#dude what shut the fuck up people have disabilities both physical and mental

[queer-ragnelle]

I read some interviews with Witcher author Andrzej Sapkowski looking for any background on his final book in the series, The Lady of The Lake. In all the mythology he claims as inspiration, he never once cites Arthurian Legend despite that being like…integral to the ending. He’s also just a huge asshole. So. Nevermind. I won’t be posting any quotes from him.

#he says things like ‘writers block is overrated’ #says anyone who isn’t writing are making excuses #dude what shut the fuck up people have disabilities both physical and mental #it doesn’t mean they’re less worthy writers #I have far more respect for artists who admit they have to claw their way to the end #writing excuses helps with this #Brando Sando doesn’t count he’s a madlad lol #but Howard Taylor has spoken openly about his depression manifesting as physical pain #John Steinbeck says he wrote best in adversity #which he disliked about himself yet found to be true #I’ve seen lots of authors on Twitter say they got medicated & improved that suffering can’t just be overcome by a can do attitude #anyway fuck Sapkowski I’m taking my wife Yennefer & leaving bye

[ellaintrigue]

Photo credit: Julio Cortez/AP

George Floyd's fiance pleads against the violent protests: https://www.thedailybeast.com/george-floyds-fiancee-pleads-…

YES, racism is alive and well. So is sexism, rape culture, and homophobia, but you don't see the Me Too movement hurting people and destroying property...

YES, George Floyd was murdered. But this goes far beyond racism. I never deny racism, the recent murder of a black man by two white guys in a pickup was clearly racist. But this is an issue of MEN. And POLICE. Cops have always killed people, it's all a matter of what gets the most publicity. I see a photo collage going around of black people that have been shot recently by cops and I find it offensive. Where are the white, Asian, and Hispanics that have also been shot by the police? What about the recent shooting of a white woman? We are all equals, right? https://apnews.com/57b423dcf5e54bdb801d7ea564416a0a

Foolish liberal hypocrisy. Meanwhile I am seeing younger democratic socialists applauding the looting as capitalism being put in its place. What the hell? You see the first article above, George Floyd's loved one said he never wanted this. And what exactly is the relevance to his death? What did Target stores do to George Floyd? How is the guy walking down the street with a backpack of stolen liquor bottles contributing to justice?

This is bullshit of the greedy and the brainwashed, race issues and social topics have been long lost. The majority of the protesters seem to be males enjoying violence. Which again, is what it comes down to.

While a huge feminist, I have no problem admitting that men have their own separate laundry list of issues. Difficulty speaking out, and difficulty getting help for whatever problems they may have because of the stigma of society where men are still not allowed to admit "weakness." I see it in my own father who has outbursts from being overwhelmed by various things. Having to be a tough guy and a financial supporter to a disabled wife but unable to accept or seek support himself.

There are A LOT of angry men out there. Shit, they're justified for the most part! I would definitely not want to be a man. And that is where the position of authority comes in... overcoming your struggles as a male youth and becoming a cop or correctional officer.

There are so many great cops out there! But, I haven't met many of them. Because not everyone overcomes their past and becomes a good cop. Whatever they grew up with or were born with makes them relish power, control, and violence.

I, a lower class (former middle class) white woman, have been victimized by the police. If you think that's a fucking joke because I'm white, refer back to the original point: POLICE VICTIMIZE PEOPLE OF ALL AGES, RACES, GENDERS, ETC.

A few years ago I read an article about a rapist cop. He raped more than one woman, but when they reported it, they were dismissed because he was a cop. His peers made sure he was above the law. So then he rapes an older black woman, someone's grandmother. She raised hell and he finally got in trouble. Was she listened to because she was black? HELL TO THE NO, women are treated like shit. A black woman? I've seen black women treated horribly my entire life. It's just how it is.

But no one felt like bringing this pig to justice, because, well, white male cop. Cops obviously deal with criminals and folks they will naturally regard as lower class, and none of these folks are going to be believed over a cop. From dating men of questionable backgrounds, I have heard horror stories of prisoners being beaten by cops and correctional officers and all kinds of shit. But who is going to believe some felon over a police officer?

May marked the 4 year anniversary of my ex-boyfriend almost killing me. It was hell, I struggled all month. My mom having cancer, the anniversary, the pandemic, now everyone running around setting shit on fire because they want free TVs... HOLY FUCK. PTSD trigger much?

I've wanted to talk about that, but I felt I couldn't, because, well, he's stalked me since. How did this happen? People think I was a battered woman but that's not true. Women stay with abusive partners and I did not. I got with this guy knowing he had a record, as others before him, but did not expect the onslaught of mental illness. The guy before him was bipolar and would shut down, lay on the bed and just be totally mute or sob. This new guy, after about 3 months into a relationship, would have manic episodes that would lead to suicide attempts. Over time I found out that he was a diagnosed bipolar, and rumored (unconfirmed) schizophrenic. I begged and begged for him to stick to taking meds, which clearly helped over the course of months, but he would stop taking them because he felt he "didn't need them," which is the cruelest cliche of the mentally ill and why so many don't function at all.

