your fave is problematic” posts...but it’s necessary.

Summary: Matt Skiba, singer of the band Alkaline Trio and member of Blink-182, has nazi tattoos, is a fan of nazi bands, made tasteless nazi related paintings, is best friends with Boyd Rice, and in fact, owns nazi insignia. Matt claims to be a feminist but likes countless scantily clad pics of young models and sex workers and follows actual porn actresses on IG. Also, he never distanced himself from Asia Argento and still sells t-shirts with her face on them in his webstore. Matt supports the police and the military and he has a weird gun fetish. He attacked fans who criticized his behavior and his problematic associations.

---

WHY I STOPPED BEING A FAN OF MATT SKIBA

He supports the police as an instutition, specifically Chicago PD. He made a post on Instagram in favor of CPD which ofc received backlash from fans but he ignored the negative comments and brushed it off as “there are bad people in every profession” and then he deleted the post. Thanks to a Tumblr user who screencapped it: [x] please notice the tiny blue (lives matters) heart. Also, here are some “cute” pics of him wearing police-related stuff [x] [x] and check out this post of him “repping” new CPD merch on his car [x] (he disabled the comments).

He supports the military, which might be because his parents served in the Vietnam war, but that doesn’t make it less shitty. Examples for his military-support can be found all over his Instagram. [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] and so on... and in this post he’s delighted that a soldier in Afghanistan is wearing an Alkaline Trio patch. [x]

He’s close friends with Asia Argento / or had possible romantic relationship with her and he still sells t-shirts with her face on them in his merch shop. For those of you who don’t know her, she was one of the leaders of the #metoo movement but then it was revealed that she herself had sex with an intoxicated 17-year-old (!) and her bf Anthony Bourdain gave the boy money so he would keep his mouth shut about the incident, ((later Bourdain committed suicide))

Story of a fan who gave Matt a letter criticizing him for being friends with Argento, and the same night he posted a picture of her on IG (I think it was this post)… which seems like a subtle F*CK YOU at the person who gave him the letter. (he can’t take criticism, can he?)

His IG activity is .. something else. Matt’s major interests are motorbikes, cars, and young, attractive, half-naked models and strippers. One of his recent likes (nudity and bruises cw) [x] [x] [x] [x]….that one is an actual porn actress he follows and thirsts over: (more nudity cw) [x] he commented ‘cool butt momma. miss you xoxo’ [x] [x] (liked)…and my “personal fave” a picture with a sex worker [x] he deleted the picture ofc

HE LOVES GUNS (+said that he would use them) he has quite a big gun collection: SIG SAUERs, a Morning Star, many knifes, a shotgun, a Desert Eagle gun, a samurai sword, a faux snakeskin baton, and more stuff I can’t remember, he posted his collection on November 5th 2018 on IG, but unfortunately I didn’t take a screenshot!! but he posted them individually on IG. [x] [x] [x] [x] etc. and a recently deleted pic at the shooting range [x] ……also this pic exists.. edgelord (tw gun to the head).

In the comments of the same post (I swear on my life it’s real, you have to trust me) a user commented that he’s a Trump supporter but he would still defend Matt, even if he’s “politically left”. Matt’s answer: “I would defend you too, my man!”. o k a y. then Matt said he identifies as “quite a bit left” o K AY. MATT. Just so btw. the user also had a name including “88″ ( is a code phrase commonly used in fascist circles for “Heil Hitler”) or he just meant the year 88. but I saw some racist “memes” on his IG too.

Matt has a weird obsession with WW2. He literally watched a holocaust docu on HIS FUCKING BDAY (or at least he posted about it) and he said he collects WW2 books. Theoretically, nothing wrong with being interested in history, but in the context of everything… bad vibes……….

