#do a bunch of charity efforts

[jukeboxsweethearttt]

for older sugar daddy rafe and reader would you write their first argument or something like that

Book of Love

Oldersugardaddyboyfriend!Rafe Cameron x Fem Reader

cw:angst:( but has a fluffy ending, talks of pregnancy, Rafe’s oldest daughter Claire is older than you, Victoria is the same age as you and Hannah is younger than you. no use of y/n I think

inspired by @starfxkr sugar daddy Rafe ofc

The sprawling lawn of Rafe’s Hamptons estate basked in the glow of the setting sun, creating a picturesque scene that starkly contrasted with the storm brewing inside.

The dining room, typically a place of warmth and laughter, was now tense with an unfamiliar strain. You sat at the end of the long, gleaming table, your hands clasped tightly in your lap. Rafe stood across from you, his stance rigid and his eyes filled with frustration.

His three daughters, Claire , Victoria, and Hannah, watched the scene unfold with a mix of concern and unease.

This was the first serious argument you and Rafe had ever had. It had started over the charity gala—a high-profile event you had been working on tirelessly.

“Rafe, I just want to make this event something special, something that showcases what we can achieve together,” you said, your voice trembling slightly.

Rafe, his expression hard, replied, “This isn’t about showcasing us, Bunny. This is about making strategic decisions. You need to understand the stakes involved.”

Claire, the eldest, shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She shared a look with her sisters, Victoria, and Hannah, the youngest of the bunch.

Claire finally spoke up, her tone gentle yet firm. “Dad, she’s trying to help. She’s put a lot of effort into this.”

Rafe’s eyes softened momentarily as he looked at his daughter, but his frustration remained palpable. “I know, Claire, but this is more complicated than just putting in effort. Experience matters here.”

You felt a lump form in your throat. “Rafe, I’m not just some inexperienced kid. I’m trying to contribute, to be a part of this.”

Rafe’s gaze turned steely. “You are young and inexperienced. You don’t get how high the stakes are. This isn’t some game.”

Your heart sank at his words. Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to hold back your emotions.

“I can’t believe you see me that way,” you whispered, standing up abruptly. “I thought we were in this together.”

Victoria stood, her face a mix of anger and disappointment. “Dad, you’re being unfair. She’s doing her best.”

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, his frustration boiling over. “Life isn’t fair, Victoria. I’m trying to protect her from making mistakes that could cost us.”

You couldn’t bear it any longer. Tears streaming down your face, you rushed out of the room, the sound of the door slamming echoing through the house.

Claire glanced at her father, shaking her head in disappointment before following you outside.

Rafe stood there, his anger giving way to a heavy silence. Hannah finally spoke up, her voice quiet but firm. “Dad, you really hurt her.”

Outside, Claire found you sitting on a garden bench, your shoulders shaking with sobs. She sat down next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Hey, it’s okay. He didn’t mean it he’s just stressed,” she said softly.

You wiped at your tears, shaking your head. “It’s not okay, Claire. He thinks I’m just some naive child.”

Claire sighed, her heart aching for you. “He’s scared, that’s all. He doesn’t know how to handle this.”

You took a deep, shuddering breath. “I can’t handle all of this stress. There’s something I need to tell you,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.

She looked at you, concern etched on her face. “What is it?”

You met her gaze, your eyes filled with a mix of fear and hope. “I’m pregnant. I just found out a few days ago.”

Claire’s eyes widened in surprise she knows you’ve wanted children of your own but was shocked at the news considering her dad’s age.

Deep down she’s kind of indifferent but pushes those feelings to the side quickly as you started to cry again from her silence.

She quickly pulled you into a tight hug. “Oh my God, that’s news. Have you told him yet?”

You shook your head. “No, I was waiting for the right moment. But now... I don’t know if there ever will be one.”

She pulled back, holding your shoulders. “You need to tell him. It might be exactly what he needs to hear.”

Back inside, Rafe was pacing the living room, his frustration giving way to a deep sense of guilt. Victoria and Hannah watched him, their expressions stern.

“Dad, don’t you think you were a bit harsh?” Victoria asked, her voice steady but reproachful. “She’s part of our family.”

Rafe stopped, his shoulders slumping. “I know, I just... I don’t know how to handle this.”

“You handle it by respecting her,” Hannah said softly. “She’s not a child, Dad. She’s your partner.”

Just then, Claire walked back in with you, your face still streaked with tears but your resolve stronger. Rafe looked up, his heart aching at the sight of you so upset.

“I’m sorry,” Rafe began, but you held up a hand to stop him.

“Before you say anything, there’s something I need to tell you,” you said, your voice steady. “I’m pregnant, Rafe.”

The room fell silent, Rafe’s eyes widening in shock. He took a step towards you, his expression softening. “You’re... you’re pregnant?”

You nodded, tears spilling over once more. “I found out a few days ago. I wanted to tell you in a special way, but...”

Rafe closed the distance between you, pulling you into his arms. “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m just... scared. Scared of not being good enough.”

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with love and determination. “We’re in this together, Rafe. We can make it work, but you have to trust me. Trust us.”

Rafe nodded, his eyes brimming with tears. “I promise. I’ll do better. I’ll trust you, and I’ll be there for you and our baby.”

Claire, Victoria, and Hannah watched the exchange, their expressions softening with relief but making a mental note to discuss this sudden pregnancy announcement later.

The tension in the room began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of hope and renewed commitment.

Later that evening, you found yourself in the kitchen, helping Victoria prepare dinner.

Victoria glanced over at you, offering a small smile. “I’m so happy that you stood up to him,” she said softly. “Dad needed a wake-up call.”

You returned her smile, feeling a warm sense of acceptance. “Thanks, Victoria. It means a lot that you understand.”

Meanwhile, in the living room, Rafe sat with Claire and Hannah. Claire leaned forward, her expression serious but kind.

“Dad, she’s good for you. We see how happy she makes you, but you have to let her grow up. She’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

Rafe nodded, his eyes thoughtful. “I know, Claire. I just… I’ve spent so much time trying to protect everyone that sometimes I forget to let go. I’ll work on it.”

Hannah, who had been quiet until now, chimed in. “We all want the best for you, Dad. And for her. Just remember, she chose to be with you because she loves you, not because she needs a protector.”

Their words resonated with Rafe, who realized just how much he had to learn about balancing his protective instincts with respecting your independence.

He stood up, feeling a mixture of gratitude and determination. “You’re right. All of you. I’m lucky to have you four looking out for me.”

Back in the kitchen, Victoria was dishing up the last of the pasta when Rafe entered. He walked over to you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“I’ve been talking with the girls,” he said, his voice soft and earnest. “And they’ve made me see things more clearly. I need to let you live your life, make your own choices. I’m so proud of you for standing up to me.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with love and relief. “Thank you, Rafe. That means a lot to me.”

Dinner was a warm, lively affair. The five of you sat around the table, sharing stories and laughter. The earlier argument seemed like a distant memory, replaced by a stronger sense of family and mutual respect.

Claire and Victoria teased Hannah about her latest crush, while Rafe kept his hand on yours under the table, a silent promise of his commitment to change.

As the evening wore on, you found yourself sitting on the balcony with Rafe, the moon twinkling above. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close.

“You know, Bunny, I’ve never felt this way before. You’ve brought so much joy into my life.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling content and secure. “And you’ve given me a life I never dreamed possible, Rafe. I’m so grateful for you.”

Rafe tilted your chin up, looking deeply into your eyes. “I promise to always support you, to let you be your own person. We’re partners in this, equal partners.”

You kissed him softly, the love between you palpable. “Thank you, Daddy. That’s all I ever wanted.”

As you both sat there, you felt a deep sense of peace. The argument had brought you closer, teaching you both valuable lessons about trust and love. And as Rafe held you close, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

The next morning, Rafe surprised you with breakfast in bed, a gesture that made your heart flutter. He sat beside you, watching you eat with a content smile.

“I thought we could spend the day together, just the two of us. How does that sound, Princess?”

You grinned, feeling the excitement bubble up inside you.

[mr-celestial-writings]

General Relationship Headcannons (Bats pt 1)

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Richard "Dick" Grayson, Jason Todd, Timothy "Tim" Drake

Summary: How do I think these characters would behave in a relationship. How I think you two would meet, their love languages, their first dates. You know the rest.

Gender Neutral Reader

DC Masterlist!

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Bruce Wayne:

You two met at a Charity Fundraiser. He literally bumped into you. It was instinct to check you out, his analytical eyes scanned you. But it was perfectly hidden with his Playboy Brucie Persona.

He immediately went to charm your socks off. You may not have any vital information, but hey, at least you'd be a good lay.

He was very, very surprised when you turned him down. You sited not being interested in him as the reason.

Well, now he's just offended.

After that Night, Bruce began stalking seeking you out more. He learned everything he could about you. He had a point to prove, alright? He totally didn't find you attractive.

The more he spent time with you, the more he learned about you from you... The more Bruce looked forward to spending time with you.

Bruce found that he fell hard and fast for you. You were just... amazing! You were like a warm blanket on a cold winter's day. You were like the few rays of sunshine that Gotham gets a year...

Bruce eventually dropped the Brucie act around you, and he was surprised when you responded positively to Bruce just... being himself.

Bruce asked you out not too soon after that. He went all out on your first date. Candles, the most expensive food, a band. Bruce did not hold back.

You went along with it, but after words you told Bruce that you were okay with low effort, laid back dates. He felt like a bit of an idiot.

Bruce's Love languages would be Acts of Service and Quality Time. He loves doing things and spending time with you.

Richard "Dick" Grayson:

Haley brought you two together. The Puppy had gotten off her leash, and run straight into you. Dick apologized so much as he collected Haley from your arms.

Dick helped you off the ground, for a 3 legged puppy, Haley had a lot of power. He introduced himself, and offered to get you something to eat an an apology.

You two hit it off right away, though! Dick was funny and charming, and you bounced off of him easily.

What was supposed to be an apology hot dog ended up in a new friend and an exchange of numbers.

Hang outs became daily events. Dick would coo over Haley with you and buy you food. You were really fun to talk to!

Some months later, Dick decided to shoot his shot and ask you out. You were amazing, and just so fun to me around!

Your first Date would be at a cafe. Dick wanted to Impress you, but he didn't want to make you uncomfortable with some massive, grand gesture. Who was he, Bruce?

