#Once again I am in trouble

[stripedwolf88]

Me: *has the urge to flirt*

Also Me: WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING STOP THAT RIGHT NOW THAT IS A DEFINITE NO

[quixoticprince]

When your medic leaves to go pocket another man or something

[egophiliac]

this is basically what happened, right?

(these guys are very lucky that everyone at NRC 1) has the combined intelligence of a sack of bricks, and 2) is easily distracted by shiny things.)

[stormyoceans]

LINE READING SO DEVASTATING I NEED TO DIE ABOUT IT

[starculler]

strap in for this week's fic flavor: the failsafe episode of season one of the young justice cartoon except the simulation just won't. fuckin. end.

(fics that inspired this at the end)

If I ever did sit down to make my own fic, I'd split it in 3 parts:

The Simulation: bits and pieces of the 40 years Dick lives after most everyone he knows has died

The Return: the immediate aftermath and healing from the trauma of having not-quite-actually lived a whole life only to wake up and find out it was all fake. nothing traumatizing about that whatsoever.

The Unintended Consequence: aka the twist I'd love to add and would hint to in the second part - finding out the simulation, through martian mind fuckery, pulled from the real world (and in many cases, from real minds). Dick meets a bunch of people he didn't think were real outside the confines of his simulated life. A bunch of rowdy, heroism-inclined teens across the years get to meet the sibling/friend/mentor figure they all dreamed up one night.

(actual idea snippets under the cut)

.

Dick Grayson is 14 and most of the world's heroes have died. He planned a suicide mission that left him the sole survivor of a doomed team he helped found. The invasion may have been stopped, but is this really the price he wanted to pay?

The first face he sees in the infirmary is Roy's, and he has to close his eyes and just breathe for a few minutes because for one painful moment he'd thought it was Wally. But this isn't the world where his best friend miraculously survived alongside him. This is the one where he got his best friend killed and didn't even give him the courtesy of following behind him. Behind them.

.

Dick Grayson is 27 and has lived longer without Bruce than with him. The invasion's anniversary is always a tough day for him, but that morning seems especially harrowing. He'll get shit for it later, but can't resist stepping out onto the balcony of the manor's master bedroom (Bruce's old bedroom) for a smoke -- his first since he'd promised to quit if Jason, just 15 then, did too.

"Bad habits tend to pile up," he'd said, a rueful quirk to his tired grin. He'd tapped the cigarette twice on the railing and added, lower, "and this one's especially nasty, huh."

He inhales, watches the sun creep across the horizon, and lets acrid smoke burn through his lungs for a long moment before blowing it out in a small cloud. His eyes water, but he doesn't cough. It tastes just as bad as it did the first time he smoked one, not even a year after the invasion and treading water as Robin proved insufficient.

There hadn't been enough heroes to go around then, and Dick had been trained by one of the best. It hadn't been fair, but it had been his plan that had ultimately stopped the invasion. His shoulders everyone's expectations fell on.

He takes another drag, then smudges the lit end against the rail he's leaned on when he hears a boot scuff purposefully against the roofing above him.

"Todd and Pennyworth will be upset with you."

He doesn't turn around. Damian doesn't jump down to join him.

.

Dick Grayson is 54 and wakes up in a room full of ghosts. He hears his long-dead father-figure tell his long-dead team about a simulation they weren't meant to win. A training exercise gone wrong and only half a day spent under their mentors' careful, if slightly panicked, supervision.

He looks at his hands, watching the way his gloves crease when he flexes them in and out of tight fists. He looks at his team, their eyes a little haunted but shoulders slumped with relief even as they grumble. Batman's heavy, gloved hand settles on his shoulder and the weight of it is a nauseating mix of foreign-familiar.

He opens his mouth. Closes it.

Tears prick his eyes behind his domino mask, and he tells himself the suffocating, acidic void building in his chest is just some leftover side effect of the ordeal and not the grief-guilt of outliving yet another family (no matter that they hadn't been real in the end).

.