He really loves Nordic/Scandinavian-related stuff, like jewelry of the Hammer of Thor etc and he even uses MS runes for his merch. Runes are popular among occultists but they also have a really problematic history concerning WW2 and the nazis. Considering one of his most favorite bands Death in June mentions runes in their lyrics and they are a REALLY REALLY questionable band flirting with nazi imagery and being openly affiliated with fascist and far-right satanists, I have every right to question Matt’s intentions.

He literally has a crutch cross tattoo on his chest (which was used as the symbol of Austro-Fascism, and is also the logo of the neo folk - nazi band Blood Axis) PHOTO 1, PHOTO 2 and an EDELWEISS tattoo [x], which is the national flower of Austria and is considered a magical flower in occult circles. Nothing wrong with having a flower tattoo but it was used a lot in the context of nationalsocialism and “traditional values”. To add, it was also used as a symbol of the 1st Mountain division “Gebirgsjäger” in WW2 (Hitler’s elite formation of the Wehrmacht who were involved in large scale war crimes). 

Matt OWNS NAZI INSIGNIA. He is wearing a WW2 Edelweiss patch in this pic [x] and here [x] combined with a crutch cross patch (Alk3 used an iron cross backdrop at their concerts 2014ish and a crutch cross symbol on their guitar picks btw.)

He owns several Death In June patches, their merch [x] [x] [x] [x] etc. and other patches and buttons featuring nazi-related symbols. [DIJ WIKI]. He is also friends with their singer. Matt’s a huge DIJ fan, attended their concerts [x] and Douglas P. reads the intro of the Alkaline Trio song “I Found Away”. DIJ uses fascist symbols and “aesthetics” for the band, including an SS Totenkopf logo.

Matt painted the same logo and exhibited it at an art show [x]

HE LITERALLY DID PAINTINGS REFERENCING DOLLFUSS AND MUSSOLINI and another piece of “art” called “surf nazis” [x] what the actual f   u    c  k .. and here he is with his painting of Mickey Mouse as Hitler [x]

HE IS BEST FRIENDS with Boyd Rice, (here’s a picture of them holding Wolfsangels, a nazi symbol) they are REALLY CLOSE. According to Rice’s IG they meet every week and hang out and Rice considers Matt “family”… the entire Boyd Rice shit can be read in this post (important please read). Matt even attacked fans that were calling him out and called them stupid.

The first liked video on his Youtube channel is a video about neo-nazi biker gangs in Germany....... [x]

He is friends with Kat von D, she did a few of his tattoos and she appeared in the Alk3 video “Help Me”.

He collabed with Jeffree Star on a violent song [x]

He was at an art show of a friend who used nazi symbols (!)

posts like these [x] [x]

In this interview [x] he’s pretty much romanticizing that people got stabbed back then at concerts and that there was a big skinhead scene (he wasn’t “stoked” about the violence happening BUT “the energy surrounding” was “very ATTRACTIVE” to him. Make of that what you will.)

When he was a sophomore in HS (and on acid) he beat up a classmate who threw a U.S. flag on the floor. [x]

Matt made a racist remark a few years ago about Chinese people [x] and according to him //or he’s joking// he has a tattoo on his dick that says “welcome to Jamaica” which can be interpreted as racist.

Many of the movies he praises blatantly depict violence against women, like Blue Velvet, Funny Games, A Clockwork Orange (it has almost 3 rape scenes in the first 15 minutes), lyrics like “Radio” can be seen as misogynist, he literally wishes that his ex-GF (/or someone’s ex-gf) should take a bath with a radio and get electrocuted.

A person on IG commented that his ex-girlfriend accused him of domestic violence, I have no proof for that but he deleted the comments ofc and then a few days later he donated money to a women’s shelter in LA… which seems like he’s trying to avoid a shitstorm…

He compared L.A. women to zoo animals in this interview [x].

He cheated on his ex-gf(s) which I think should go on this list too.

Matt used to be a member of the Church of Satan, just leaving this here. you can argue if it’s good or bad but there seems to be a connection between satanists and neo-nazis .. sadly.