Dick's love languages would be Quality Time and Physical Touch. He loves being around you and touching you. He also gives the best cuddles. It's a win-win.

Jason Todd:

Jason encountered into you at the Iceberg Lounge. He was just doing his usual rounds, making sure everybody was happy, along with scrapping together any information he could.

He noticed that you were uncomfortable, being hit on by a bunch of goons. Something told him he'd regret it, but he swooped in. He gently place his hand on you hip, it was sold you could easily escape if needed. With a few sweet words and nicknames, Jason chased the guy off.

He then properly introduced himself. You two got to talking, and Jason found that he... really liked talking to you.

Your friendship blossomed, and a year later Jason was hit with the fact he had a crush on you. Thank you Roy, for that.

He took his chance, and decided to ask you out. He was super relieved when you said yes.

This dork brought you to a bookstore for the first date. After browsing around he then brought you to a decent restaurant. It was all worth it to see you happy.

Jason's love languages would be Quality time and Words of Affirmation. He doesn't feel like he deserves you, reassure him that he does.

Timothy "Tim" Drake:

220k, strangers to lovers, slow burn, coffee shop AU- Sorry. You are a barista at his favorite cafe. You were the one who usually took and made his coffee.

He once asked you why you worked such unholy hours, since you were always in when he patrolled. You looked him dead in the eyes and said that college wasn't going to pay for itself, and that sleep was for the weak.

That's when he decided to look into you. He wanted to study you and everything about you. You were just amazing.

Bruce stopped that in it's tracks and forced Tim to talk to you like a normal person. No stalking and unhealthy relationships on Bruce's watch.

He was terrified as he talked to you. He led the conversation a best he could. The more he talked to you, the more relaxed he was.

You two got along very well! Tim was surprised about how well you two got along. You two shared a lot of interests. Tim felt... seen.

It took a couple months for Tim to work up the guts to ask you out. He was so excited when you said yes.

He brought you to the Observatory. He knew no villains would attack, and it was quiet. He bought you so much from the gift shop.

Tim's love languages are Gift Giving and Words of Affirmation. He has a lot of trouble with his self worth. Love on him, assure him that he is more than his role as a CEO or Red Robin.

================================================

a/n: I split this up, like, a lot. It was going to be a massive post with all the male characters I write for. Then I was going to do the same thing for the fem characters I write for.

But that was very fucking overwhelming. So I decided to split it up into the factions I write for. So, expect A Few of these types of posts lol.

Also Happy American Thanksgiving!

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 10] Late Nights

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Satoru’s behavioral change is something that you never really expected. It seems that he’s warming up once again, even though you’re not giving him the attention he desires. He wants you to be the sweet and loving woman that you were when you were in a relationship, but you aren’t that woman. But it’s fine with him, he’s still warming up and treating you like an actual human being.

The bar is low, but you don’t really expect much from spoiled little Satoru. 

For some reason, you’re not liking this change though. You prefer him as the cold and mean boss that would snap and berate you due to a minor mistake. Maybe it’s because he’s molding and reminding you of the man that you used to love and you don’t want to see traces of the past relationship. Ren is the only reminder you need, and the best reminder because he reminds you how Satoru left you without an explanation.

You hate how he suddenly drops the mean act and is sweet; professional but still sweet. He tries to make an effort by asking how you’re doing, asking you to take breaks during work hours so you don’t tire yourself out so quickly (knowing that sometimes you have to run some errands for his mom), and whenever he orders food he asks if you want anything. You wonder what his mom said to him especially when you remember how he broke down and hugged you out of nowhere. She definitely said something to him.

“Have you started sending out the invitations?” Satoru asks, and you hum in response. Even though he knows you’re busy, sometimes you can’t get out of the task of working late nights. There’s so much to do in one day sometimes, and it’s especially busy with an upcoming charity event. It’s an event that his father would host each year but it consequently stopped when his mother got a hold of the company. Since Satoru is officially the president of the company, he’s honoring his father by bringing back the event– Additionally, it brings great publicity to the company, but that’s just an added bonus.

“Around one hundred people have said yes, a handful declined, and we still have a lot of people that haven’t opened it or are just thinking about it.” You inform him. 

“Have the Zenins said anything? Any of them?” He’s curious to know their response, and you try to recall. You remember the Zenin name coming up a lot while growing up, you never really got to understand the relationship between that family and the Gojos. They’re in constant competition yet they still invite each other to big events.

“Yeah… They declined.” You answer when you remember. He feels relieved to know that. They’re the last group of people he wants to see… A bunch of complicated snobby pieces of shit. He quite literally doesn’t understand why his father insisted on inviting them to every major event. He remembers Naoya, mainly because they went to school together, and that boy was unbearable. Satoru was lucky that he was a year younger. “I remember one of the Zenins–”

You can’t quite remember his name, and you try to remember the name. It’s on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t quite get it. Until Satoru speaks up, “Naoya.”

“Yeah! He asked me out when I was like sixteen. Really awkward… He told me that I’d never amount to nothing and it’d be weird to see him and show him that he was right.” You share, and Satoru finds himself surprised at the information that you share. How has he never heard of that? 

“Good thing that you rejected him. Suguru and I would’ve never allowed that relationship to happen anyway.” He responds, and you raise your brows. It’s weird why he’s bringing it up, but you’re more curious as to why Suguru of all people wouldn’t allow that to happen. You understand why Satoru would’ve been upset– But not Suguru. You chew on the inside of your cheek anxiously, wondering if you should ask the question that comes up in your mind.  In the end you ask,

“Why wouldn't Suguru have allowed that relationship to happen?” And Satoru isn’t sure how to respond. He isn’t sure whether to dismiss the question and get back to work, or to answer honestly. Satoru’s eyes shift back to his computer before he says anything.

“He used to have a crush on you back then.” He clears his throat, grabbing his water and taking a sip of it. You find yourself a bit taken back, a stupid smirk on your lips and it pisses him off. You shift in your seat, adjusting yourself so your back is straight.

“Suguru had a crush on me?” You sound so fucking proud of it, and it takes everything in Satoru to remain his composure. You repeat the question, sounding even more proud than the last time. 

“Yeah, he did.” Satoru says through gritted teeth. You’re way too ecstatic to even care about how he talks. His hands form into fists and he tries to hide them from you. “Why does it matter anyway? We ended up dating.”

“I’m just wondering… We all wonder how life would’ve turned out differently if we had made different decisions.” You answer, and he scoffs. When his hands are visible again, your eyes fall on your wedding band. “It doesn’t matter anyway, we’re here to work.”

“You’re right.” He nods his head in response. He focuses on what you have to do before you go back home. He’s sure you’re in a rush to go back home to your stupid cat.

“Plus, you’re married to someone else. It doesn’t matter if I had chosen to date him.” 

He bites down on his lip. He guesses you’re right. He’s not allowed to get upset. After all, he did leave you without an explanation. Maybe he should’ve let Suguru get with you. 

“Mommy!” Ren yells, the biggest smile on his face when he sees you. You always welcome him with open arms, picking him up from the floor and filling his little face with kisses. Even though you’re exhausted by the time you get home, you always manage to find energy to spend some quality time with him.

As you pay attention to him, brushing his hair out of his face with your fingers, the nanny collects her stuff and says her goodbyes before leaving. It’s your daily routine. While you greet him, she leaves without missing a beat. “Are you hungry, Ren?”

“No.” He answers, and while he says that, your stomach growls. Satoru offered to buy food but you rejected the offer since you wanted to leave as soon as you could. Ren, being the honest little boy that he is, points it out, “Sounds like you’re hungry, mommy.”

“I am. I’m gonna order something.” You say, definitely too tired to cook something up. You smile at him, tilting your head to the side, “Do you have any ideas?”

“Pizza.” He doesn’t waste a second, and you chuckle. You figured. You kiss the top of his head and you put him down on the floor before reaching into your purse to grab your phone. You find a couple of messages on your phone from different people. Mrs. Gojo telling you that you need to talk, a similar message from Shoko, and then Suguru checking up on you.

First thing’s first, you order your food delivery before you send a message to Suguru. You then call Mrs. Gojo, and within the first ring, she picks up the phone. She doesn’t bother greeting you before saying, “What’s up with Satoru?”

“I have no idea. I’m his secretary, not his babysitter nor his mother.” You respond, too tired to care about the way you speak to her. “You should know.”

“I swear to God, if you said anything to him–” She stops mid sentence and takes a deep breath. “Do you have an idea of what’s going on?”

“I have no idea. What did Satoru do?” You ask her. You hear her sigh.

“I’ll talk to him. I’ll call you if I need anything.” She says before hanging up the phone. You turn your full attention to Ren, deciding that anything else can wait until he’s asleep. You walk over to him and crouch down to his level.

“You wanna watch a movie, Ren?” You ask him and he nods in response. He follows you as you walk over to the couch to look for the remote control.

“Can we eat ice cream, mommy?” He looks at you with puppy eyes, and it’s hard for you to say no.

“After dinner, Ren.” You tell him, taking a seat on the couch. He takes a seat next to you, laying his head on your lap.

You will always hold some sort of resentment towards Satoru, but you will always be thankful for the little boy that rests his head on your lap. Ren is your whole world.

When Ren is sound asleep, you find yourself on the couch, finger hovering over Suguru’s contact. And just as you’re about to call him, someone calls you first. The man that you were just thinking of. You don’t waste a second picking up the phone and putting it to your ear.

“Hey, Suguru.” There’s a dumb smile on your face. It becomes bigger when he says your name. You don’t waste any time considering your eyes are shutting on their own. You’ve texted the entire night, talking about trivial things. You just have to come out and say it, “Satoru told me that you liked me back in the day.”

“Is that so?” Suguru responds, and you hum. You bite down on your lip, waiting for him to say something else. Any other time you would be embarrassed to just say that, but your brain is barely functioning, and your confidence is extremely high. “What do you think?”

“That if you had said something before Satoru then…” You swallow thickly. Would you have chosen Suguru over Satoru? After realizing just how immature Satoru is, right now you say you would’ve chosen Suguru. Back then though… It doesn’t matter now anyway. “Maybe Ren would’ve been your kid.”

“Is that so?” You hear how he’s holding back on laughing. Finally you hear a chuckle. “Is that your way of shooting your shot?”

“Maybe…” You respond, and you’re lucky you’re half asleep when you’re saying all of this. The silence would be your biggest embarrassment at any other moment. You smile as you hear,

“Do you wanna go on a date?”