Dick Grayson is 16-going-on-56 and well used to the coincidences piling up between his simulated life and the real thing. Some of it -- missions and villains he remembers cropping up -- he's marked for Bruce to review and sort as he pleases. Some -- security for the cave, team building anecdotes, and training regimens -- he's shared with the team. And some he keeps only for himself.

Tim is one of those. He knows it's not fair to the kid (so much smaller now than he ever was when Dick lived his simulated life), but he can't help being selfish just for this. Tim is the one kid he's sure he didn't make up, and if Dick's taken to babysitting the kid just to be near at least one member of the family he built for himself in the wake of the worst days of his life .... Well, anyone who says shit about it can happily stand in line to have their teeth kicked in.

Despite this, it still catches him off-guard when he sees a familiar face pop up in one of Bruce's reports.

Jason Todd, caught boosting tires off the batmobile, is nearly the same age now as he was when Dick met him. He stares at the words, but none of them really sink in beyond the kid's name and address. He's moving before he's even made the decision.

He's used to the world kicking him when he's down - lived it for 40 frustrating years. But he has Bruce again. And things with Tim have been so good. And he's always been selfish when it comes to family. If he could just see Jason. If he could just meet him. If he could talk to him.

If if if if if--

.

Inspirations:

Circles in Shattered Mirrors by InfinityIllusion

Fine (But Not Okay) by CharlotteDaBookworm

Verisimilitude by mutemelody

[synthwayve]

Bloodborne is so cool I wish blood was real

[gideonisms]

I want to write I want to make girls be weird about each other in MY word docs I want to have creative projects and goals againn :/

[shares-a-vest]

Eddie might just be the dumbest person Steve has ever met. He's seriously sitting beside him as they remain stationary in the Beemer outside Family Video, mid-argument with Dustin insisting Suzie (of all people) isn't real.

Jesus fucking Christ.

“I do so have a girlfriend!” Dustin argues, jumping forward from his seat and jostling Steve's headrest.

He attempts to swat him away, but the kid just scoots to the middle of the backseat. Despite the fidgeting, he's being surprisingly neutral about the accusation (meaning he isn’t screeching back insults). Anyway, Steve's pissed enough on his behalf. And also ever-so-slightly annoyed that he's in love with an idiot.

How has Dustin not forced Eddie to talk with her on the phone? Jeez, the number of times he's shoved the phone in Steve's face while he has been at the Hendersons while Claudia yells about call charges to Utah. And the sheer amount of time Dustin actually spends talking about Suzie surely makes it impossible for it to be an elaborate lie. The kid is smart. But not that smart.

“Eddie...” Steve finally musters, even though he stops there.

He pinches his nose, certain that mere exposure to this argument is going to permanently rot his brain. And everyone thinks he's a dumbass of the group.

He shakes his head and looks at the store. Squinting, he can see Keith arguing with Robin as they both flail about with VHSs in their hands. He wishes he was in there, refereeing their pretentious movie snobbery as they argue about boring black-and-white movies from a hundred years ago. That would be easy.

“Still don't think Suze is real, dude,” Eddie shrugs and cracks his knuckles, seemingly to punctuate his argument.

“So you think I'm as pathetic as Jan Brady?” Dustin seethes, his voice up-ticking at every word until he's doing that annoying shrill-talking that makes Steve's ears bleed. “Eventing George Fucking Glass out of thin air to save the embarrassment of being single?”

“Stop swearing, dude!” Steve chastises, holding out a frustrated hand in Dustin's direction in hopes of getting him to exercise some volume control. They are in the confines of a car for Christ's sake.

“That's it,” Dustin says, abruptly opening the car door as he gathers up his backpack. “We're going to Cerebro.”

He opens the passenger door and begins tugging on Eddie's sleeve, eliciting incoherent grumbles.

“Cerebro, what? No! Just call her!” Steve yells across his boyfriend, who just yanks his sleeve back from kid's grip.

“No!” Dustin insists, going for Eddie's wrist now.

“What the fuck is Cerebro?” Eddie scoffs, extending an arm to block their young friend from laying another hand on him. “What, are you secretly Professor X, or something?”