He listed the song* “Los Angeles” by X among his faves in this interview [x] (*edit: Someone has reached out to me and explained that the song was not racist, antisemitic or anything but from the *perspective* of a racist. However, we don't know Matt's reason for liking the song and considering his WW2 fetish, it's sketchy that he would consider the song as one of his favorites. Maybe he likes it because the song openly says things out loud under the veil of "sarcasm" that would be criticized under different circumstances. See also: [Oscar Wild was right.] Matt still listened to the band in 2014 and was at a concert of them [x], even months after their singer spew right-wing conspiracy theories concerning (school) shootings.

THIS FUCKING PICTURE OF HIM WITH A CHARLES MANSON DOLL AND A SW*STIKA. He still had the doll in other pictures [x] [x].

This picture I found on a fansite. It’s supposed to be Matt as a child.. where does that even come from and why is he wearing a military hat with something that vaguely looks like an eagle (?)

I can’t be the only one who noticed that but Matt had a vaguely ~nazi haircut thoughout the years and even some sort of nazi / white power aesthetic~ going on, even fans recognized it as such [x] [x] [x] and in the context of him hanging out with Boyd Rice like this in this picture [x] it’s safe to say he was EXACTLY GOING FOR THAT LOOK.

When he was in Germany during the Blink-182 tour 2017 he proudly posed at a famous Third Reich location in the Alps. Yk. nothing wrong with visiting historical locations but in the context of everything mentioned in this post. IT LOOKS REALLY BAD.

…probably more.. this man is a walking disaster

- - -

In this post I listed a lot, there are probably some things you would consider “minor” because they happened years ago but I thought I’d mention them anyway. Also, I’m not saying he has those beliefs but he definitely doesn’t distance himself from nazi(-sympathizing) scum like Boyd Rice and keeps being BFFs with him. And what’s up with the problematic tattoos and WWII insignia? I can’t be the only one who thinks this is not okay!!!

Thanks for reading.

[harley-quinnn]

Headlines

Jared Leto x Reader

Prompt: Can we get a reader x Jared where maybe Jared cheats on the reader on tour but then they fix it? I know it’s so mean but I’m weird 😬

{A/N} Happy Valentine’s Day puddin’s, I hope ya had a great day! This is a short little one shot for the cheating request to give ya something in place of Home squared while I work on it. I know it’s the day of love, but this story is a bit of a roller coaster ride emotionally, so please read at your own risk!

Warnings: Self doubt, adultery, slight violence (meaning a glass was thrown in the opposite direction of a person), depression. But also fluff at the end, somehow. 

ALSO- Regardless of any previous rumors in real life, I do not see Jared as a cheater, this is purely fiction for the request I received! He’s a good guy. Right, Jared? Okay, cool, good.

There we were, “Jared Leto and {Y/F/N}.” We were in headlines for days about a “new blossoming romance.” We graced every front cover of every tabloid, every episode of TMZ and Dish Nation, Entertainment Tonight and Access Hollywood. We were Hollywood’s latest power couple, despite our best efforts to keep it a secret. Eventually, it got to the point where we just said “fuck it,” and did what we wanted. He loved me, and I loved him. What did it matter who knew?

But it wasn’t so easy to keep up with each other. It wasn’t easy at all. Scheduling conflicts between appearances, filming and recording kept us apart more than together, and after a few months or so, my cynical nature always had me second guessing his true feelings for me. 

On occasion, we’d fight, and we’d fight ugly. I always thought we fought hard because we loved harder, but as fame and the media broke me down, and hit him with false accusations and reprimands for things from our age difference to calling us a publicity relationship, I began to lose myself and what I was fighting for. After long, theraputic chats, he always brought me back down to earth, reminded me of who I was and who we were. But our previous arguement had been over the phone, and neither of us seemed to have the level head to call the other back to apologize or talk things through.

And while this day was the day he finally returned home from months worth of tour, I couldn’t be excited; I couldn’t be happy. In fact, I couldn’t really feel anything at all other than heartache.