So I ended up having to call the cops on him multiple times in the course of 3 years when he lost his shit. Not once did he ever harm me, although you can see, and I can see, now, that it was unhealthy and dangerous for everyone involved regardless. The first time I dealt with the cops over him was when he got a DUI in my truck with his friend. but the friend was driving. I woke up at midnight to this chaos and remember a black female cop intimidating me and screaming at me because I was standing near a beer bottle on the ground and I was "hiding evidence." Which was bullshit since the driver had already been arrested. Who the fuck cares about a random Bud Light bottle lying in my yard? The DUI was in Ocean City. Whatever.

The same fucking night my shitfaced, manic boyfriend logs onto my computer and reads like 7 years worth of texts between me and a male friend, accusing me of fucking him. After a long night of dealing with the other drama it was like hell never ended. He's on my computer, looking at everything I have and accusing me of cheating. Never met the dude, never tried to be with the dude, but that seemed pretty moot. Even if your partner has nothing to hide, you shouldn't be going through their shit. IF YOU DO NOT TRUST THE PERSON YOU ARE WITH, LEAVE THEM. IF YOU HAVE ONGOING ISSUES WITH MANIA OR PARANOIA, GET HELP.

Well, perhaps I seem a hypocrite in protesting violence against women, and I did something I'm not proud of: I punched the fuck out of him. He then got up and put my shotgun in his mouth. He didn't pull the trigger but obviously that scarred me for life. I called 911 and they chased him down in the woods and took him to the mental ward in Salisbury. I dealt with 3 male cops that were kind to me and said I did the right thing by hiding the gun afterward and calling 911. My neighbor also helped me, which I am incredibly grateful for.

I should have left, hands down. But because I never felt physically threatened by him: I felt I was helping him, he could get better, and I kept trying. I have never been a woman that wanted a "project" as some people want, where they find someone to fix or better as a person. But I loved this man and tried my best, stupid as I was.

He was fine for months after that, another huge factor in me staying. We were just boyfriend and girlfriend, enjoying life, until he had another manic episode. Once he went 6 months with no signs of anything at all. Again, at this point in things, I have nothing to candycoat in my life. I am an open book, and in 2018, came out about being raped by a man in 2011, and got judged harshly. I've had to accept that no matter what I say, I will be questioned and put down because that is how victims are treated.

So in 2015 he came home late at night, screaming the FBI were in the bushes and smashing things. He accused me and a family member of conspiring with the government against him and stripped half of his clothes off, threatening to kill himself. Just like that, he would go from a calm person that worked all day to a raging maniac in the most literal form.

I called 911 and was in tears by the time two very tall male cops showed up. That is the main thing I remember, I am 5'2 and these men were both over 6'0 and stood way too close to me. My boyfriend was running around screaming utter nonsense and one cop talked to him, another talked to me. The two men ID'd me and laughed at the fact I always wore lipstick, in the pic and in real life, a habit since I was 14. Then they told me they weren't going to do anything with my boyfriend, who was still screaming and stomping around. I said, "but he's clearly unstable and threatening to kill himself." Both of the cops stood roughly two feet from me, and the heavyset olive skinned officer moved in even closer, shining his flashlight in my face, his breath bearing down on me, and said, "if you call 911 or anyone again tonight, you will both be arrested."

I felt scared of them at this point and they told me my option was to leave my home, leaving my boyfriend there. They asked me if I had family in the area and I said no. "Well, we can't help you then. Plus we want to go and get dinner," the thick one said, before laughing with his partner, who was a thinner blond man. So they waited until I got in my car and left, then they left, leaving my ex still standing screaming in the middle of the yard.

I had nowhere to go, so I went to his aunt's house and spent the night. At one point in the night I heard my boyfriend's truck screech through Berlin, looking for me, but knew I couldn't call 911 anymore because I WAS threatened. And cops can do what they want, no one is going to listen to some white trash chick with a crazy boyfriend.

I called 911 one other time before things got truly worse (I know, right). I got one of the cops that I had dealt with when he put the shotgun in his mouth and he threw him in the mental ward after a brief car chase.

By spring 2016 my boyfriend wasn't working, binge drinking, and seeming off on a regular basis so I somehow managed to drop him off at a homeless shelter despite him initially standing in a Wendy's parking lot screaming I was out to get him.

Finally, in May he became increasingly manic before literally waking up one morning with this weird hollow look in his eyes and screaming the worst threats against me and his family I had ever heard. First I tried to be calm, then I tried to run from him when I thought he wasn't looking and he ran after me and jumped on me. And that was the first time I felt actually afraid that he would hurt me. I thought he would hit me. Instead, he dragged me through the woods by my ankles so hard my leggings were pulled down and became filled with dirt, leaves, and sticks, threw me on the porch and then dragged me into my house. He tortured me for 1-3 hours. I think it was between 1 and 2 hours. Years later I sat down with a shrink and told her, I can't remember, I truly can't. I just remember the intense fear and shame of what it would be like for my dad to come into my house and find me dead. The doctor pursed her lips as she listened to me and reassured me that people with PTSD often have trouble remembering details. In fact, I couldn't piece together how bad the whole thing was until 2018, around the same time I talked about being raped, because I had repressed memories so hard. There was a point where I vividly remembered everything both men had done to me respectively, including a lifelong physical injury I had also blocked out. Like, I knew it was there, I just never allowed myself to think about why.