The shit-eating smirk Eddie makes is enough for Steve to remove his keys from the ignition and exit the car, resigning himself to walking all the way to fucking Cerebro because Eddie has gone from being a total dumbass to a full-blown jerk in one fell swoop. He waves his hand to beckon Eddie out of the car, fully intending on leaving it parked outside Family Video (which will probably draw questions from Robin, who’ll act like Steve’s missing). But putting his boyfriend in his place is the priority right now.

“Where are we going?” Eddie asks, confused but never the less stepping out of the Beemer and slamming the door.

“Highest point in Hawkins,” Steve grumbles. “Come on pea-brain.”

“You mean Weathertop? That’s halfway across town from here!” Eddie complains as they both begin to follow along as Dustin rushes off far ahead of them.

Before Steve knows it, they are on their way up the hill towards Cerebro, the highest and clearest point in Hawkins. They are all breathless, both unprepared for the walk and exhausted with sheer annoyance at each other after the near-wordless trek, speaking only to bicker about the quickest route to Weathertop.

“Steve?” Eddie says, sickly sweet as he turns around and extends theatrically limp arms with a pout. “Can you carry me?”

Dustin is far enough away to not hear them, already at the top of hill examining his communication device.

“Nope,” Steve replies, smacking his lips at the ‘P’ and placing his hands on his hips. 

The gesture seems to make Eddie chuckle, so he shoots him a glare that promptly shuts him up as he walks straight past him, intentionally bumping into him on the way.

“Stevie,” Eddie repeats, this time cooing, somehow sounding both flirtatious and apologetic.

“I’m annoyed with you,” he shoots back and slows his pace.

He stops, folds his arms and turns to Eddie who looks like a puppy that just got kicked. But it's still likely a part of Eddie's sucking-up-without-actually-apologising routine. Steve narrows his eyes and pouts. That does the trick. Eddie creeps forward, looks around presumably to make sure Dustin isn't watching and snakes an arm around his middle.

“I didn’t think it would go this far!” he laughs, brushing a hand through Steve's hair. “Sorry I ruined our date night, sugarplum.”

“You hurt his feelings,” he retorts, suppressing a satisfied hum at the feeling of Eddie's hand in his hair.

“Serves him right for being an annoying twerp,” Eddie offers, raising an eyebrow. “Besides, can he stop asking me if I have a girlfriend! Of course, I do!”

He thrusts his hips forward but Steve recoils (even if he feels his cheeks burn).

“Not funny, dude.”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to dramatically pout. He’s even worse than Steve suspects he looks. He steps back and begins twisting his hair up in a makeshift ponytail with his hand, puffing out a breath. Steve wordlessly reaches into his back pocket and produces the communal scrunchie - a forest green one that satisfies Max, El, Robin and Eddie whenever necessary. Eddie takes it and chews at his bottom lip as he ties his hair up, avoiding eye contact.

He always looks so pretty with his hair up. Steve shakes his head and continues up the hill.

“Hey, Henderson,” Eddie calls, staggering up the last of the incline. He pats Dustin on the shoulder. “Dude, I’m sorry.”

Dustin looks between them for a moment. His eyes narrow before he snaps back to the task at hand.

“Nope. Steve told you to apologise, I can tell.”

“Jesus Christ!” Steve laments, slumping down onto the grass and hanging his head in his hands.

Forget a date night. This stupidity is just going to ping-pong back and forward until they wither away on Weathertop and Robin will have to send out a recovery operation. There’s a thud and he turns to find Dustin sitting in defeat on the ground, radio in his hand.

“It isn’t working,” he says, more confused than disappointed.

Steve looks up at Eddie and they have a silent back and forward before Eddie rolls his eyes and couches down.

“I’m sorry, Dustin,” he says earnestly.

Dustin shrugs.

“I just wanted you to talk to Suzie.”

“We can go to my house and you can call her,” Steve suggests, chastising himself for not offering a solution that didn’t involve walking halfway across town sooner.