I sat on the couch, my heart feeling as though it was shattering like glass inside of the confines of my chest. A shaky hand poured another glass-full of vodka into a crystal glass that sat on the coffee table in front of me, beside that, an email of an article open on my laptop that had been sent to me by my publicist just a couple hours earlier.

“Jared Leto cheats on girlfriend with mystery brunette on tour.”

Awesome.

There were no feelings in my entirety, yet every feeling all at once. My mascara had long been running, and my publicist had already heard an earful of screaming from me, though it wasn’t her fault. She was looking out for me, not wanting me to be caught off gaurd hearing it elsewhere. Hell, I hardly even knew if it was his fault. But I hadn’t the mental capacity to make decisions that weren’t brash anymore as I downed the glass I’d just poured.

The vodka burned in my throat like acid as I held the glass tightly in my hand. He was slated to be home any minute now, and while I’d run through speeches in my head, the notion of trying to find out what actually happened, and other things to say, I knew the moment I set eyes on him again I’d lose it all. In what way this time, I wasn’t sure. 

I’d dealt with the mean headlines, I’d faced the intense lines of questioning at every interview. But I’d never seen this headline before, and it was eating me alive. We’d fought over petty things, and some important things, but neither of us had ever dealt with cheating accusations from one another, despite the way the press loved to talk.

Moments later, I heard the doorknob click and the familiar sounds of bags and rustling that came when he returned. I heard Shannon laughing with him as they carelessly entered the living room, not yet noticing my shell shocked state in the opposite end of the large room. I was already shitfaced, and I felt the tears silently pour down my cheeks once more as my eyes caught sight of him. It felt as though I were looking at him from within a hollow shell, the caving sensation of my heart breaking in my chest in the forefront of my senses.

“Babe!” Jared called out when he saw me, a grin on his features.

“Hey, {Y/N},” Shannon grinned.

I could only inhale and turn to face them, gripping the glass in my hand even harder as I tried with all my might to keep quiet; to keep from overreacting.

“{Y/N},” he said next, his tone turning into nothing but extreme concern as he saw the state I was in.

Jared rushed over to me, and as he grew closer, I pushed the laptop open further and turned it to face him without another word. His brow furrowed as he looked down at it, taking a bit to read the headline and study the photo of him beneath it. He remained quiet, his expression growing tense before he turned to Shannon, who was just as confused in the entryway.

“Can we have a minute?” Was all he said, and Shannon simply nodded and walked his things towards the back of the house.

“How could you, Jared?” I heard myself slur from what felt like a million miles away. “I trusted you..”

There was pain written all over his features, and while his silence spoke volumes, I wasn’t sure what I was willing to believe.

“Baby..”

“Don’t you dare baby me. You.. I told you I’d be your ride or die no matter what. I know tour life. I know how it is. I didn’t expect this not to happen, I just.. I didn’t think I’d ever know, you know?”

My voice cracked again, trailing off of the end. It was true, I was willing to put up with anything for him. My heart beat solely for him and him alone. I knew he loved me, everyone knew he loved me- and everyone knew I’d die for him. Still, I couldn’t help but feel betrayed, and as though I just weren’t enough for him anymore.

To millions, I was a shining beacon of beauty and sex. Everyone wanted to be me, and those who didn’t wanted to have me. The same was said about Jared, of course. I did what I could when we were together. I gave him every ounce of affection and attention I possibly could. I cared for him like I’d never cared for anyone before.

I just couldn’t wrap my head around why.

I stood from the couch, glass in hand. Swaying a bit, I stepped closer to him. It was far too late to keep my tears hidden in my waterline.

“Is she prettier than me? Was she.. Was she sweeter than me?” I drunkenly inquired, hot tears running down my cheeks as I turned to face away from him. “Because I don’t know what else it could be..”