[boopshoops]

Common sense doesn't feel all that common when coming from a fella such as this.

template by ai-kan1! dividers here! sound on :)

Alias: Creek

Nickname(s): Cricket, Piranha

Gender: Xenogender

Pronouns: Any with they/it preference (they>it). Also prefers masculine language/titles (i.e. lad, mister, sir, etc.)

Sexuality: Unlabeled

Birthday: June 1 (Gemini)

Age: Somewhere close to 200, they've stopped counting

Height: 5'8 or 172cm, though the height of the doll is adjustable.

Voice Claim(s): Yuri Lowenthal, Keiichi Nanba

Twisted From: Jiminy Cricket

Unique Magic: None! It's magicless.

Job: Playful Land Owner

Hobbies: Terrarium making, architecture, entrepreneurship, bug collecting, raising bug colonies, reading, violin, creating soundscapes, fashion.

Likes: Bugs, spiders, nature, Italian roulade, their doll body, cricket song, old locomotives, leaving large impressions on others, seclusion.

Dislikes: Existentialism, extreme pessimism, extended periods of boredom, drawing in an unwanted crowd, unrewarded extended efforts.

Fears: Being completely numb, feeling nothing, being stuck in one place for too long.

Summary: The eccentric yet secluded benefactor of Playful Land, both feared and loved by many for their charities. The owner is known for exploring many different business ventures, to the point where their company is behind a startlingly large amount of big names and faces. It's been around for a suspiciously long amount of time... at least others find it suspicious, Creek's lifespan isn't that much of a secret to their close circle... that circle mostly consisting of a bunch of insects, but still.

Creek, evidently, is more so focused on doing their own thing and finding constant sources of emotion rather than living up to the standards their business has risen to. After all, once you reach the top, it has to find out just what else life has in store for them. That, and what life has in store for others. Whether that is dangerous or not is up to you, long as you stay on your toes.

Playful Land's owner is known among their hires - even in avenues outside the amusement park - as being oddly generous, if not even incredibly intelligent. Guidance is something they are almost always willing to offer, in any topic or field. Don't get it wrong, though. They're not kind or overtly rude. What you see is what you get, even if it gets you sent straight to hell. Thems the facts, lad.

CHARACTER PLAYLIST - CREATION STORY - DEATH STORY

Author's note: koisdghdosieeee theyre so sillayyy! theyre just sooo sillay guys trust me guys its just a sillay lil geek mk! wym they abandoned isola and stole whats practically her skeleton. what could u posibly mean i jhave no idea what you're talking about :) they just like little critters theyve never done anything wrong no human trafficking into labour here noooooooooooooooooooooooooo pal!!!!!! perfectly legal lived a perfectly normal amount of time totally is NOT a peepaw and has not fed ANYONE to their massive supply of crickets.

anyway ernesto/fellow bombing their giantass ship was the most entertaining thing thats happened to them in a decade <3

mr. "why are you charging those two for the destruction of the park" "i just wanted to see what would happen lol" Creek

Tag list :)

@skriblee-ksk @lowcallyfruity @justm3di0cr3 @kitwasnothere @cecilebutcher

@distant-velleity @thehollowwriter @techno-danger @scint1llat3 @the-trinket-witch

@beneathsakurashade @kathxrat-01 @qsoap @twsted-canvas @prince-kallisto

@gimmeurmoneyagh @tixdixl @sillyslipperybananapeel @twstinginthewind

[cherrrydragon]

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE (LET ME GET WHAT I WANT)

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SUMMARY ↳ ;) Damian and Jon are easy to spot, standing together near a large decorative display. Jon's bright smile is a beacon, and Damian's more reserved demeanor contrasts starkly with his friend. They’re standing in front of a window. It paints the image of being surrounded by snowfall as they chat away. pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: threats of bodily harm wc: 4.3k

Nothing quite says party like a Tony Stark party. You distinctly remember your first one. You weren’t even planning to come, but when Tony saw you in bed with pajamas he bullied you into getting dressed. He said that you ‘needed to get out more’, which was bull, but whatever. As payback you drank as much alcohol as you could sneak. The scolding from Steve you got was worth it seeing Tony’s appalled stare.

This time, you intend to stay in bed.

Bruce Wayne has decided to throw a New Year’s Gala, for whatever reason. You think it doubles as a charity, but you don’t know why else he would throw it, nor do you care enough to find out. He did invite you, but you’re not too keen on being perceived by society.

“You look nice,” you muse, seeing Damian in his little formal wear. He’s made a quick stop in your room, for whatever reason. He’s a cute sight, so you’re not complaining.

Damian adjusts the cufflinks on his formal wear. "Thank you," he mutters, glancing away for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "You should come.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "Nice try, hun. But I’m really not in the mood to be around a bunch of snooty elites."

He sighs, looking slightly disappointed. "It would be more bearable with you there."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," you tease, reaching out to straighten his tie. "Besides, someone has to stay and hold down the fort. Unless, of course, you’re asking me to be your date?”

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t dignify your comment with a response. Finishing fiddling with his tie, you step back from him. You see his hands twitch just a tad.

“Hi, [Name].” You turn to see Jon poking his head through your doorway, smiling cutely. He steps in, letting you see that he too is dressed up for the party.

“Well shit, look at you,” you grin, eyes roaming his figure.

He spreads his arms out, bashful. “Look at me,” he says, hands coming up to fidget with his tie. “I wasn’t sure about the tie, though. Damian said it was too flashy.”

You chuckle softly. “He’s just jealous he can’t pull it off like you.”

Jon laughs, shaking his head. “Maybe.”

There’s a comfortable silence as you glance between Jon and Damian, both looking unexpectedly nervous in their formal wear. It’s a stark contrast to their usual confident selves when they're out on patrol or facing down villains.

“So,” Jon starts, his tone casual, “are you coming with us?”

“Absolutely not,” you grin. “I do not have the energy to deal with people right now.

Damian huffs softly, exchanging a knowing glance with Jon before turning back to you. "You're missing out on Father's attempt at social philanthropy," he remarks dryly, clearly not a fan of the gala idea either.

Jon nods in agreement, his smile widening. "True, but I guess we'll have to suffer through it together."

You chuckle at their banter, appreciating their effort despite your reluctance. "Well, make sure to bring me back a good story or two. Preferably involving Bruce embarrassing himself on the dance floor."

Jon grins mischievously. "Deal. We'll keep you posted."

As they leave your room, Damian pauses at the door, looking back with a faint smile. "If you change your mind," he offers quietly, "you know where to find us."

You nod, blowing them kisses as they leave. You settle back into your cozy spot, grateful for the quiet evening ahead. From here, you can hear the chatter and glasses clinking from partygoers downstairs. You sigh and sink into your bed with no further plans for the night. Just as you start to drift into a more relaxed state, your thoughts briefly return to Damian and Jon.

Damian. Damian is so complex. So rich in character. He carries an air of absoluteness around him. Every now and again you have that realization that everybody around you is living their own complex lives. You guess that realization hits harder, since you had never entertained the thought of him being real. Foolish on your pat, with what you know.

Jon, Jon exudes a warmth that contrasts with Damian's reserved nature. His easy going manner and quick smile charm you so. Only he, who gets his powers from the sun, could shine so bright. He's the kind of person who can brighten any room he enters.

The sounds of the party drift up faintly, a reminder of the world outside your cozy sanctuary. For now, you're content to enjoy this peaceful moment to yourself, letting your eyes drift close.

.

.

.

“Hello?” a voice echoes out. It’s yours. An amalgamation of bright lights closes in on itself behind you. Footsteps echo as you walk down the alley. You don’t hear any civilians walking and talking or any cars going down the roads. New York is quiet tonight.

Swinging up onto a building, you began making your way across the city. The eerie silence is unnerving you. The usual hustle and bustle is conspicuously absent, replaced by an unsettling calm. In fact, New York is… completely dark. Not one apartment light is on.

Avengers tower looms over the city. It’s the only building with—some—light. The building… isn’t really a building. Half of it is gone, jagged and broken edges pointing skyward. Cracks litter the walls, glass broken.

Your footsteps echo softly as you approach the tower. The air feels heavy with a sense of desolation. There’s pieces of broken armor and weapons. Flickering lights casting eerie shadows.

As you move through the ruins, a faint voice calls out—a whisper carried on the wind. You turn, but there's no one there. The silence intensifies, punctuated only by the distant sound of your own breathing.

Suddenly, a figure appears before you—a spectral image of Tony Stark, his armor battered and glowing faintly. His eyes meet yours with a mixture of sorrow and determination.

"You were supposed to be here," he murmurs, his voice echoing in the empty chamber. "Where were you?”

You reach out, but your hand passes through his ethereal form. He fades slowly, leaving you alone. You see a broken red, white and blue shield in the distance. 

“No, no, nononono. This wasn’t supposed to happen–”

There’s a woman behind you. She seems familiar. “You left us.”

You left them. All to die.

There’s a piercing scream as you're sucked into an explosion of colors below you. You try to reach out, to grab onto something, but there’s no one there.

You sit up with a gasp, suddenly at a loss for breath. Your body is tense and sweaty and you’re breathing heavily. Your heartbeat is booming in your ears. It feels like it’s going to burst from your chest. The sensation of falling fades as you orient yourself to the familiar surroundings of your room.

You glance around, reassuring yourself with the reality of your peaceful sanctuary. The sounds of the party downstairs continue to drift up faintly, a distant reminder of the world outside your door. You rub your temples, trying to dispel the last traces of the unsettling dream.

Taking a deep breath, you reach for a glass of water on your bedside table, sipping slowly to calm your nerves. “Karen, how long was I asleep?”

“Only an hour.”

You bury your face in your hands, breathing. Sometimes you think your mind is your biggest enemy. You should’ve figured, really. You haven’t had a proper nightmare since you’ve gotten here. It was only a matter of time.

“Might I suggest heading to the Den to take your mind off things?” Karen's voice is soft, achingly so. It’s comforting.

You don’t respond verbally, only nodding your head. You throw off the covers sluggishly, still trying to ground yourself. You put on the first clothes you find. They’re definitely not gala material, but that’s fine. You’ll only pop in to tell someone where you’re going.

Titus is loitering the halls, but he comes to you when he sees you out and about. He sniffs you, gruffing like he’s disturbed by something. Maybe he can sense that you’re a little unnerved right now. You give him good pets before moving on past him.