Instead of killing me, thank fuck, my boyfriend left me lying on a plastic floor mat he had just put a cigarette out in that he been holding over my eye and walked out of the house, stealing my truck. So I called 911, in a sort of daze I seemed the most worried about the stupid truck. But I really couldn't comprehend anything at that point. I shouldn't have bothered calling, because ding-dong, who is at the door, but one of the cops that essentially kicked me out of my house in 2015, leaving me to wonder if my boyfriend would kill himself or burn the place down. The thin, blond cop. The first thing I noticed was his eyes when I spoke to him that day. His pupils were tiny pin-pricks and it was shockingly noticeable. He looked like he was blind or something, because he had wide blue irises with these teeny tiny pupils. Frankly it was creepy, but wasn't relevant to the situation. I told him my ex went nuts, then stole my truck. He starts screaming at me and asking me what I wanted to do, and why the hell did I call. I completely shut down and just felt scared of him. Thinking about telling him about the assault just evaded my head, all I could think was that I was being cornered and I had to get away. He walked around the yard looking at other shit my ex had torn up, yelled at me some more, then left. This cop was almost manic and I was afraid he would arrest me for annoying him.

I finally got my truck back with the help of my grandmother after watching my boyfriend acting insane in front of his boss, who he had driven to. The man got a restraining order against him that week after seeing the violent instability and I made our breakup official at the same time. I knew I was done the second he dragged me through the woods. That was the first time he had ever put hands on me and the torture session would be the last. (I was lucky in that he had tossed me around and suffocated me in a headlock, etc., rather than getting a knife or something... it could have been so much worse.)

At this point, regardless of what people around him did, my now-ex was clearly gone mentally. Not sure how or why it got that bad, but all of his issues just imploded on him at once, almost overnight. So 2016 to 2018 he stalked me and made my life a living hell. He called me and I was afraid to disconnect my number right away because I felt it was a way of tracking him/how dangerous he was any particular day. After screaming for him to leave me alone and calling the cops even more times failed, I felt I had to be nice to him to keep him at bay, or when he started coming into my job, so I wouldn't make a scene. I finally got a domestic violence order in 2017 and stood before the court and described my assault so the judge to decide if I had just cause.

About a month after that, my ex called me threatening to kill himself so I felt super happy about calling 911. Finally they would put his ass in jail. A cop in his early 20's showed up, flirted with me, called his boss and they told me that there was not enough cause to jail my ex. The cop told me to "just talk things over" with my ex and then left after staring at my tits through my sweatshirt.

More time goes by, more bullshit, afraid to go to work, afraid to come home at night. Mace didn't make me feel safer, guns didn't make me feel safer, having coworkers didn't make me feel safer. My dad was screaming at me that I had brought this all on myself by being with a nut for so long. I felt like a hunted animal. My boss complained about me calling out of work over this. Finally my ex's other ex-girlfriend who he was with after me comes into my job, says he assaulted her, and that he was dangerously obsessed with me and my boss finally took me seriously.

I couldn't do anything about phone calls or online harassment. He would message me online telling me he hated me and stuff and I would just block him. Then, one day in September, during Ocean City bike week, he showed up on a bicycle, cornering me in the parking lot of my job as I walked to my shift. I was in utter terror and for a moment he looked like he would attack me again but I just kept on walking, and did not pause. My coworker wanted to know why I was being confronted and I said "THAT'S HIM, THAT'S HIM. I'M SO SORRY, NIKKI, I'M NOT CLOCKING IN RIGHT NOW. I AM CALLING 911."

Two cops showed up, a male and a female and ID'd me, and looked at my DV order. I asked if it was okay for me to lift the sweater on my front seat up to get my purse and the male cop brushed that off, acting like I was a non-threat. But I knew I had to move slow, because, well, cops shoot people. White, black, male, female, non-bindary-gender, whatever.

They saw I had all my paperwork in order then they started fucking yelling at me! They told me they really didn't have time to look for him since it was Bike Week and they were busy! I don't know what else they said to me, I think they were confused about what phone number I used the most because I had 2 at that point. I broke into tears and the male cop said "you don't have to do none of that." I walked back into the store and they came back in again, and my coworker told everyone later on how nasty the cops were too me. I knew it wasn't just me but it was good to finally have a witness this time around.

They looked around for my ex at two known locations then gave up, I had called and asked. 3 days later he attacked his other ex, the one that I had spoken to and they arrested him on both that and my DV order. He was jailed for several months and since then his stalking has been infrequent aside from him popping up on Tumblr this winter to make fun of my cat dying. Because I left him, for assaulting me, he now, in whatever the fuck is left of his mind, wants me to live a life of hell. During one phone call he screamed "YOU WILL NEVER BE HAPPY UNTIL I'M HAPPY."

I'd love to count on him staying gone, but I know better. His brother added me on FaceBook not too long ago and I said hi, and he said "you know you're the love of my brother's life, right?" I told him I wanted nothing to do with my ex. "Not even friends?" I told him that my ex tried to kill me then made my life hell and he said he didn't know and the conversation ended.