Jared stayed quiet, his expression tense as he watched the woman he loved fall to a million broken pieces before him. Trying to find the words to say, he opened his mouth to speak.

“It was that fucking fight we had,” he started, cool and collected, and I recognized the tone to be the one he took when he was trying to keep me level headed. “About the fact that you have to start your tour the same day I have to start filming, even though we planned for you to come with me.”

It was like something snapped in me instead. I chucked the glass in my hand toward the wall, turning to face him again as the shards of sparkling glass scattered across the floor. I was never a violent person, but my heart had no idea how to react, and my mind was no help, either. He kept his demeanor calm, and only pushed me further.

“Is that supposed to make it okay?” I spat, angry and deeply hurt.

I had never felt so strongly for anyone in my life, and this, coupled with the stress I’d been enduring in other ways, finally made me unravel.

“Please just tell me what I did,” I begged, feeling the the life slip away from my body as I weakly shut my eyes. “Please..”

Before I could open them again, he took my hands in his, squeezing them firmly. It caught me slightly off guard when he wrapped his arms around me. His embrace was possessive, as though he were keeping a cracking statue together; as though he were protecting me from someone else, even though the harm had come from him.

“I’m so sorry, {Y/N}.. You have no idea how awful I felt. I wanted to call you as soon as it happened, but I didn’t want to stress you out even more. We’d just had that huge ordeal and I felt.. Well.. Fuck, I felt vulnerable and pissed off. And she was just.. there. It’s no excuse, there’s none..”

“What, does she fuck better than me?” I mewled, sobbing against his chest.

“God, what? No,” he grimaced. “I didn’t sleep with her, I just kissed her.”

His toned arms squeezed my frame even harder. Inadequate was hardly the word to describe how I felt. The ache that sat in my chest seemed to radiate from deep within my ribs to the flesh that sat just under my necklace. I tried to collect my drunken thoughts; tried to make some kind of sense of what I was hearing. Then, it hit me. I looked up at him through my makeup stained face, sniveling quietly as our eyes rested on each others.

“Wait.. You didn’t sleep with her?”

“No, baby. We went out.. Got food.. And, you know. But I didn’t take her back to the room.”

I sat quiet for a moment, reeling from the details but mulling them over. It was much less to take than the image I had of them burning a hole in my mind. My eyes drifted away before I spoke again.

“It was just once?” I whispered, as though that was going to make it all go away.

“Once. And it wasn’t even good. It wasn’t really anything,” he scoffed.

No, it didn’t make it better. I was still going to have to come to terms with what happened, and either move on from it, move on from him or let it destroy me. I wasn’t having the latter two. He was my heart and soul, and despite this whole scene playing out before me, I knew I was his, too.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against my hair on the top of my head, and if I didn’t know any better, I would’ve said I heard some kind of emotion catch in his throat.

Swallowing hard, I pulled away from his embrace, feeling defeated. What else could I do? I sniffled again, dragging the back of my hand under my eye. I suddenly felt over dramatic when it was just a kiss shared between them. Still, my heart hurt.

“You don’t have to forgive me,” he said, taking my hand and cupping it between his. “What are you thinking? Talk to me, please..”

“I..” I started, sitting back down on the couch. “I love you, Jared.”

My voice was shaky with emotion and exhaustion. I believed he was sorry. I believed it was a one time mistake. Everyone is human, we all make them. He at least hadn’t been caught doing it before, and anyone knew it was easy to do so when it came to either of us. I shook my head as he sat down beside me, his sight set on nothing else but me. Despite it all, I just wanted to get comfortable and cuddle with him while I fell asleep.

“I love you, too, {Y/N},” he responded. “So fucking much. Even if it doesn’t really seem that way right now.”

Stupid as it was, I cracked a small grin. Maybe it was just the exhaustion, or the booze, or both, but I found it amusing. So amusing, that my next response wasn’t though out at all.

“It’s okay. I fucked Shannon in the other room while you were sleeping before you left, anyway.”