The grandeur of the gala spills out into the hallway, the lights casting a warm, inviting glow. Chatter floods your ears as you arrive just outside the entrance to the grand room. The place is perfectly lit up and shiny. The sounds of laughter and conversation form a stark contrast to the silence of your dream, grounding you.

Damian and Jon are easy to spot, standing together near a large decorative display. Jon's bright smile is a beacon, and Damian's more reserved demeanor contrasts starkly with his friend. They’re standing in front of a window. It paints the image of being surrounded by snowfall as they chat away.

You hesitate at the entrance, your eyes drawn to Jon and Damian standing together. The way Jon's eyes light up when he looks at Damian, and the small, almost imperceptible smile that tugs at Damian's lips in response, speaks volumes. They stand close, their bodies angled toward each other.

Damian reaches out to brush away a curl from Jon's face. Jon smiles, mouthing something. He talks animatedly, eyes bright. Damian watches. Fondly, you realize, he’s watching. There’s even a little small smile on his face. It puts a matching one on your face. It reminds you of Pepper and Tony, the way they look at each other.

Like they’re in love.

…

Oh.

Oh.

Holy shit, they’re in love, aren’t they? Holy shit. How did you not notice? Well… you’re not often hanging out with both of them at the same time, are you? You know they hang out on their own without you. They were friends before they knew you of course. Since they were children. Oh God, you hope they aren’t, like, secretly dating or anything. You’ve been flirting with them, but it was playful! You swear!

.

.

.

God, what have you been doing?

You need to get home. You’re not supposed to be here. You should be at the tower, playing darts with Clint, or looking for colleges you want to go to. Not here, not pretending like everything is fine, everything is normal, everything is how it’s supposed to be. You’ve forgotten yourself, gotten too comfortable. You feel a sudden detachment, like a thread just snapped. This is a borrowed fantasy.

Like clockwork, you put on a grin, baring your teeth. You take a step back, the sounds of the party fading into the background. It's as if everything is moving in slow motion, every sound is distant and every breath is drawn out. The party fades away as you turn, making your way towards the exit. Each step feels heavy, like you're carrying a weight you can't quite name.

All you hear is a constant ringing in your ear as you swing from building to building. There are people in the streets, no doubt celebrating the incoming new year. The city seems especially alive, lights twinkling. You’re grateful you can’t feel the biting cold air thanks to your suit. You fear you’re already feeling too much right now.

By the time you reach the familiar tunnel, your stomach is in knots. You’re on autopilot as you move the rubble, climbing in. The cute fairy lights feel too bright now. Your mask retracts, letting you breathe in.

You grab a screwdriver, not yet knowing what you’re going to do. “You might be able to finish before midnight,” chimes Karen.

Really? Had you been that far along in your progress? Oh. Maybe you knew and just forgot. You don’t really know right now. Your legs feel stiff as you approach the particle accelerator, screwing in a part tight. You work methodically, hands steady despite the turmoil in your mind. Each screw, each connection, each calibration is a step closer to completion, closer to... what? A return to your old life?

Karen's voice interrupts your thoughts gently, "You're almost done. Just a few more adjustments."

You nod absently, tightening another screw. The particle accelerator is nearly ready. Your mind drifts to the dream again—Tony, the absence of life, your home that you don’t recognize. "You left us," echoes in your mind.

Finally, the last screw is in place. You step back, wiping a hand down your face, and take a deep breath. The machine hums with a soft, steady power. It's ready. You're ready. Or at least, the machine is.

You stand back, staring at the particle accelerator with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. The steady hum of the machine fills the air, a stark contrast to the chaos in your mind. It's a portal, a bridge to another reality (the start of one, at least) another chance to set things right—or at least, to find some semblance of peace.

You insert a prism into it, making sure it’s secure. “Initializing…” hums Karen. The particle accelerator hums, lights flickering on and running down it. Sound whirls as you grab the little wheel you attached to it. “Approaching maximum power.”

The machine shakes as you turn the wheel. The prism turns, guiding a light. The light cuts through the space, producing fire and sparks where it hits. It cuts an old pipe in half. Whoops.

In front of you, lies an object akin to that of Tony Stark's arc reactor. Of course, it’s not actually an arc reactor, it’s just there to hold the new element. The light pierces and cuts until finally, it reaches its target. You think you hear the prism chime as the light hits the little triangle in the holder. You know that that’s the case when the chime gets louder as the light gets brighter. Brighter, brighter, brighter—oh.

You turn the machine off, looking at the glowing creation. The light fades, showing you the bright glowing triangle that is the new element. You sigh in content.

You duck under the particle accelerator, approaching the mimic arc reactor. Your fingers flex in anticipation, reaching out. The claws of your suit clink against the tiny triangle as you pick it up.

“Congratulations, [Name]. You’ve successfully recreated Tony Stark’s new element.”

You hum. “Well, couldn’t have done it without you and your awesome know-it-all abilities, my dear.”

A symphony of crackles, pops, and booms that fill your ears. Each pop rattles off as it fades. Oh, the fireworks. Is it…

“What time is it, K?”

“It is currently twelve AM, on the dot. I think this was an appropriate way to start the new year, don’t you?”

You chuckle, bowing your head. “Happy New Year.” You wonder if Damian and Jon… no. Probably shouldn’t think about that.

“Happy New Year, [Name].”

“...Happy New Year…”

You whirl around, fist tightly curling around the badassium. There’s no one there. Um. Were you imagining things? Oh, you see now, a figure there in the corner. A figure, somebody. Somebody that looks like…

Looks like…

“I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now…”

How did your senses not pick up on them?

“I… don’t know what I’m doing here myself.”

They’re stepping closer to you.

“I guess… well. I don’t know.”

It’s… it’s…

“But I do know… that I’m sorry. I was… I shouldn’t have done what I did.”

It’s the spider… the one from the warehouse. The reason why you’re here.

“You…” Suddenly, you can’t breathe.

They clasp their hands behind their back, looking around the room. Then they look at you. Stare at you. The eyes of their suit squint as they take in your face. “Pretty cozy place. More cozy than mine, that’s for sure.”

You put down the badassium, afraid you’ll break it in your fist. They turn to look at it, then at the particle accelerator. “You work fast. Faster than me. It took me way too long to make that big stupid thing. I didn’t have any blueprints or even confirmation that it would work, but–”

A scratchy yell erupts from your mouth as you pounce at them. They dodge, fucking spidey senses.

They hold out their hands. “Woah woah woah, wait–”

You don’t wait. You lunge at them again, claws swiping out to them. It lands, leaving behind red. They don’t have an armored suit like yours. You have the advantage.

They scramble out of your way, knocking over things as they go. “Please–”

You grab their suit at their collarbone, pulling them to you. “You!”

“Me?” they squeak.

“You’re the reason I’m fucking stuck here!”

“I know I know, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking! I was being stupid! I just–”

“I don’t care,” you growl, showing your fangs. Your shoulders flex, releasing the nano spider legs. They emerge hauntingly, their sharpened points glinting, poised and ready to strike.

“You know, I’m not really like the other spiders. Most of ‘em anyways,” you drawl. “Apart from being the only [Name] I know, my moral compass is a roulette wheel. I’m a hero of course, I save who need saving, and punish who needs punishing.”

“Truth is,” you lean in, eyes wide and flickering with hot pink, “I am much more keen to violence than the others. I’ve killed people. A couple of people, actually,” you admit, voice low and intense. “Doesn’t make me a true good person, of course, but it does make the world a bit safer for those that are.”

They try to struggle free, but you hold them firm. "I'm going to figure out what you need. So tell me, what the fuck are you doing?”

They sniff, taking in a deep breath. “I never wanted to hurt you. I don’t hurt people.” Their hands quiver as they latch onto yours. “I just wanted to go home, and I thought you were gonna stop me–”

You growl and they yelp. “It’s not an excuse! I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s my explanation. I just.. I felt bad. I was…” they pause.

“I was working on this machine. A particle accelerator,” they sigh, oblivious to the way your ears start ringing. “I was messing around, and I got stuck in your universe. I tried to go back home. I tried for so long, acting like everything was normal, like I belonged but I… I had to go back home.” Their voice gets wobbly. “I spent so long there, I got desperate.”

They start sniffling, and you know they’re crying. “I thought, if I could find where you went… I could help you get back to your universe. So what happened to me won’t happen to you.” They take a step back. Oh, did you let them go? “I can’t take you with me. Other things can't pass through my portal without turning to dust, but…”

They reach into a pocket, pulling out a small, intricate device. It glows softly in their hand, emitting a faint, steady pulse.

“...What is it?” you croak.

"It's a catalyst," they explain, their voice still shaky. "It’s what I used to stabilize the rift. You know, so my atoms wouldn’t get scattered across space.”

Your gaze narrows, skeptical of the device in their hand. "Why should I trust you?" you demand, voice edged with exhaustion and anger.

They take a deep breath, looking into your eyes with a mix of desperation and sincerity. "You shouldn’t,” they admit. "But I know what it's like. I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone."

You stare at the catalyst, the faint pulse mesmerizing. "And if this doesn't work? If you're lying?"

You feel their eyes on you through their mask, voice filled with regret and determination. "Then you can do whatever you think is necessary. But I promise you, I'm not lying."

Your silence hangs heavy between you. The sounds of the fireworks outside are distant echoes, reminding you of the world outside this tense moment. Finally, you reach out and take the catalyst from their hand, feeling its weight and the subtle hum of energy within.

“You really want to help?” you whisper, fist curling around the catalyst. “Find Miguel O'Hara from Earth-928.” Your grip tightens around the catalyst as you step back, letting the weight of the moment settle in. The stranger stands still, their eyes fixed on you through their mask. You can see the weariness in their posture, the heaviness of their own burdens reflected in their stance.

“Find him, and tell him where I am.”

They nod slowly. “I’ll find him. I promise.” Their voice holds a note of determination.

You step back and wave an arm. “Just go.” You’re well and truly done with everything at the moment.

They stand for a moment, looking at you. Looking through you. Then they turn away, and all you see is an eruption of bright and colorful light, before it’s gone just as fast as it came. The Den feels unfamiliar to you now.

You sink to the floor, mentally, physically, and spiritually exhausted. Sound is distant, the only thing you hear is a loud ringing. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, chest heaving. Your face feels wet. Ah, it’s tears. You’re crying. Why are you crying?

“–me]! [Name]! Come on, come back. I’m here, it’s okay–”

“Jon?” Is that your voice?