“Don’t worry about it. You two can go on your date, or whatever,” Dustin says nonchalantly as he lowers his contraption to the ground.

Eddie makes some kind of incoherent gargle of words before standing up and turning away.

“What?” Steve shrieks, digging his fingers into the grass.

Their young friend sighs as he looks out over their surroundings. The sun is setting now.

“I know the two of you are dating," Dustin explains as if it's something they should know. “Have for months actually.”

He stands and begins separating pieces of Cerebro according to size like he hasn't just delivered an earth-shattering revelation.

“Shit,” is all Eddie says, continuing to be so very helpful. He twists at a loose strand of hair with one hand and reaches for a cigarette with the other.

“You two aren’t subtle at all. Pretty gross and obvious, really,” Dustin chuckles before his face drops. “I mean, it isn’t gross that you are two dudes just… Lovey-dovey gross stuff.”

Steve barks a laugh. He’s one to talk.

“You could have told me!” he continues, sounding a little hurt. “Oh and everybody else knows too.”

“What!” Steve yells and Dustin practically falls to the ground in a fit of laughs.

Eddie starts giggling and Steve looks up. They just shrug at each other, accepting their fate of being annoyed to death by the kids. When he recovers, Dustin sits upright, wiping tears from his eyes as he continues pulling the broken Cerebro apart.

“I must warn you,” he begins, shoving the smaller pieces into his backpack. “The guys have been taking bets about when you two got together and who will crack and blab about it first. Now, I didn’t participate, of course.”

He places a hand on his heart and gives them that condescending look he gets when he is, one hundred percent, in on the stupid shenanigans with the rest of the Loser Squad. He hums and looks around, gradually raising his eyebrows, his cap tipping upwards as he smirks.

“Y’know, this would be a romantic spot…” he starts.

Steve shakes his head, “Nope, no, no, no! Absolutely not.”

He waves his hands around to emphasise his point, but it is lost on Dustin, who only laughs. Great, the little shit wasn’t actually fessing up to show his support, it was merely a means to opening another dimension of teasing. And he wasn't about to enter into receiving relationship advice from the kid either.

He looks to Eddie for some kind of assistance, only to find his (now not-so-secret) boyfriend smiling and twirling a strand of hair across his face, barely shielding his too-cute dimples. Steve can’t help but feel giddy at the idea of coming back here for a quiet picnic.

Dustin groans and promptly shoves the broken-up aerial in Steve’s lap making him jump.

“So, you're okay with me dating Mom?” Eddie says, a wolfish smile creeping across his face.

Okay, the bitchiness and malfunctioning is over. Back to utter stupidity.

“Please! Do not say that!” Dustin shrieks, pinching his nose.

Eddie laughs maniacally in the direction of the sunny heavens for far too long. Steve playfully slaps him on the arm and points to his assigned pile of parts. He needs to help. Especially if he was still wanting to go on the date he had to make up for mildly ruining.

As they make their way back down the hill with Dustin’s invention split between Eddie and Steve, he starts on about what might be wrong with Cerebro. Steve isn’t a scientist by any stretch, but he’s sure it is broken from being left out here during an almost-apocalypse. Eddie juggles around the items in his hands enough to link arms with Steve, leaning in close.

“Wanna come back here for a moonlight picnic?” he offers in a flirtatious version of his Dungeons and Dorks voice that makes Steve shiver.

“M’kay,” he smiles back, cheeks flushing as he manoeuvres to hold his hand.

“Ew!” Dustin chimes, scrunching up his nose for just a moment before he smiles and runs for it down the embankment. “On second thought, I shouldn’t have said anything!”