His face, while what I said was a cruel, terrible joke, was priceless.

“I’m kidding, babe,” I sighed, watching his chest rise and fall again as he willed himself to believe me.

I supposed one slip up in the course of our relationship so far wasn’t too bad, considering I had already married myself to the idea that he’d be full blown cheating on me left and right. It didn’t make it any more okay, but, fame was a hell of a drug, and he could have anyone he wanted at the drop of a hat- mad at me or not.

I relaxed a bit, groggy and overwhelmed. I began to feel just a little better that it wasn’t something as far as a passionate night of intimacy in bed. Just lunch and a kiss, or maybe they made out, but, it wasn’t sex.

“Please just tell me you’re not trying to make this a habit. I can’t handle this every time you’re gone.. as it is, I’m going to have it in the back of my head forever,” I complained.

“Absolutely fucking not,” he assured me. “I told you, it was a mistake. A one time, stupid, rash decision.”

Shaking my head, I threw my arms around him and sighed, my breathing still rugged from crying.

“I really thought you two were banging, so I’m relieved.. but still hurt.”

His hand moved to stroke my hair slowly as he kissed the top of my head.

“I know, baby. But the only lips I want to kiss are yours. And the only person I’m trying to bang is you,” he grinned lightly.

Another faint smile crossed my features as I sat up straight before him. It was then that I leaned in, placing my hands on his cut jawline and locking my lips with his.

I kissed him like I never had before; like it was the first time we’d ever kissed after days of sexual tension. I kissed him as though I were taking him back from whatever spell he’d been under, and he kissed me like he’d never get the chance to again in return. When we pulled away, I sighed, brushing my lips against his delicately, feeling the smile that placed itself on his expression all over again.

“Let’s get cleaned up and go to bed,” I whispered, ready to end the madness that was my day.

He nodded, standing up and sweeping me off my feet in one movement, carrying me out of the living room. I gave a slight giggle, nuzzling my nose against his shoulder.

“I’ll show you exactly who belongs where,” he winked, squeezing me playfully with a smirk.

[hollowedsammy]

Hello, hello, everyone! My name is Susie, I am 21-soon-to-be-22, I live in the EST timezone, and this is the first of my two characters, Sam! If you’d like to plot, like this or IM me! This contains his basic info, backstory, info about what he’s currently up to, some misc. information, a small playlist, tropes that apply to him, and wanted connections. Yeah... I went a little hard.

☾  ↪  cillian murphy, male, forty, he/him.  ／  ❛  have you heard from samuel marx lately ？ yeah, the forty year old mechanic / drug dealer. pretty sure they’ve been here twenty years, and from what i’ve heard, sam can be kind of cynical  &  self-serving, but i caught them on a good day once, and they were pretty funny & clever. i’m probably overthinking it, but given all the crazy shit around here, i hope they’re okay. maybe they’re watching their favorite scary movie, i heard it’s child’s play.

trigger warnings: homophobia, parental/domestic abuse, self-harm, depression

BASIC INFORMATION

Full name: Samuel Joseph Marx

Nickname(s): Sam (everyone), Sammy (his mother, close friends, or significant others only)

Age: 40

Gender: male

Sexual orientation: bisexual

Birthday: January 12, 1956

Zodiac: Capricorn

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw

Personality type: ISFJ

Family: Joseph Marx (father, deceased), Serafine Marx (mother, deceased)

Criminal record: shoplifting (3 counts), underage drinking (2 counts), auto theft (1 count), fraud (2 counts), possession with the intent to distribute (2 counts)

TROPES

Beware the Quiet Ones

Cornered Rattlesnake

The Cynic

Deadpan Snarker

Don’t You Dare Pity Me!