I'm not afraid of my ex's brother. I don't think he added me purely to help my ex. This man isn't crazy. This man didn't try to kill me, and isn't going to. But the sheer mindfuckery of it: how can you try to get back with the woman you abused? How can you use threats to try and get back with her? Another time my ex called me and screamed over me posting pictures with my last ex, mocking it. Why would I be with him, instead of the guy that abused me?

...Why would I want to be with a guy that I felt safe with that never abused me? Golly gosh, no idea. But it's all just a headfuck that I will be scarred by for life.

Summary: Cops and the severely mentally ill are capable of ruining the lives of anyone, of any color. 🤷‍♀️

#PTSD

[connywrites]

Shallow

now on [ao3]

-

“I don’t know why I…feel like I need to fight all the time,” Leo admitted. He didn’t notice at all the way he cupped Markus’ cheeks in his hands, looking over his face for any sign of severe injury, as if the android’s wounds would react like a human’s and thus be left irreparable.

“What are you looking for?” Embarrassed, Leo blinked, shaking his head and stepping back with an awkward shrug.

“You did it when I was punched in the face, last time. Guess it just sorta…happened.” Markus’ eyes lit up for a moment, realization striking him with a bit of excitement; he reached out to grab Leo by the arm to share the way his body seemed to jumble in anticipation beneath him, but decided against it as he remembered Leo’s specific sense of personal boundaries.

“That was important, Leo. Do you know what that means?” Looking lost and a bit more tired, Leo did nothing more than throw a gaze that showed he felt overestimated. Pausing, Markus looked sympathetic before he continued speaking, his voice softer with less of a rush to his phrases this time.

“You showed sympathy. Even many androids have difficulty with this. I haven’t seen you go out of your way to check on someone else before.” Leo’s only thought was about how he refused to have this conversation, turning to make haste towards the living room.

“No, wait!” Markus’ voice wasn’t so vigor as still excited, wanting to share this revelation with the person who should be reveling in it in the first place.

“Leo, this isn’t a confrontation. I mean it in a good way.” Markus felt disheartened that Leo never seemed to want to listen, no matter what he was telling him, even when it was a good thing. While he understood to a limited extent how difficult it was to come to terms with yourself, Leo avoided even the slightest hint of it, improvement or not, like the plague. This was what made communicating difficult, and the reason Markus insisted he’d have to follow close behind if he wanted to make his way through to Leo. Again.

“We have to work on this. Anyway, thanks for caring. It’s a good sign, even if you don’t like being told—” Leo whipped around to shoot him a cold glare, licking over his chapped lips and tapping his fingers together to keep himself from swinging punches.

“Remember what we talked about? Not to talk to me like a fucking counselor?” Momentarily stunned, Markus felt ashamed of himself for becoming so overbearing again. In the routine of trying to adjust to Leo’s aggressive personality, he’d began to pick up some confrontative quirks as well, and they weren’t terribly useful or productive secondhand habits.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.” There was no right way to talk to Leo; he just had to soften his tone and try his best, hoping Leo was feeling gracious at the moment with his mood. Today wasn’t his lucky day.

“I hate hearing about all that brain bullshit. You don’t want me to treat you like a computer, I don’t want you to treat me like a weird chunk of meat. It’s annoying and makes you look like a jerk.” As the realization dawned on him, Markus took a moment to step aside for himself this time, leaving Leo looking annoyed with a useless shrug, smacking his hands to his sides in defeat.

“Whatever, man. Sorry I punched you.”

-

"It's just like, I want them to shut up, and it's that easy. You know what makes people shut up? Fists. And bullets."

The serious tone about a matter from a man like Leo, still full of youth and anticipation yet so vicious and opposing, brought unpleasant flashbacks upon Markus as he sat there, listening.

"You wanted me to shut up?" The question immediately felt silly spoken outside his head, considering Leo's nature of shutting out what he didn't like.

"Do you always act like you're the only one in the room?" That time the inquiry was sharp, intended to pry into the part of Leo's consciousness that got him to actually stop and think. It seemed to work as he paused, offense drilling into his chest, causing him to puff up his stature as he often did when feeling threatened by anyone physically larger than him.

"Oh, come on, Markus. You started a war. Don't act like you don't understand wanting someone to just shut up and deal with it. I've never had to use fire to prove my point. I've done a lot of shitty stuff, but I've never shot anyone. My fists are all I've got, dude."

Markus was surprised both by Leo's clarity, the rough disposition he'd been raised in, as well as how right he was; but it was an unfair comparison in his opinion, as he'd had to fight by the masses and that wasn't something Leo had dealt with. Still, they both have done whatever it takes to defend their own lives, and he wished Leo could see that was the point he was trying to make.