An arm curls around your shoulder and crowds you into his embrace. His warmth contrasts starkly with the cold dread that had settled in your chest. He holds you tightly, his presence grounding you. You cling to Jon like a lifeline, his warmth grounding you in the present.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, hand smoothing down your back.

Sniffling, you sink into his embrace. “What are you doing here?” you mutter.

“Where else should I be?” With Damian. “I stuck my ear out, heard your heart beating fast. And the sound of you… well.”

You sigh heavily, cheek against his chest, listening to his own heartbeat. It's strong and steady, everything you want to be. “My heartbeat?”

He nods against your head. “Your heartbeat.”

You sigh again, a mixture of exhaustion and relief. “Oh, Jon...”

"Shh," he soothes, his hand still moving gently along your back. "You don't have to say anything right now."

"I don't deserve you," you murmur into his chest, your voice barely audible.

Jon tightens his hold on you, his voice firm yet gentle. "Don't say that. Please don’t say that."

You take a shaky breath, feeling the weight of the night’s events settling over you. Jon’s presence is a comforting anchor amidst the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “I just… I don’t know what to do, Jon.”

He tilts your chin up gently, his blue eyes filled with concern and determination. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now. We’ll take it one step at a time, together.”

You don’t say anything, simply resting your head against him. His lips press against your forehead, gently and warm.

“In other news,” you sniffle, moving to get out of his embrace. He holds on to your for a moment, uncertain. But a persistent tug from you makes his arms drop. You reach up, grabbing the small glowing triangle. “Look what I made.”

He eyes the small thing in your claws. “What is it?”

“The badassium. The new element that I’ve created.” You rock it around gently. “I did it.”

Jon's eyes widen with surprise and admiration as he gazes at the glowing triangle in your hand. "That's incredible," he says, reaching out to gently touch the shimmering surface.

You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the lingering heaviness in your chest.

He looks up at you, his expression softening with concern. "Are you... okay?"

You hesitate, unsure how to answer. Instead of words, you hand him the glowing badassium, letting him examine it closely. The warmth of his touch is grounding. He studies it, turning it this way and that, before looking at you again. He puts it down where it was, coming back to you to hold your hand.

“You’re incredible,” he breathes. You don’t have any words, so you keep your mouth shut. 

“...Wanna go home?” he asks tentatively. You nod. He slowly steps forward, kneeling down and hooking his arms under your legs and back when you show no sign of hesitance. Jon lifts you effortlessly, cradling you close as he stands. You rest your head against his shoulder, eyes feeling heavy.

“I'm not invalid, Jon.”

“Just let me take care of you.” He shouldn't say things like that.

He makes sure that the Den is properly blocked and hidden by the rubble. After that, all you feel in the cold air biting at your cheeks as he flies you across the city. The lights below blur into streaks of color as you soar through the night sky. You cling to him, feeling the steady rhythm of his flight beneath you.

People are still at Wayne Manor as you approach, lights shining bright. Jon serves around the side, pulling up to your room's window. You sigh in relief as he gently sets you down in your room.

You see Damian rush over to you both, suit jacket forgotten. Was he waiting here for you?”

“Where were you?” he demands, hands coming up to rest on your arms. His concern is evident, his eyes searching yours for answers.

Jon steps forward, his hand resting on Damian's shoulder. "It doesn’t matter now. They’re okay," he reassures Damian, who nods slightly, though the crease in his brow doesn’t go away.

"Sorry," you say sincerely, looking at both of them, "for worrying you." You gently push Damian’s hands off you and go to your bed. Your clothes are comfortable enough, you decide. The soft pillow feels heavenly as you sink into the mattress. Hands come up the pull your blanket over you, lightly caressing your forehead before leaving.

Hushed voices bickering are the last thing you hear before darkness pulls you in.

notes: so... how we feeling? LOL

ngl i feel like the reasoning is cheap but how y'all liking the parallel? it'll make more sense later on, i promise ;)

also am i evil for using the "oh. oh." in that context? yes. yes i am

[hello-nichya-here]

What's wrong with ABA therapy? Genuinely asking.

It was literally created by a guy that did not believe autistic people were human - his words, not mine. It's not real therapy, it's just abusing autistic people (mainly children) until they associate doing any autistic thing (stimming, not looking people in the eye, giving only non-verbal answers, not being comfortable with hugs, etc) with stress and pain, so they "fix their behavior".

The entire thing is based on the completely bullshit assumptions that any trait of autism is inherently negative and has no real functionality, both to the person with the condition and to those around them, and that they can just learn how to do things "the right way" - hence the name Aplied BEHAVIOR analysis. It assumes we just "don't know how to act", like a little kid that hasn't learned to spell or how to eat using a knife and fork.

But the thing is autistic people behave the way they do for a reason. "Ordinary" things (like looking people in the eye, or always hugging their relatives and friends, or having to be in a crowded room, with a lot of people talking at once) are PAINFUL to us. Some of us can mask how much it bothers us, but it never stops being a problem. And on the case of stimming (saying the same word over and over, running around, flapping ours hands, biting on a toy, etc) that is what we do to self-sooth when something isn't going right.

ABA is abusive because it forces the patients to behave in a way that causes nothing but pain, just because that's how neurotypicals behave naturally. It's like punching someone in the face over and over, telling them that if they complain they'll just get punched again, and then using the fact that they're not complaining about being punched anymore as "proof" that you made them no longer feel pain - when it's pretty clear they're only not complaining because they'd be punished with more pain if they tried.

Not to mention: training a bunch of vulnerable kids, some of which cannot talk and don't even understand what's going on, that if an adult does something that bothers or hurts them, including touching their body without permission, it's their job to just sit there and take it and that if they turn to their parents for help they'll just get scolded for it because, again, the whole point of ABA is to go "This is all your fault actually, stop crying" is a HORRIBLE idea. It's practically grooming kids to accept that any and all forms of abuse (including sexual) are things that are supposed to happen to them.

That's why one of THE most repeated phrases by autistic people who speak out against ABA and organizations like Autism Speaks, an AWFUL hate-group pretending to be a charity and that adores things like ABA or trying to to blame everything from vaccines to milk for the "rise in autism cases" (which isn't actually real), is "Nothing about us without us."

The overwhelming majority of treatments and charities that claim to help autistic people are only doing things that are either useless or downright harmful to us because they all start from the basic misconception that we don't understand our own condition, that we cannot possibly know what would help us, and that we need someone else to "decode the mystery" that is autism to "save" us.

Entire decades of wasted effort and money, as well as abuse being pushed as a solution, could have been prevented if non-autistic people would fucking LISTEN instead of speaking over us just because we act "weird." It's all based on "Your condition bothers ME, therefore I'm the one who decides what is or is not a problem for YOU." It's the most condescending bullshit ever.

[etherealspacejelly]

i wanna explain something real quick because i learned it as part of this module im revising right now and its really interesting. im counting this as part of my revision lets fucking go

ok so in ecology theres this thing called elasticities where basically you get a bunch of data on the life cycle of an organism and plug it into a computer program and mess around with it to see what happens. you could change the survival rate of juveniles or the reproductive rate of large females etc etc and you see how that effects the overall population growth rate of the species.

a proportionally small change can have surprisingly large effects. and you look at this table of values it spits out and you ok so a small change to the survival rate of 7 year old desert tortoises makes a massive difference to the population growth rate so if we focus on protecting that life stage we can save the species

but like. for a lot of conservation efforts people just decide to save the babies. because they think thats the best way to save any species. and so we have all these charity conservation programmes doing shit like. harvesting sea turtle eggs from beaches and incubating them and releasing them when they hatch and its just. a bunch of money being spent on something thats not actually helping that much

so the ecologists come in and they're like hey uh. we have this thing called a Turtle Excluder Device (yes thats a real thing) that stops adult turtles from being caught in fishing nets and its actually way better at conserving the species than just saving the babies. could we maybe. get some funding for this. to implement it on a wider scale. and people are like no gotta save the eggs!!!!11!!!1 the babies!!111!1!!

so uh. moral of the story. listen to ecologists. they know what they're on about. and sometimes saving the adults is way more effective than saving the babies.

[call-me-strega]

How to Become a Step-Dad: Lore

Edited: 10/16/2023

While I am currently in between writing chapters I thought I’d release a little bit of the lore that will be incorporated in the story or that I think is canon but might not get mentioned since the story is mostly Jason’s perspective.

What’s up with Jason?

So in this au Jason went through basically all his canon backstory and stuff already so that’s established and done with. Some smaller points that may or may not come up are things like his possession of the all-blades, his time on Nanda Parbat, Talia essentially adopting him, or his experience being Catatonic. Speaking of which, I have decided his resurrection came from his righteous anger combining with the ectoplasm in Gotham’s atmosphere, and he is essentially a revenant for the purposes of this story (he’s about a fourth ghost? Or maybe 3/4ths? 3/5ths? Idk yet).

He does already have a reputation in the Infinite Realms as “The Avenger” and “Son/Knight of Gotham” due both to the existence of city spirit Lady Gotham and the ghosts of people who’ve died in Gotham. He actually has a rabid fan club who want him to kill the Joker( if he became a ghost he’d be tried and banished to the nightmare realm).

I am also going to use “the pits are corrupted ectoplasm” trope in the story. However, they’re gonna be corrupted less in the sense of being straight-up poison and more in the sense of eating a weird mushroom with weird side effects (rage, slightly sentient/vocal core, white trauma streak)

As for his relationship with the Bat Family, we’ve moved to a point where everyone’s more or less made up. For Jason and Bruce specifically, they are now more civil. Their relationship is less “ What you’re doing is wrong and you have to stop.” vs “ I’m just doing what you won’t” and now it’s more “ I don’t fully approve of your decisions, but as long as you’re not killing people and coming home for dinner, I don’t care enough to nag you about it” vs “ You’re my dad and I love you. Plus actively killing people is no longer super necessary so I will give in but I still enjoy pissing you off”.

In terms of sibling relationships, Jason has like the cool older brother vibe but he’s actually the semi-responsible one that feeds you when you come over and makes you do homework and sleep properly. He’s still down for shenanigans but is low-key a mom friend. (Dick is not the “responsible one” he is a certified chaos gremlin. Not to say he can’t be responsible, he’s just not the one enforcing these things. He cares more about your social, emotional, and/or, mental state and would help you skip school to steal a penguin or go to ComiCon or smth if you said it was a “mental health day”). I think he has semi-regular hangouts with his siblings on a weekly basis.