[xxplastic-cubexx]

sorry if you've already mentioned but what (re?)ignited your love of comics/x-men/cherik? curious because there are so many different adaptations of them

i think im gonna speak for a few (or a lot of) people when i say that TL;DR the wolverine x deadpool movie that came out this summer is what pulled me back into comics and i COULD leave it there but i will go into excruciating and unnecessary detail instead because i love an origin story and i love oversharing.

under the cut tho because im nice sometimes (there's also wxdp doodles in here. if you want to see that)

ironically (and probably commonly), growing up i was more of an avengers kid. Kinda. Loosely <- binge watched the cartoons and movies and read copious amounts of comics and fics and i am hoarding fanart in my old dresser as we speak ok 'loosely' is a modest lie.

embarrassingly i remember getting into discus cause of captain america LMAO so yeah needless to say i was a Humble Fan- me joining my school's comic class/club didnt help either (shoutout to my teach from that she was the realest one out there for. A Multitude of reasons). she definitely is was inspires me to even draw still and make comics and i often think bout the tips i learned from her class tbh she was great

back to the movies t and comics tho, i got into em because my brother would offer to take me and that's how we'd hang out (i rarely saw movies in theaters and i even more rarely went anywhere as a teenager. still kinda like that today tbh ooops) and yk. it just snowballed after that.

my brother and i have always liked comics- he just more than me for a while (though he still very much loves comics and As We Know From My Posts we still talk about them whenever i see him To An Exhausting Degree)

durin then i was really into stony and i have a few surviving doodles i made but those are between me and god. and anyone who asks tbh LOL

'snap can you make this related to x-men again this is long' ok so fast forward to This Summer again I Still Don't Really See Movies but my brother offered to take me and this was the first time i'd actually seen an x-men movie in full

as a kid i only remember seeing the 'perfection' scene between erik and raven in first class while i was channel surfing. pretty sure i changed the channel after seeing mystique naked cause i was scared my parents would get mad at me if they caught me watching it LOL

BUT MOVING ON As A Kid i think it's also natural you'll sometimes watch 92 if it's on And I Did though evidently it didn't stick too hard (i do remember really liking beast and gambit though.... still do really): my knowledge of x-men was. INCREDIBLY sparse. like diabolically so so i didnt have too much expectations (aside from the fact i vaguely liked deadpool beforehand).

tbh i dont know why my bro never took me to see any of the x-men movies. it's not like he doesn't Also like x-men (90% sure nightcrawler's his favorite but my brother will be caught dead saying he has absolute favorites like that)- he owns a bitch load of deadpool comics/omnibus sets too (of which ive read over the years and reread this year) but Shrug moving on

Much Like Most Of The Internet i fell down the rabbit hole that way. i have some doodles i made a couple days after seeing WxDP that i now have an excuse to throw at all of you Look And Perceive

and so. As I Do. i got curious and told myself i'd binge watch all the x-men movies the week before i went back to school And Then I Did ft. My Brother Sometimes and then i said i'd binge watch all of '92 and And I Did That ft. My Brother Sometimes But Less So and now we're here. currently watching Evolution...

once i got to school i realized i lived near a comic shop and started getting into the comics that way (the first ones i got since going down this rabbit hole was Magneto Was Right!, The Resurrection of Magneto, and The Trial of Magneto. if you were curious !!!!! clearly i didnt care too much about context i just needed to see My Guy jelvejlkvj i have no regrets and Evidently ive read more since)

i'm pretty sure what dragged me into cherik specifically was the fact i saw a clip of The Famous ending to 92 where erik's aghast at the notion jean even has to question his love for charles. i think that was what officially had me refocus my lens on them: not a single poolverine thought after that LOL (all the cherik posting i saw on twitter definitely helped too but that was the nail in the coffin for any other interests i had: i was locked into cherik and x-men in general now)

that clip specifically, i was surprised at the fact they- frequently even- have the x-men franchise say erik loves charles and vice versa so bluntly. even if it's not meant to be romantic, i fear im just a fan of how casually the word's thrown around with them two and i got tender bout it all. Then Yk. i just live for the drama. the hilarity even. the sincerity .... they make me sick if i think of them too long so im gonna end it here

before i go tho ironically enough, the first x-men issue i owned was This one (story a this is that while stuck in some wacko dimension charles accidentally gets himself trapped in logan's mind while utilizing his astral projection. if you were curious). pretty sure i got it for free with another comic set i got years ago since our old comic shop loved to do that, but it's poetic aint it. maybe ill doodle something referencing it..

i should probably look into finishing this arc someday im Dummy curious to even know how it started and how it ends.....