-

Leo had forgotten the feeling of twisting guilt, keeping him awake with the nagging truths that always emerged in imagined voices that tore him down. Something internal that sounded external and never failed to remind him how useless and pathetic he was. A couple told him to kill himself on a semi-regular basis. One in the far back sounded like his mom in her worst moments, and any other whisper of his psyche was a replica of negative memories composed into something new and relevant. Mental illness and learning disability had yet to grace his ears with any hope of success, leaving him to firmly believe all the mistakes made in his life were his fault alone, simply for being how he was. It ultimately led up to an intolerable personality that no one wanted to be around, therefore inevitably leaving him on his own again. The way he acted always seemed to be a weird combination of feeling like he was on top of the world, or below the deepest layers of hell yet deserved worse, depending, and it generally changed with the flip of a dime or less. Markus had no idea how to navigate it, but sometimes he said the right thing and got him to calm down; figuring out what it took was another riddle in itself.

-

“Why are you so afraid of success?” Blinking, Leo raised his eyebrows, reminding himself not to be so surprised an android didn’t understand the complicated emotional aspects of life that confused most humans on a daily basis.

“Okay, that, you’re never gonna get. I…don’t think,” Leo corrected himself, realizing his selfishness in assuming again. On second thought, there was no way he could be so sure, as Markus continued to surprise him with the amount of depth he actually did seem to experience emotions. It was confusing and strange, but over time he started seeing it more naturally; it was the majority of his skeptical personality that still had a while to work past.

“That’s the hardest thing. People work their asses off to do something good or useful in the world. Most of the time, it’s not worth it, nothing happens.” He remembered Carl begging him countless times, offering to pay for whatever school or university he wanted; drop the drugs and get an education. You could become something great. Leo hated the way he insisted he had talent, as if he could make something of himself from dirty gutter water when Carl had the world in his hands; it felt unfair and mocking, the way only a rich, comfortable family member sneezing lies and false hopes down to his homeless, beggar dropout of a son could do. He didn’t mean to lie to you, he reminded himself, but wasn’t sure if he believed it.

“I bet you’ve heard dad talk about it all the time. The art industry is fake, any of it, all of it is. If you can draw, or you’re pretty, or you split your tongue in half, or do a cool trick, then you’re cool and popular and you get a bunch of money. None of it means anything – it just screws over low-lives that can’t do anything useful, like me!” While Markus had a solid understanding of politics and how they worked, he’d never considered it from a personal standpoint as he’d never had any real reason to, leaving him withdrawn as he listened to Leo.

“All rich people do is give money to other rich people while poor people can barely get by with a fucking dayjob, and that’s without talking minimum wage or felony charges.”

“Your father gave you plenty of money, Leo. You spent it on drugs.”

“That’s not the point!” Leo snapped his fingers before they tangled in his hair as he steamed over what the original topic was, realizing he’d derailed himself.

“Okay, whatever. It’s just, the system’s rigged and I’m not gonna let it fuck me any harder.” Markus visibly winced from the image the words painted in his mind.

“I said success,” Markus notified him.

“What you’re talking about is failure.” Leo scratched his head, almost missing the wisdom in a moment of confusion, but after a second of forced focus, he caught on.

“Uh. Yeah. I mean, I guess.” Of course he’d never made the connection before, when every outcome depended on how he took on the next challenge, and that never went well. He’d never succeeded, so he never expected to, and thus never saw a reason to try, a self-fulfilling prodigy of his own fear of working hard only to fail.

“It’s harder to stay sober if you don’t have long-term goals. Right?” Markus reminded himself not to talk over Leo, lest he get smacked across the face a few more times.

“Yeah, they mention that,” Leo replied, although reluctantly, averting his gaze with a sigh.

“Any job in the world. Which one would you want?” Leo scoffed with a twitch of one eyebrow, quirking it and tilting his head as if he couldn’t believe the words he’d heard.

“Oh, that’s cute. You read that from the therapy book? Haven’t heard that question before.” Markus waited patiently until Leo’s body posture slouched and lowered, signaling he was ready to continue on without further antagonization.

“If I had to work doing something all my life to earn sleeping and eating, I might as well do something useful. I’d build, but I can’t measure anything. Farming means knowing how to take care of plants, and you think that’s easy? No way! Everything’s complicated, o-or overdone, or overrated and underpaid and I don’t want to deal with it. Okay? Not school, not a job, nothing. I’m not slaving under some fatass for a car I’m never gonna afford to funnel money into until I die. It’s just… I can’t do it.” Dad’s inheritance will be enough, he thought, but not only didn’t want to say it, but he wasn’t entirely sure with how undependable his spending habits were—there was a reason he wasn’t supposed to have it yet and he knew that, whether he liked it or not.

“What would you do under different circumstances, then?” Markus continued.

“Just, because you wanted to.”

This question struck him silent for a long minute as Leo wasn’t sure what to say. Did he have actual interests? For the most part, he did what he had to for the sake of getting by, not necessarily for fun or leisure.

“I think you don’t like anything to do with obligation,” Markus pointed out, keeping his voice calm so as not to agitate Leo further with his words. The sentence was already slightly accusatory in nature, but he was hoping to hold Leo’s attention long enough to explain himself properly.

“You’re fine with plants, but farming sounds impossible to you. I know you’ll find ways to make money if it suits you, but not if you have to. If you look at the world that way, of course you’ll bring yourself to failure without even trying. Literally.” Leo wore a brighter tint on his cheek in the moment of surprise at being called out so well, considering he’d never been confronted so precisely before.