I like to think that he and Damien did have a bit of interaction when they were both with the League so they do have a close bond there. He’s definitely apologized to Tim a bunch of times and they’re pretty close now they like scheming together, especially on how to annoy Bruce. Overall he’s largely made up and re-integrated with the family. It’s going to be mentioned later in the story that they resurrected his civilian identity as Jason Todd, so he can publicly be seen with his family and also to do work with the family.

This brings me to my next point of lore: that as Jason gains more control of Crime Alley, he focuses his efforts more into charity work. He’s helping the people get their education, get better access to healthcare, get better job opportunities, running soup kitchens, etc., and doing more humanitarian-focused work. He has got a pretty firm grip on crime and drugs so he’s shifting his focus more towards helping the people now. Even just being part of his gang can be helpful because he works with the Goonion (Goon Union) and offers good insurance plans and stuff. That’s part of the reason they resurrect his civilian identity is so that he can start working with/taking over the Wayne foundation.

What’s up with Danny and Ellie?

Okay so first things first in the story Danny is going to be the ghost prince (not king yet for a long while) and he acts as a junior member on the Council of Ancients who rule with Clockwork acting as his main regent. Meaning that Council + Danny make decisions and Clockwork is Danny’s ghost dad and is formal regent but mostly just handles things with help from the council. Essentially, after at least a couple thousand years Danny will be considered “of age” or eligible and take over the Infinite Realms; and after several billion he’ll become the ancient of space/reality and essentially become a god or primordial being of sorts. Also being of age is different than being an adult ghost. To be an adult ghost you need to have been a ghost for at least 20 years after your lifetime, unless you’re an eternal kid ghost like Youngblood or BoxLunch. So ghosts like Technus, the Box Ghost, and Lunch Lady are all adult ghosts. Whereas ghosts like Johnny 13, Kitty and maybe Ember either aren’t yet adult ghosts or became adult ghosts recently. Ellie ranks as princess and second-in-line, she’ll go through a similar process and eventually join the Council, become a diplomat, and/or rule as regent if/when Danny leaves the Ghost Zone. I’m gonna say all other afterlife’s and stuff are connected to the Zone and their respective leaders make up Phantom’s Court. (So basically he’s king and they are like the nobles). They all govern their own territories and Phantom handles any rouges or conflicts. When Ellie gets older she’ll move between realms on diplomatic missions to lighten some of Danny’s work. I haven’t decided what this means for anyone who is currently mortal and/or liminal. I might just have them live, fulfilling lives and pass away and move on to different afterlives. Or I might have them take places within the Phantom’s court or as advisors. And on the topic: Jazz, the Fenton parents, Sam, and Tucker are all fairly liminal, Jazz and the Dr.s Fenton a bit more than the other two. Everyone in Amity has a little bit of liminality, but not enough to affect their life spans or anything. Also, Vlad is still currently his usual, creepy, Frootloopy-self. But after screwing him over in this fic eventually, I want to have him arrested by the ghost police and spend several thousand years in ghost prison before he gets let out. Then he works on improving his relationships and post-redemption he’s going to be like that annoying, overbearing Uncle who tries to be cool and annoys you but ya don’t hate him. Another thing I wanted to go over is their obsessions. I wanna say the halfas all have dual obsessions bc it fits nicely with the half-and-half concept. Danny is protection and space. Ellie is freedom and family. Vlad is power and love. If I include Dark Danny he’ll be power and destruction and a reformed version would have control and safety.

As for his rouge gallery? Danny is able to help them find healthier outlets for their obsessions so they've become less of an issue. Now they kind of just act like Danny's annoying friends and/or extended family. The ones who were straight-up evil though are on indefinite time out in ghost prison though (e.g. Spectra and Freakshow). The gang still comes to visit him and Ellie from time to time though and he regularly sees them when he goes back to the realms for prince duties and stuff.

What’s up with Amity?

So after he turns 18, Danny decides to tell his parents about being Phantom. He’s legally an adult now and has been working toward getting emancipated anyways so he might as well. They took it like how I imagine slightly homophobic parents would react to learning their child was lgbt (side note: the Fentons are pro-lgbt. When Danny told them he was bi Jack said “Me too son!”, happy to have something to bond over). He tells them about the portal and becoming Phantom. They believe him and they are devastated and guilty.

In the next few weeks, they get into a couple arguments over them wanting to “fix” his ghost half. He blows up and tells them that by doing that they’d end up killing him and that Phantom is a part of who he is and they’ll just have to accept that. That night Danny leaves and with help from Sam stays in an apartment with Jazz near her college. He takes a two-year gap to get a handle of Infinite Realms and GIW stuff, plus doing a few small jobs to save up some money. Within that time the GIW gets taken down and the Fentons reach out bc their love for their children is stronger than their dislike of ghosts. Their relationship is still strained but getting better.

Dani also gets de-aged during that time and Danny decides to take care of her (partly for healing purposes and partly cause he wants to). His friends help forge documentation for her and he fights with Vlad over custody but ultimately wins and makes him pay child support. He’s saved up enough money and with a little help from Sam and Vlad gets an apartment in Gotham. He got a scholarship and is doing mostly online classes at Gotham University. He’s currently working part-time (I have not decided as what but I’m leaning toward mechanic). Vlad paid to have him enroll Ellie in Gotham Academy so she wouldn’t have to go to public school and Danny allowed it since it’d get her a better education. Ellie is going to start first grade in about 3 months since they moved to Gotham in June. (Just for reference, Damian is currently 12 and in seventh grade since I've decided not to move him up.)

Everyone in Amity knows about the discord between the Fenton's before Danny leaves. They don't necessarily know about Phantom though. Everyone kind of assumes Danny came out, fought with his parents then left. When some of them find out about Ellie another rumor circulates she was the topic of the fight. Regardless, the Fenton drama is kinda an open secret and most people sympathize with Danny. Whenever he comes back to town to visit a lot of people are really nice to him and Ellie, which he thought was weird until he learned what people thought was going on. Now he just takes advantage of their misunderstandings.

What's up with the GIW?

The GIW manages to get a hold of Ellie after Danny leaves Amity. When Vlad and Danny +Team Phantom find out they team up to rescue her. Danny also recruits people that he's met during his time away. For this mission, he recruits Constantine and Captain Marvel/Shazam. When the Fentons find out they want in too, almost as an apology gesture. They no longer want to try and "fix" Danny and are okay with Ellie's existence. They view her like family and want to help out. A lot of their views are still prejudiced but they're getting better, however, that's not the only thing straining their relationship. This is a step in the right direction though.

So they go in and infiltrate first in order to get Ellie out. Then they destroy the facilities behind them as they leave. Constantine and Captain Marvel then go back to the JL to work on getting to Anti-Ecto Acts repealed, something that is still in progress during the beginning of this fic. That's why they are gonna lay low while they’re in Gotham. The GIW attempted to experiment on Ellie while they had her but the containment unit they used destabilized her ectoplasm. She retains all her memory but is mentally and physically de-aged. Frostbite assesses her and says she needs to get extra ecto and to be near another halfa aura to help develop and stabilize her own systems. That leads to Vlad and Danny fighting over custody before Danny inevitably beats Vlad into the ground and walks away with custody and child support.