Even Bad Men Love Their Mamas

I Just Want to be Loved

I Need a Freaking Drink

Lower-Class Lout

Not Good With People

Perpetual Frowner

The Runaway

Smarter Than You Look

The Snark Knight

Sour Outside, Sad Inside

When He Smiles

FIVE-SONG PLAYLIST

“The Mute” by Radical Face

“Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked” by Cage the Elephant

“Run Boy Run” by Woodkid

“The Kids Aren’t Alright” by Fall Out Boy

“Emperor’s New Clothes” by Panic! at the Disco

BACKGROUND

Sam was born and raised in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. He had a small family -- just him, and his parents. His father was a police officer, and his mother was a housewife.

Sam never got along with his father. Never. He can’t remember a single time that he didn’t entirely despise the man.

Joseph Marx was a corrupt cop, as well as an abusive husband and father. The Marx household was frequently filled with the sounds of slamming doors, screamed profanity, and glass breaking. While he frequently took his anger out on his wife, Sam quickly became Joseph’s favorite target.

Sam was also a favored target of other kids. An incident during which two older boys held him under the water instilled an unshakable case of hydrophobia in him, and he was often beat up when teachers weren’t around. Many said he brought it on himself -- what did he expect, when he was so obviously queer, dressed in such ratty clothes, acted so strangely?

Unsurprisingly, he developed delinquent behavior early on, and was frequently in trouble for cheating on tests, stealing other students’ possessions, skipping class, smoking, drinking, and stealing cars for joyrides.

Bullied at school and abused at home, Sam had few friends, and spent as much time as possible out of the house. He’d wander the swamps and streets alone, only occasionally having a companion with him.

Finally, when he was sixteen, Sam hit a breaking point. A terrible fight with his father led to Sam being thrown into the kitchen window. The glass shattered, cutting into Sam’s skin. His mother tried to help him get cleaned up, but Sam had had enough. That very night, he packed a small bag and snuck out the back door. He stole a truck from one of his neighbors, and hit the road, never to return to Baton Rouge.

Lacking any sort of plan, Sam wandered from town to town, making money via odd jobs, shoplifting, pickpocketing, purse-snatching, and selling dime bags of weed. He had his fair share of scrapes with the law -- even spending six months in a correctional facility when he was eighteen -- but always managed to worm his way out any long-term consequences. 

While in jail, Sam finally wrote to his mother -- now that he was eighteen, he couldn’t be forced to return to his family’s home, so he could assure her that he was alive. While he kept in contact with his mother from then on, Sam never spoke to his father again, and refused to ever return to Baton Rouge, even after his father was shot and killed in the line of duty.

ARRIVAL IN HOLLOWAY

Sam got to Holloway at the age of twenty. He only intended to stay for a couple weeks, long enough to make enough money to make a cross-country trip. The girl he was dating at the time went to school in Maine, and he wanted to go visit her.

When the first Hollow Man murder happened, a couple weeks after Sam’s arrival, he was nervous. When it became evident that there was a serial killer in Holloway, he started thinking maybe he should just say “fuck the money” and skip town altogether. However, before he could, the police were asking to talk to him.

It had been discovered that a couple of the deceased had bought drugs off of Sam a few times. While they hadn’t thought much about Sam at first, this caused the cops to look closer at him. Upon further digging, the investigators found that Sam was a drifter who had dropped out of school and run away from home, had a history of behavior issues, an ever-growing rap sheet, a brief stint in jail to his name, a skittish and antisocial air about him, and an obvious hatred of cops.

Yeah. It did not look good.

Sam was interrogated many times. His story never changed. He did sell weed to two of the deceased. No, he didn’t hurt them. He never even interacted with them beyond the sales. He was asleep at the time of the murders. No, no one can confirm that, he was alone. No, he doesn’t have a hotel room, he’s been sleeping in his truck.

Despite a lack of solid evidence or a motive, Sam was still a prime suspect for the first few murders, and he was told not to leave town. Knowing it’d look much worse if he ran, Sam decided to get a job -- partially because he was stuck in Halloway for the foreseeable future, and partially because he knew he might have to hire a lawyer soon. He eventually persuaded the local auto shop to hire him as a mechanic. (Accused of murder or not, Sam is damn good with cars.)