“It’s complicated,” he excused with a stiff shake of his head, avoiding the subject with a step to the side as he turned to walk towards the kitchen. He didn’t have to see Markus following him to know he was approaching, turning to deflect him as soon as he’d neared the dining table.

“You know what will get you by in this world? Knowing your needles, plants and your guns. What can kill you and what can save your life. The kind of glock that officer shot you with? Those wounds would kill a human on the spot.” In a moment of feeling brave, he pulled up the waistline of his shirt, revealing a few of the scattered scars across his torso before pointing to a deeply engraved, round one on the right side of his chest, a few inches below and to the right of his nipple and tucked between where a pair of ribs were if he didn’t take a deep breath. Markus blinked with a sympathetic lift of his eyebrows as he eased his expression.

“I know that you want to stand for the same sorta thing,” Leo aggressed.

“But you getting shot, and this? It’s not gonna be the same. You can’t feel pain, and no matter how many emotions you think you have, you’ll never know agony.”

“Leo, both of us can breathe, and bleed, and die. Thinking and feeling is all part of that experience,” he explained, yet didn’t sound so sure, even to himself. Leo’s point was made and understood, as Markus agreed that he was right in the fact there was never going to be a way for himself to experience or understand physical pain. His frustration was less in the difference of comparing events and tragedies, like how Leo seemed to be dealing with, and moreso in the fact he wanted to aid Leo with metaphorical weapons to fight in this war yet felt helpless as he had nothing to offer, and Leo was only widening the gap between them.

Leo wanted to argue back but stopped beforehand this time as something within him made him realize spilling the words wouldn’t be worthwhile for once. Arguing about death and injury was depressing, anyway, and it wouldn’t get either of them anywhere; so, dropping the subject, he left.

Again.

#leos writing has been ???? sorry its choppy #but its been teaching me some things...showing me some ways #dbh: leo manfred #dbh: markus #detroit: become human

[jadrian-kilroy]

Master of puppets/ I'm pulling your strings/Twisting your mind and smashing your dreams - Metallica 

BASIC QUESTIONS

First name? Jack. 

Surname? Kilroy. 

Middle names? Adrian. 

Nicknames? Just Jack. 

Date of birth? October 13th. 

Age? Sixteen.

PHYSICAL / APPEARANCE

Height? 6′1

Weight? 170ish?

Build? Tall and skinny. 

Hair colour? Blonde.

Hair style? Long-ish. Curly. 

Eye colour? Greenish blue.

Eye Shape? Eyeish. .

Glasses or contact lenses? Neither, he got the good eyes. 

Distinguishing facial features? Good jaw. 

Which facial feature is most prominent? Jaw. 

Which bodily feature is most prominent? Torso. 

Other distinguishing features? Stubble. 

Skin? Pale.

Hands? Big.

Make up? If Stella’s bored. 

Scars? Tons. 

Birthmarks? On his neck. 

Tattoos? A few.

Physical handicaps? None.

Type of clothes? T-shirt, jeans, boots. 

How do they wear their clothes? Like on his body. 

What are their feet like? Big.

Race / Ethnicity? White.

Mannerisms? Pushes his hair back a lot. 

Are they in good health? Yes.

Do they have any disabilities? No.

PERSONALITY

What words or phrases do they overuse? Cool, man, dude. 

Do they have a catchphrase? Shut the fuck up, man. 

Are they more optimistic or pessimistic? Mostly pessimistic. He’s a Kilroy. 

Are they introverted or extroverted? Both. 

What bad habits do they have? Touching his hair. 

What makes them laugh out loud? Dark, dark, humor. 

How do they display affection? Sometimes. 

Mental handicaps? None.

How do they want to be seen by others? Just a cool guy. 

How do they see themselves? Just a cool guy. 

How are they seen by others? Just a cool guy. 

Strongest character trait? Easygoing.

Weakest character trait? Too easygoing.

How competitive are they? Meh.

Do they make snap judgement or take time to consider? Snap.

How do they react to praise? Give it to him. 

How do they react to criticism? Shut the fuck up, man. 

What is their greatest fear? Not knowing what to do with his life. 

What are their biggest secrets? He wishes he was more like his siblings. 

What is their philosophy of life? Be cool. 

When was the last time they cried? Forever ago. 

What haunts them? Nothing, really. 

What are their political views? Gooooooood.

What will they stand up for? Anything about himself or his family. 

Are they indoorsy or outdoorsy? Indoorsy. Outdoorsy if he has to be. 

What is their sinful little habit? Smoking. 

What sense do they most rely on? Sight. 

How do they treat people better than them? Who dat. 

How do they treat people worse than them? Whatever. 

What quality do they most value in a friend? Funny. 

What do they consider an overrated virtue? Selflessness.

If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be? Nada.

What is their obsession? Photography. 

What are their pet peeves? So so many things. 

FRIENDS AND FAMILY

Is their family big or small? Who does it consist of? Medium. Dad, Mom, Lucy, him and Harry. Plus, Ingrid and Oldest Harry. 