I think a full reveal about identities will happen after Danny gets confirmation that his existence is no longer illegal. It'll probably be after Jason asks him out but before he accepts because he wants Jason to know what he's getting into. Jason will probably be shocked but accept it relatively quickly. I haven't decided yet if I want him to live a mortal life with them and then die (either to move on or become a full ghost) or if I want him to be basically immortal like them and give him a position in the court.

~~~~ Find chapter one here

Chapter 2 now here

[camillescreations]

Why are people being so nasty to the ofmd fandom over our renewal efforts? I just blocked a guy who reblogged a post about the Times Square billboard who said that he hopes every single member of the fandom gets SHOT??? Who the actual fuck says that? And he's supposed to be advocating AGAINST genocide?? You know telling thousands of innocent people just trying to keep something they love that they deserve to be murdered isn't really against the whole genocide idea... right?

I've seen tons of posts similar to this, too, especially regarding the billboard. And, look, I get it, there is a genocide going on right now. No one in this fandom is denying or downplaying that. The fandom itself has raised money for Palestine, and the leftover money from the Hoist the Ads campaign is going to various charities. I didn't personally donate any money to the billboard, but I'm not going to bash the people who did. We are allowed to care about multiple things at once. And we are allowed to be excited about trying to get a show renewed that brings us immense joy without being told we're idiots or we should die. People are allowed to put money into things that they think are "fun." I really hope no one writing any of these posts has bought anything other than necessities since the attacks started, because that would be pretty hypocritical. And all these posts about how the fandom sucks aren't really productive? They just make people block you. And, frankly, they make people sadder in an already sad time. How is that doing anyone any good, guys?

I know what my morals are. And I don't need a bunch of trolls making me feel like garbage for liking something. I wish people would take the time they put into writing nasty posts that target people who are just minding their business and put it into other things. We would all be better for it, I think.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Harry and Meghan's Archewell Foundation is banned from raising or spending money after it is deemed DELINQUENT for failing to pay fees and submit records | Daily Mail Online

We always suspected that Archewell was dodgy as heck! And that the real purpose of the "charity" was to help fund H&M's lifestyle

A bunch of anons are asking me about the latest report to Archewell and what I think so…

As I wrote in my “What a February” post, the launch of the new Sussex website was a rebranding effort. I theorized then that Meghan was phasing Archewell out because it flopped as a brand and at the time, mid-February, Archewell had just failed its trademark application for the fifth and final time. So the writing was very much on the wall that Archewell is/was going away and that they were spinning up a new Sussex organization as its replacement.

Now I’m even more confident that Archewell may eventually be phased out because it’s even more public that there are serious problems behind Archewell, problems that affect its ability to function as a nonprofit charity. It’s only a matter of time. I expect this is the tip of the iceberg when it comes to their financial and asset management; remember, Meghan filed for bankruptcy once (before Harry) and that is something that sticks around for a good long while. Declaring bankruptcy isn’t always bad thing and there are people who do turn their lives around and get their finances back on track, but when you have a history of financial mismanagement and now things like this are happening? You’re delinquent on payments and reports, there are allegations of fraud and mismanagement, and your leadership at a previous charity was investigated by another country’s oversight board?

Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. Or, I guess, in the Sussexes’s case: A shiny new website marks the spot to dig.

The bottom line is that Archewell has problems, the watchdogs are watching, it’s getting tough out there, and the Sussexes are squirming. You can tell by their statement, which is classic Sussex deflection: it’s the AG’s fault their check wasn’t processed in time.

Which is actually pretty revelatory on its own. That they couldn’t (or didn’t) send the check until just before the deadline suggests they don’t have liquid assets in Archewell or an expense account for basic operating expenses and they were scrambling to find the $200 to put in the account so the check didn’t bounce. So despite having $2 million in charitable donations received (or whatever the number is), none of that money is liquid or earmarked for basic operations - it’s all tied up elsewhere and that’s just not good. It leads to questions, and scrutiny, like “where is the money really going?” or “who’s paying for the staff if you can’t pay your annual registration fee?”

I bet if the right person dug into that, they’d uncover quite a few skeletons that the Sussexes want to stay buried so they can win (a one-sided) War of the Waleses against William and Kate.

[olderthannetfic]

When people genuinely believe that something they do is good or helpful or uplifting or part of a solution to one of society's ills, they are very very resistant to anyone telling them that it's actually useless or even harmful to the very people they think it helps.

This is important to keep in mind when you're dealing with any morality driven behaviour -- fandom antis, think-of-the-children right wingers, and people who who've fallen for TERF or Autism Speaks talking points.

If you are doing something because it helps people, and someone pops up like "dude, that hurts me", you're probably not going to believe them, and if you do you're probably going to find a way to explain them away as an exception.

It breaks people's brains to be told that their genuine efforts to make things better are actually the problem, not the solution (no matter how obviously unhelpful their efforts are to an outside observer).

And we're seeing a microcosm of that with some of the petty arguments around here. People use tone indicators because they want to help autistic people understand their text, so when an autistic person says that tone indicators make them feel excluded or make sentences more confusing, people don't go "oh wow, I didn't know I was making things worse, I'll rethink this" they call the autistic person ableist, or say they're lying or being selfish, or tell them their needs are irrelevant compared to those of a larger hypothetical group.

The "uwu hydration check" conversation is showing this, too. People do that because they want to help; no wonder they aren't taking it well when a bunch of ND people show up in the notes all "infantilizing disabled people is bad actually".

The takeaway here is to actually listen to the people you want to to help, and not dismiss them as outliars, and to not expect that a simple pile of facts will convince someone to stop doing something harmful out of a misguided sense of charity.

--

[rentalboos]

Watcher has lost almost 100 thousand subscribers

Hi babygirl, thank you for your 6 new messages, I love that you think my opinion is this important, though I genuinely don't quite get it. I'm not even a Watcher fanaccount, like, I have maybe two followers who even know the channel. What beef do you have with me lmao Since you're so interested in it though, I'm going to give it to you! FOR FREE! Since that's so important to you!

Here's the tldr: You're on anon sending hate, so you already know you're in the wrong and everyone else knows it too!

Great. Now that that's covered, here we GO! My precious opinion that you value so much! For free:

I'm sorry it offends you that I have the 5,99 to pay them and am doing it, but like. Do you do this with everyone? Do you go into people's DMs (no of course not, you only hate anonymously, wonder why that is!) to yell at them about subscribing to Twitch streams? Spotify? Youtube membership? Patreons?

What about this offends you so? That a bunch of youtubers had to make a tough choice between "we have to stop creating the art we want" and "we could try and keep creating the art we want, but we'll need to get paid for it" and chose to try and get paid for it? Is the offense, to you personally, that other people will still get to enjoy the content they like, opposed to absolutely no one getting to? It certainly can't be that you, personally, can't access their content anymore, because, quite frankly, I doubt you actually like it very much.

As for your five billion questions for why this makes you racist: You singling out Steven makes you racist. They founded this company together and they doubtlessly made this decision together and the narrative that is currently spun of "Shane (the white dude) would never, his evil non-white co-workers are forcing him to!" is .... extremely parasocial, and wildly random and coming out of nowhere.

Except for all the parts it's not, because of COURSE. Of course the evil guy and the guy who creates content "no one wants to fund" and who now everyone calls "boring" and who now has viral hate tweets saying he's "dragged Ryan and Shane down", is the asian guy who's pushed for diversity on the channel from the very start.

Like, he's well aware that his shows are the least popular. There's a reason for that, sweetie, and I promise you, it has to do with the fact that they've focused on diversity and quality rather than shittalking in front of a camera. And I'm not even a Steven girlie, I'm a Ghost Files ride or die, baby!

But this narrative that he's "homophobic and racist" because he said in a podcast once that he chooses to stay friends with people who sometimes sprout ignorant views, that's like- Get a fucking grip. I know y'all haven't reached adult life yet, it is painfully apparent, but there comes a time in life where you'll have to realize that sometimes the people around you aren't as socially aware or educated as you, but in their nature good eggs, and you can, of course, choose to drop their asses, if you don't happen to be otherwise connected to them in an adult environment, where jobs and friend groups often overlap or they're part of your family or family's circle, but the far, far better choice is to be their friend and educate them. Because that's the best way the ignorant views become less ignorant. That's literally what he's been saying in that podcast ep, by the way. I don't need to "google" that and I don't need your twitter links, I was there when that episode dropped. I listened to it as I did the dishes. I was applauding Steven for putting in the time and effort and energy to DO that with people, because I oftentimes find myself too scared to have the conversations he is having.

Watcher has donated to queer charities. They sell queer merch. They have queer employees. Their fanbase is mainly queer. He's not homophobic, y'all are insane. If any of that would go against his values, he'd a) not be in a company with Ryan and Shane, because they wouldn't be having it and b) wouldn't stand up for, employ and cater to queer people. He'd be out with the homophobes, telling us how Jesus died for our sins or whatever.

He's also not racist which- duh. Before I even knew Steven Lim, I already knew this is something he is incredibly(!) sensitive about, he literally hates racism (And I don't know if you noticed. But he's very often the target of it, you absolute bufoon) and specifically went into Watcher to be able to help marginalized voices have a platform. That was his goal for Watcher that he couldn't properly fulfil in Buzzfeed. I know that. Because I was there from the start and actually listened to them talk. And it was stated and proven many, many times.

Y'all so eager to jump on a hate train and take shit out of context, it's pathetic. And "homophobic" good God, he had a book on his bookshelf. Wow. I have Harry Potter in three different editions on my bookshelf, I've learned reading with them. They have tear stains on the pages where Dumbledore died. You're gonna say I'm a transphobe if you see them in a photo? Gonna go ahead and call me, a trans guy, a transphobe now? Knock yourself out. Because I'll care about that about as much as I care about how many angry little kids are unsubscribing from Watcher rn: Not even a little bit.

You're whining like little bitches in random fan's inboxes, are throwing insults, false accusations and racism around to stirr the pot, you're coming for Steven as if Ryan and Shane aren't literally HORRIFIED by y'all doing this in their name to someone who's their close friend. As if Watcher would even exist without him, when he saved it from going bankrupt in their first year, when Ryan and Shane couldn't be arsed to step up and figure out how to run a company.

You weren't paying them anyway. I'm subscribed to their Patreon at the highest tier, because I know good art doesn't come free and I knew they were gonna struggle on Youtube views alone and I enjoy their content and want to help them keep making it. I don't expect anyone to be able to do that - And they don't either. They also don't expect everyone to pay or be able to pay for their streaming services. They're currently working on responding to the feedback and make things more accessible. They certainly didn't handle this perfectly and they certainly didn't want to make this choice if they had another one. Neither of the three.

You won't pay for it. That's fine. That's literally all there is to it. There's no need to sling this shit around, but you're doing it anyway. Not because you care, but because you're having fun with it. Well, go ahead. The more hate you send, the more I know I'm standing up for the right people.

[msfbgraves]

I think that if we're all forced to sell our lives away to please corporate, governmental or dictatorial overlords;

If they've made it impossible to not participate in the system;

If opting out on a small scale exactly does nothing to hurt any of the evil;

If you sometimes even actively can't do much, because they've worked you till you're old or you're disabled in some way

It comes back to what all the religions preach anyway:

What you can always do is give to others. Even if it is a day pass to feckin Disney World to buy their crap and make them richer, it will boost happiness and lower stress. Misery and want is what the whole system feeds off. If you lower that in any way, it is fewer drugs sold, fewer people harmed, maybe slightly less time stuck in some kind of traffic, maybe somebody has the energy to fix something in the house, work on their health, play with their dog.

The system works on manufactured misery. And yes, it will be fed even by a lot of the efforts to lessen misery. But they will earn a whole lot less, and it will lessen their ability to create more, the more we do for each other. Even in whatever system traps you.