No official charges were ever brought, and eventually, another murder took place while Sam had a clear alibi, having been drinking in a local bar in full view of at least a dozen people all night. He got busted for having a fake ID, but at least he wasn’t an official murder suspect anymore.

Key word being official. Some suspected that Sam had an accomplice, and that the whole thing was a set-up to clear his name. Despite rumors, whispers, stares, and even a few people accusing him of the crime to his face, he always maintained that he never hurt anybody.

After being cleared, Sam intended to get out of town as soon as he could. But then, the girlfriend in Maine he’d been planning to go see dumped him... via postcard. It was the cherry on top of what had been a shitty few weeks.

Sam decided to stay for a little while until he figured out where to go next. He was rather enjoying having a steady paycheck for once, and it wasn’t like he had a plan. “A little while” eventually turned to twenty years.

NOWADAYS

Sam has now lived in a half-double in town for many, many years. It’s small, but he makes it work.

While most have probably abandoned the idea that Sam killed anybody, he’s still not exactly Mr. Popular in town. He’s known to be a sarcastic, self-centered dick, who has no respect for authority. (Some things never change.)

He still works at the auto shop. The original owner’s son runs it now, but Sam is the longest-standing employee, as well as the best mechanic.

Sam still hates cops. If he could refuse service to them, he would.

He’s still selling weed on the side (his boss looks the other way -- so long as Sam doesn’t get busted while at work, he doesn’t really care), and can be bribed into purchasing alcohol for underage students. However, he refuses to get mixed up in anything harder than that.

He mostly keeps to himself, and isn’t known to be particularly violent. If someone else attacks him, he’ll defend himself, but he rarely throws the first punch.

He’s been in an even more melancholy mood than normal lately, because his mother died last month.

He honestly thought the Hollow Man business was behind him. But now that a new victim has been found, he can feel people looking at him sideways again.

And, no matter how much he says he doesn’t care what other people think... he doesn’t like it at all.

MISC.

Sam’s sexuality is not public knowledge. He’s not ashamed of it, but he also wants to avoid harassment, so he’s only ever openly dated women. The only people who know are men he’s been with in the past, and maybe, maybe a very close friend.

Despite his dislike of people, Sam is quite fond of animals, and even adopted a stray cat he found a couple years ago. He’s named him Hecate, and he is quite possibly the ugliest cat in existence -- he has one eye, crooked fangs, and scratches everything that isn’t Sam.

Sam suffers clinical depression, but is in denial about how serious it actually is. It’s driven him to make some pretty damaging decisions, and he’s had a habit of burning himself with cigarettes since high school. The scars are all over his shoulders, arms, and stomach. 

Sam was -- and still is -- a frequent target of classism. Due to his lack of education and working-class background, many assume the worst in him, and many underestimate his intelligence. While he uses it to his advantage, he is irked by it.

It surprises people to learn that Sam is actually very well-read, and a talented actor. In another life, he could’ve joined a Shakespeare company. In this one, he reads passages aloud to himself when he’s alone.

Sam claims to hate... well, everyone, but he holds a special contempt for bullies and abusers. One of the only times Sam’s been known to instigate a fight is when he got sick of listening to a drunk guy catcall a woman walking by, and just decked him.

Sam still hates water, and refuses to go swimming -- on the rare occasions he has to go near the water, he won’t put his head under.

Sam has a pitch-black sense of humor. The Hollow Man murders are one of the few things he won’t joke about.

SUGGESTED CONNECTIONS

Someone who still believes Sam was or is the Hollow Man.

Related to the above, some of the younger characters have probably been told by their parents to stay away from Sam. Whether or not they listened is up to you.

Friend with benefits.

Exes.

Someone who has become aware of Sam’s depression and is trying to help him -- whether he likes it or not.

Unrequited crush (from either party).

And anything else you can think of!