[blaithnne]

The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna Are not very pure or true.

Or, Chapter 12 of Lauren’s backstory is here.

YEAG I made a post abt this elsewhere but…lil hiatus! Dk when I’ll be back but, I will be lol! Might reformat how I make these posts as well whilst I’m at it… we’ll see…..

[medinaquirin]

I hate letting shitty people take up real estate in my brain, but sometimes the bastards refuse to leave.

[essektheylyss]

I have finally hit 30k on my current book draft and this section is roughly outlined to my liking and I have worked out a number of later plot kinks in the process and truly, if I can get through this and the next section before the New Year, I might actually stand a chance of finishing this thing with some efficiency. And thank FUCK.

[wereh0gz]

Is my discomfort with my boobs gender dysphoria, body dysmorphia, or just a general discomfort with the sensations of having a human body that comes with possible neurodivergency

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

The Mafia Princess Part VIII: The Conversation

Mafia Princess Masterpost

AO3 Link

Winning Result/Previous Chapter: Ask if Desi can drop her off at a McDonald’s so she can get food.

Reminder: The poll for the next chapter will be under the read more at the bottom of the post!

—

“I want to go to McDonalds.” Elsa hadn’t even realized she had voiced her semi-hysterical thought until Desi was slowly raising his eyebrows, and, well. At least he had proven by this point that he wasn’t going to shoot her for saying something dumb. 

Considering that, Elsa decided to do what she had done since the moment she knew she was on her own in a world that wasn’t kind. She doubled down. 

“There’s one between this place and the school, if I’m remembering all the streets right, so since you were offering anyways, you can just… drop me off there, instead.” Elsa made sure to cross her arms and take a strong stance, not sure if that made her seem more serious or less. 

She half-expected some dramatic stare-off or for Desi to say something that sounded like some kind of riddle. Instead, all she got was a simple, “Alright.” He then headed back towards the dramatic, fancy mafia car like it was just that simple. 

Unable to help herself, and because the terrifying man with the intimidating voice who was named ‘Scotty’ of all things didn’t seem like he was really listening, Elsa quickly caught up to him to ask, “That’s it? No berating me for my choices, or telling me that as a foster kid I obviously don’t have the money to spend on things like fast food- Not even a joke about how I’m using the mafia as a taxi service?”

“Well, to be fair to your last point, I often use them as a taxi service myself.” Okay, but he was the boss of them. Elsa wasn’t sure that really counted. “As for your first point, why would I? There’s nothing for me to gain by commenting on your behavior except for you to be even more difficult.” 

“Well… Yeah.” Desi slid into the car as Scotty opened the door for him, because yeah, of course. Elsa then, of course, scurried inside the car when Scotty kept holding the door open and giving her a look to hurry her ass up. Probably. She would assume that was what the look meant. “Okay, but what about the second point?” 

“How you spend what funds belong to you is your choice, even in difficult times. Although I suppose, at most, I could always caution you to have a stash tucked away in case of emergencies?” 

“That? That sounded really mafia-like,” Elsa pointed out, half-sure she heard the driver up front laugh. His name had been… Ad-something? “Just to point that out. And make sure you know.” 

Desi, at least, gave one of those little huffs of laughter that assured Elsa she wasn’t about to get in trouble or anything. Plus, it was fun to obviously be on the boss’ good side and have his lackeys be annoyed by her humor and unable to do anything except roll their eyes. (Was Elsa a little upset still over how ‘Scotty’ sounded like he wanted to shoot her when she first picked up Desi’s phone? Hm… Probably not.) 

“Aidano, the closest McDonalds, if you could.” Aidano! That had been the driver’s name! Since Elsa had taken the fancy seat that faced away from the driver, she had to do some twisting and turning to get a glimpse of his face. From what she could see, he looked amused, but didn’t even question it. “Seatbelt.” 