What is their perception of family? Family 4 lyfe. 

Do they have siblings? Older or younger? Lucy & Harry. 

Describe their best friend. Stella. 

Ideal best friend? Stella. 

Describe their other friends. Not Stella. 

Describe their acquaintances. Still not Stella. 

Do they have any pets? His mom has Cash the dog and Lucy has Lilith the cat. 

Who are their natural allies? Family. 

Who are their surprising allies? Stella. 

PAST AND FUTURE

What was your character like as a baby? As a child? The nice one. 

Did they grow up rich or poor? Good enough.

Did they grow up nurtured or neglected? Surprisingly, nurtured. 

What is the most offensive thing they ever said? Um. He’s a Kilroy still. 

What is their greatest achievement? Get paid for his photography. 

What was their first kiss like? It was okay. 

What is the worst thing they did to someone they loved? What is love.

What are their ambitions? Photography. 

What advice would they give their younger self? He’s young still. 

What smells remind them of their childhood? Cigarettes and paint. 

What was their childhood ambition? To be an artist. 

What is their best childhood memory? Realizing he was the middle child and had more freedom. 

What is their worst childhood memory? Almost drowned once. that wasn’t fun. 

Did they have an imaginary childhood friend? No.

When was the last time they were crushed with disappointment? Stella’s still not into him so. 

What past act are they most ashamed of? Never ashamed. 

What past act are they most proud of? Not telling Ruby he liked her cause Harry liked her more. 

Has anyone ever saved their life? Yeah, a lifeguard. 

Strongest childhood memory? Getting his first camera. 

LOVE

Do they believe in love at first sight? No.

Are they in a relationship? No.

How do they behave in a relationship? Like himself. 

When did you character last have sex? Months ago. 

What sort of sex do they have? ;)

Has your character ever been in love? No.

Have they ever had their heart broken? No.

CONFLICT

How do they respond to a threat? Yelling.

Are they most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue? Tongue. 

What is your character’s kryptonite? Family. 

If your character could only save one thing from their burning house, what would it be? Camera. 

How do they perceive strangers? Whatever. 

What do they love to hate? Blogs and bloggers. 

What are their phobias? Spiders. 

What is their choice of weapon? Words. 

What living person do they most despise? No one.

Have they ever been bullied or teased? Probably. 

Where do they go when they’re angry? To his room. 

Who are their enemies and why? Who cares. 

WORK, EDUCATION AND HOBBIES

What is their current job? Freelance photography. 

What do they think about their current job? It’s a dream. 

What are some of their past jobs? None.

What are their hobbies? Photography, editing, sleeping, eating. 

Educational background? In high school.

Intelligence level? Not the smartest, not the dumbest. 

Do they have any specialist training? No.

Do they have a natural talent for something? Yelling.

Do they play a sport? Are they any good? Sports aren’t for him.

What is their socioeconomic status? Living. 

FAVOURITES

What is their favourite animal? Sharks. 

Which animal to they dislike the most? Spiders. 

What place would they most like to visit? Anywhere. 

What is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen? Stella. 

What is their favourite song? Why Can’t This Be Love

Music, art, reading preferred? Rock, photography, magazines. 

What is their favourite colour? Purple. 

What is their password? fucyu696969!

Favourite food? Sushi. 

What is their favourite work of art? His photography. 

Who is their favourite artist?  Dad. 

What is their favourite day of the week? Saturday.

POSSESSIONS

What is in their fridge: So many snacks, no real food. 

What is on their bedside table? Trash.

What is in their car? No car. 

What is in their bin? More trash. 

What is in their purse or wallet? Receipts and stuff. Trash.

What is in their pockets? More trash.

What is their most treasured possession? Camera. 

SPIRITUALITY

Who or what is your character’s guardian angel? Ain’t got one. 

Do they believe in the afterlife? No.

What are their religious views? None.

What do they think heaven is? Nothing.

What do they think hell is? Nothing. 

Are they superstitious? No.

What would they like to be reincarnated as? Himself. 

How would they like to die? Epically. 

What is your character’s spirit animal? Lion. Could kill you, would rather sleep.

What is their zodiac sign? Libra.

VALUES

What do they think is the worst thing that can be done to a person? Killin’ em dude. 

What is their view of ‘freedom’? His life. 

When did they last lie? Recently. 

What’s their view of lying? It’s what relationships are based on.

When did they last make a promise? It doesn’t count if his fingers were crossed.

Did they keep or break their last promise? Ha. 

DAILY LIFE

What are their eating habits? Junk food. 

Do they have any allergies? Not that he’s aware of. 

Describe their home. A house his dad redid for them. 

Are they minimalist or a clutter hoarder? He’s a mess. 

What do they do first thing on a weekday morning? Try to kill his alarm. 

What do they do on a Sunday afternoon? Edits pictures. 

What do they do on a Friday night? Hang. 

What is the soft drink of choice? Coke.

What is their alcoholic drink of choice? Anything.

MISCELLANEOUS

What is their character archetype? Who knows. 

Who is their hero? Harry & Blair. 

What or who would your character dress up as for Halloween? A guy with a pumpkin shirt. 

Are they comfortable with technology? Yes.

If they could save one person, who would it be? Harry jr. 

If they could call one person for help, who would it be? Lucy.

Where do they see themselves in ten years? Living life. 

What is their greatest extravagance? Camera equipment. 

What is their greatest regret? Forgetaboutit. 

What is their perception of redemption? You can do it. 

What would they do if they won the lottery? Move out, buy a studio. 

What is their favourite fairytale? None. 

What fairytale do they hate? All. 

Do they believe in happy endings? They’re possible. 

What is their idea of perfect happiness? Huh.

What would they ask a fortune teller? That shits fake. 

If your character could travel through time, where would they go? Future.

What sport do they excel at? None.

What sport do they suck at? All.

If they could have a superpower, what would they choose? Telekinesis. 

#c;life

[southpark-imagines-headcanons]

Kenny McCormick Headcanons

Because Kenny is my sun child. 

- Kenny to me seems like the kinda dude who is actually so much smarter than other people give him credit for. Like people look at his home life and his poverty and assume he can’t be that smart or invested in school work, when in actuality Kenny gets a steady stream of As and Bs because he actually cares about his life. I think, while he loves them deep down, he’s actually scared of becoming like his parents, so he’s determined to not become them. 

- This could irritate other students though because to them he looks as though he never does anything. To them he just slacks off until the last minute to cram in some studying and passes with ease. He’s actually studying his ass off all the time. 

- I think Kyle would be the only person to know the truth. They could be study buddies. 

- He wouldn’t stand for bullying. Playful teasing, that’s all good, but maliciously picking on someone else? No I don’t think he’d stand for that. He wouldn’t let it happen to his sister, so he wouldn’t let it happen to others either. I remember reading this story on tumblr a little while ago about a gay student being bullied and an older student wrote the bully a note that basically said they were on the football team or something and had two gay dads and wouldn’t hesitate to kick the bully’s ass. Kenny would definitely do that I think, but his would read; “Dear Little Bitch picking on the openly gay student, fuck off with that shit or you’ll have me, the openly pansexual senior, to deal with.” 

- And with that, I think Kenny is a lot stronger than he looks too. He may be on the kinda scrawny side but he knows where to throw his weight to pin someone down. Also being killed violently in so many different scenarios must have given Kenny some level of pain tolerance. He must still feel pain but I imagine being punched is nothing compared to being eaten alive or set on fire or impaled on something. 

- I also see him as being a lean, tall dude, about 5′11 - 6′0. He slouches a lot though, his posture is awful. 

With So Headcanons

- I think his experience with Tammy would lead him to wanting to save sex for until after marriage, or at least until after he’s been dating his so for a long time, is completely comfortable with them and trusts them. 

- He loves giving his so piggyback rides, or if they’re tall enough, getting piggyback rides off them. Sometimes he pretends to drop them into snow just to hear them squeal and laugh as they playfully slap at his chest to get him to stop. 

- He’d be into PDA, he doesn’t care how other people see him. He wants to walk down the street with them with their hands intertwined, to have his arm thrown over their shoulders or theirs over his, to give them kisses on the cheeks or forehead and cuddle them. He loudly informs people that they can suck his dick if anyone pretends to be sick at their interactions. 

- He’s not a big cuddler in bed though. He more passes out than falls asleep, taking up nearly all the space in the bed so his so nearly falls out. He usually sleeps on his front with his arm dangling over the side of the bed. He makes the most pleased little sleep hum when his so wraps their arms around him. So I see him as the little spoon when they do cuddle. I think he’d like to be held. 

- He totally talks in his sleep though so his so has to lean over and be like, “I love you but please for the love of God shut the fuck up.” 

- If his so had a mental disorder of any kind, or a physical disability, he’d research into it so he could understand them better. If they were okay with it, he’d ask a lot of questions about it. He wants to make sure he never hurts them, and also to know what to do in case they had a mental breakdown or an anxiety attack or were in any other kind of pain. 

- Dates with him would have to be simple and sweet because he can’t afford a lot and doesn’t feel comfortable having his so pay for anything expensive. He’d get more enjoyment doing something they both love rather than just dinner and a movie, which seems rather boring to him. 

- I don’t think he’d mind people flirting with his so, unless his so was super uncomfortable with flirting full stop, because yes his so is gorgeous please look upon my so and how gorgeous they are, yes. But the second the person flirting starts getting handsy or ignoring the so’s protests, Kenny is over in an instant and he doesn’t have to say anything. He just has this steel cold look in his eyes that actually makes the person do a double take before slowly backing off while chuckling nervously. “It was just a joke, man.” Kenny’s not laughing. Afterwards he’s like an attention starved puppy towards the so, with his arms wrapped around them and his body pressed tight against theirs. 

- He gets the t-shirt that says, “Sin” and leaves it in the so’s side of the wardrobe (if they live together) or just leaves it at their house. He has the, “Not Guilty” shirt. His so calls him out on his bullshit. 

#kenny mccormick #kenneth mccormick #kenny mccormick x reader #kenneth mccormick x reader #kenny mccormick headcanons #south park headcanons #south park #south park reader insert #kenny mccormick x oc