“Huh?” Turning back around, Elsa blinked at seeing Desi was staring at her- Oh. Right. Seatbelt. “Good job. That sounded less like a mafia thing to say.” 

“Oh, well as long as I’m doing a good job to hide it,” Desi drawled in the most dry tone she had ever heard an adult speak in. It was great. Obviously he wasn’t around kids a lot, which meant there was a good chance she could get him to just treat her like a normal human being once she got him past the whole ‘I’m a twelve-year-old girl and obviously need help’ thing he seemed to have going on. 

Taking a moment to finally put her sketchbook back into her bag, Elsa paused as she looked down at the business card she noticed she was still holding. “So… I just come back here, make sure the jacket fits, and that’s… it? I just leave after that?” 

“That’s it,” Desi said, Elsa looking from the card to him, a little surprised that she wasn't surprised with how genuine he sounded. She guessed he had been pretty upfront about everything ever since she had met him, even confirming that he was in the mafia and everything. 

“Huh.” Tucking the card away into her sketchbook, Elsa zipped up her bag, set it between her legs, and then looked back up. If this was her last time seeing an actual mafia boss — and one that wouldn’t even shoot her — then she might as well get some questions answered. “I don’t have a phone and getting to the library sucks some days, so what’s the actual difference between the mob and the mafia?” 

She heard what was definitely a laugh from Aidano and what might have been a startled grunt from Scotty, but Desi didn’t even look caught off-guard. She’d have to work on it. “I mentioned earlier that it was different races, primarily. Since I doubt you’re here for a history lesson, the quickest summary I’ll give you is that the Irish and Irish immigrants founded and control the mob while the mafia is run by those of Italian descent.” 

“Huh.” Not something she probably would have learned in school, but kind of cool to know. “So do you guys really pay off the police? Like in Gotham?” At her wonderful, thoughtful question, Scotty moved his hand so he was rubbing at his eyes and covering his face like he had a headache. Elsa was a little proud of that fact. 

Desi, proving that he was an adult that was actually kind of cool, asked, “The comics, the cartoon, or the show?” She didn’t even care if it was a front and he didn’t know any of it, it still made her opinion of him rise just a little. 

“My first thought was like the cartoon, but if it is true, I kind of pictured it’d be something more like the actual show.” She needed to try and watch more of it. Her last foster home had flipped when they had seen her watching it since she was ‘too young.’ “So, like, do you pay them off? Threaten them? Secretly have your own men infiltrated within their ranks?” 

“Sadly, I’ll have to disappoint and say none of those,” Desi chuckled — a real laugh! — and shook his head. “While we do have a relationship with the police, it can best be summed up as… tense.” 

“Ah. So you’re too good to get caught and when you do you just pay them off,” Elsa nodded, deciding that she probably didn’t want to know any more details like what they actually did as a mafia and all that. Maybe if she met them again. “Okay, so, do you have to be Italian to be part of the mafia? Or just white?”

“Well, you used to have to be full Italian on both sides of your parents.” Desi answered her like he was taking her seriously and it was honestly kind of nice. “Back around 2000, though, it changed so you only needed to be half as long as that half was on your father’s side and not your mother’s.” 

“Sounds patriarchal.” Elsa didn’t get to continue on what she had no doubt would have been a great conversation on feminism and its place in the mafia, but instead she was interrupted by Aidano and the car coming to a stop. 

“Should I remain parked, sir, or would you rather we go through the drive-through?” Hm. Elsa wasn’t sure if that was a sense of humor or not. 

Desi, instead of answering, looked at her. Elsa had a feeling she was about to be given another choice that felt like it wasn’t all that much of a choice. “Would you rather us drop you off like you wanted earlier? Or if you’d like, we can grab you something and then drop you off at your home or school.” 

Well. Nice to see she had been right.

[jenasu]

It's 5am indulgent trainrot hours, do not perceive me

[juergenklopp]

Just going back and forth, and I threw my stuff back to the dugout. He told me to not do that. I told him I can throw my stuff back to the dugout if I want, and he threw me out. I’ve said a lot worse and not gotten ejected, but I guess he thought that was the line.