That is not easy at all but it is simple.

And I'm not that much for interacting with a bunch of people all the time. There are people that annoy me and I don't want to interact with. There are people so spoilt they could do with a little adversity to deflate their egos. I don't even particularly trust many charities. But any misery you can lessen, any joy you can buy, even, sticks it to the destructive forces in this world.

Remember - they live off agony and coercion. That's where all of it builds on. People are not half as bad as everybody always paints them. Use discernment, of course - don't get exploited. But every bit of true, actual happiness or relief you can create or buy helps. Even if you're trapped, and exploited, and powerless, feelings they want you to numb, or even situations they hope will kill you to scare others into submission - even then, anything you can or even buy for another will fight it. For a close one. Not for the state, the nation, corporate, vague charity. Sometimes not even for you, because what power you have is too little to solve your problem. But giving it to another - as directly as possible - always helps.

It's truly the best way to fight the power, that's why they always create disconnection. Worship either the grand, unknowable state or the individual. No, anything you can do for another person, just some other rando, will always fight the loneliness, fear and misery that drives profit. That's why they disincentivise it everywhere, and if not they try to sell it.

Don't bother. Go hang out with someone. Go do something to ease the daily stress if it is ordering someone a Starbucks Gift Card.

[tyrranux64]

00 - THE FOOL Sora is the most foolish of innocents, especially when he leaves his fate to the machinations of others. And when he does have his own agency he tends to be too reckless and headstrong. Of course his inherit knuckleheaded nature can be his best quality, pulling out an unexpected surprise that not even the most carefully calculating villain can possibly account for. And since the beginning of his quest, he's never really needed the conventional outdated wisdom of so called "Masters", he has always forged his own path.

01 - THE MAGICIAN It is no secret that Tony Stark is a creative genius. After all he was able to develop a revolutionary perpetual energy reactor the size of a human hand in a cave with but a bunch of scraps. Is it any surprise he was even able to casually discover time travel whilst in his pajamas? And don't even get me started on all the razzle dazzle he tends to put on his wonderful toys. Guess the line between science and magic truly is a razor thin one....

02 - THE HIGH PRIESTESS The knowledge of what the future holds is something reserved for God, but alas such knowledge has been dropped right onto Tsukino Usagi’s lap. Her marriage to Mamoru, the existence of her future daughter Chibiusa, the fated ascension to Neo Queen Serenity and the rise of Silver Millennium. All just dumped before a high school student who is already having trouble just trying to graduate. It is a lot to unpack and Usagi must now prepare herself to take on the inevitable burdens before her. To trust her instincts and learn from her past mistakes. She has a lot to learn ahead of her and not as much time as she thinks she has to do it…. 

03 - THE EMPRESS For what else is the Princess of Friendship but a surrogate mother? What else are the people of her kingdom but her adopted children? They are not subjects to be ruled, they are her family. This is why Twilight Sparkle ascended to the heights of an alicorn, to uphold the responsibility of being a parent.

04 - THE EMPEROR There is no question his allies and friends look to him as a "leader", though that is more because of him being the biggest fish among them and their resulting dependance on his power. And as a father figure? Well, it is quite telling that his most defining act as a father to his son Gohan is a last ditch effort to fix the mess he created himself. But hey, better to be the father that sacrifices himself to save their child than the one that leaves them to die in the lion's den....

05 - THE HIEROPHANT As Bruce Wayne, his political influence upon the world is limited to the amount of charity money he can dish out, still having to abide by the system that puts him in the one percent. People just don't take him seriously enough to listen. But as the Batman, he can move droves of people with action. His battle against crime garnering the respect of even the police, those that faced his judgement have no choice but to heed his words. The cape and cowl is unbound by the petty status quo of society, he has no strings to hold him back. Everyone listens to the bat.

06 - THE LOVERS The Freedom Fighters don't just have one heart, they have two. Sally Acorn, the one to think up the plan of action. Sonic the Hedgehog, the one to take action. Two halves of the same singular ray of hope to guide the rag tag group of resistance to victory. Though they do not think alike (and can sometimes get on each other's nerves) they are still harmonized, able to work together at the most dire of straights. With only one of them, the Freedom Fighters are compromised, without both they are lost....

07 - THE CHARIOT The four Ninja Turtles were taught ninjitsu purely to survive in a world that would not accept them, told to stay in the shadows where it is safe. But perhaps because of their excess of superhero comic books or just their mutant ability to feel empathy, they cannot help but jump into action when someone is in trouble. They are always tapping into that most primordial of heroic traits, the will to act.

08 - STRENGTH It takes more than just "strength" alone to tame an eldritch horror like the Bird of Hermes. Whatever the bird sees in this one Integra Hellsing it has formed a bond that cannot be truly explained.....perhaps it is not as simple as a monster recognizing her as a strong human being? Perhaps....he sees her as a similar breed of monster?

09 - THE HERMIT There are those that work alone and then there's the self proclaimed "Terror that Flaps in the Night". So intent on doing things his way, so hellbent on getting all the glory, so desperate to prove himself to the world that the very idea of getting help from others ruffles his feathers. Of course he is not above having a sidekick but that is more someone doing things his way and not stealing his spotlight...

10 - THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE Many are at the mercy of fate, but none are quite as vulnerable to it as Matoi Ryuko. Her luck flip flops between good and bad so often that it's hard to tell if fate favors her or is out to get her. Sometimes it feels like she loses more than she wins. Not helping matters is how she is at the forefront of destiny, one of the few among the many that are the most important players for what destiny has in store. Lucky her.... 

11 - JUSTICE Diana of Themyscira doesn't just embody truth, she is the Spirit of Truth. Thus is her mission, to bring truth to the world of man, to be a guiding light towards peace and prosperity......a task that becomes increasingly difficult and nigh impossible with each passing year. Luckily, no task is too daunting for an Amazon, and no matter how long it takes she will bring man to a better place than it is right now... 

12 - THE HANGED MAN Kurosaki Ichigo is not the hero he should be, no, he is more of a plot device. A pawn used by both ally and enemy, not allowed to have any real agency of his own. A slave of fate caught in the same loop of trying to be a hero, fail miserably, go through "training" to receive new strength, fail again, deus ex machina just giving him the win. It's like whatever god is willing the stars of his universe is an incompetent who has no real concept of how the hero's journey is suppose to go. And what other choice does he have but to surrender to the cycle? His constant self sacrificing is what keeps the world spinning. And of nothing else at least he gets to keep becoming a better Ichigo than he was before right? Right?  

13 - DEATH Optimus Prime is well acquainted with the concept of change, is it after all hard wired into his very race's biology. But more than that, his years in perpetual war have shown him plenty endings and new beginnings, perhaps more of the former than the latter. And so long as he lives he will always be in the very company of death itself, looming over him, his allies and his enemies. Such is the nature of war.

14 - TEMPERANCE How long has Kiryuin Satsuki waited until she could finally be free of her vile mother? How much longer would she have waited to finally avenge her father? She waited years of her life for one moment to finally drive her blade through that vile woman, she didn't care if she succeeded or failed she has waiting for that moment long enough. And it seems that though her attempt did fail, that evil woman met her just deserts regardless, in the end fate still saw fit to reward Satsuki's patience.

15 - THE DEVIL Thanos is a very sick man. He is driven by his obsessions and desires, trying to hand wave it as "inevitability" or "higher purpose" when really it is but his own selfishness running rampant. And in his delusion he insists that the greater universe abides by his desire, worse even share in it. No matter how much he tries to change or has seemingly learned his lesson, he'll relapse in no time at all, going right back to his genocidal addiction. He truly is a lost cause....

16 - THE TOWER Uchiha Sasuke acts like he's the only one suffering, that his pain is more important than everyone else's. As such he pays no heed to that which he ruins or those that he hurts. Everything he touches, he destroys. Enemies, allies, friends, it matters not so long as he can get what he wants....which is constantly switching out. One minute he wants to get revenge on his brother, the next he wants to avenge him, and then he wants to be the one Hokage to "break the cycle of war". Whatever, he's always spin doctoring the horrible things he does to have some "deeper meaning" like he were a far right politician rewriting the bible. One has to wonder if he truly wants to use the darkness to bring about "positive change", if you ask me, he merely loves causing misery.

17 - THE STAR Sometimes it's easy to lose hope, just ask Peter Parker. Too many times it feels like no matter how hard he tries, even with spider powers his best is just not good enough. Most seem to believe so, most see him more as a menace doing more harm than good, especially Jameson. It's easy to forget what one is fighting for.....but then in his most dire moments, he can hear Uncle Ben's voice in his head telling him to not give up. Telling him about the few that do look upon the friendly neighborhood Spider Man as a symbol of hope, a star to look towards even when all other lights dim. And like that his strength returns to him, like that he gets back up and keeps fighting.

18 - THE MOON Ryoko Hakubi is both beauty and beast in one being. Not only does her power inspire fear, so too does her temperament whenever her pin is pulled. And even aside from that, she is one mystery after another, never will you truly understand how her mind or heart works. And not helping matters is her fluctuating moral compass that is comparable to mood swings. You'd have better luck figuring out women that you'd have trying to figure her out.

19 - THE SUN It's hard not to see that giant burning ball of gas as but a blight, a bleak reminder of the inevitable. But for the Last Son of Krypton, it is the source of his power. His true power, the power known as the best in humanity. That big Red S that shines like that very star inspires all to be the best they can be, igniting hearts with the strength to stand tall and proud even if they are not the strongest. Even if not everyone can be like Superman, anyone can be that which lights the darkness, anyone can be a hero.

20 - JUDGEMENT To become a Power Ranger is to be reborn into something beyond a mere human. To be infused with power for the sole purpose of answering the call to arms. Only a select few ever get to wear this mantle, and those that do must take up the fight against pure evil to their dying breath if necessary. As such the quality to become a Ranger is the resolve to always stand, to always get back up and never stop fighting. To be a Ranger is to be the one that has the resolve to fight the most important battle.

21 - THE WORLD So few can truly say they beat the Devil and got their soul back, but Albert Simmons is one such person. Perhaps it did not bring him the closure he was hoping for but it did bring him closure none the less. When he remembered the truth of his relationship with Wanda, remembered why exactly he was never allowed to have her back, he was finally able to let go and move on...

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

Not the Same Moon - Chapter 2

read on ao3 Work Summary: When the Curtis parents died, Darry was only three semesters away from graduating college. He gave it all up to take care of his brothers and return to life as a greaser. OR: an AU where Darry was much farther into college when he had to come home. It changes a lot of things, some things are always the same.

Working at the Dingo wasn’t that bad. 

It was easier on Darry’s hands and back than roofing. Plus, he genuinely liked getting to talk to people. But it was a greaser hang out for a reason, the people that came around weren’t always the most savory. 

There were grease stains on the ceiling and the curtains were faded from the sun. All of the booths and stools were cracked. The counter was always a little bit sticky, no matter how many times Darry cleaned it. But the burgers couldn’t be beat. That’s why people kept coming back.

Darry had been waiting tables there since the day after his parents’ funeral. Most nights, he picked up a shift at the Dingo. And worked until late. Soda always got on his ass about working too much, but he never complained when he brought home burgers and fries for the gang. 

“Hey, Curtis!’ He looked over to see his boss, calling for him from behind the counter. Mr. Miller nodded to one of the other booths, “Grab table three, Mona’s on her break.” 

Darry nodded, sliding him a tray of dirty dishes and cups before heading over. Sitting in the booth closest to the doors were Steve, Dally, and Soda. They all looked at him with shit eating smiles. 

That was, unfortunately, a common occurrence. A few times a week, someone took it upon themselves to come bother him at work. Usually it was Two-Bit taking Johnny and Ponyboy out for a bite after school. 

Despite the long shift, he still smiled at the sight of his brother and their friends. Since dropping out a few months earlier, Soda seemed happier. It had been a long fight that ended with them giving each other the silent treatment for three days. Then Darry found Soda hyperventilating over English homework. Soda dropped out two days later.

“What do you knuckleheads want?” Darry asked with a smirk. 

Soda answered for all three of them, “Two cheeseburgers, fries, a hamburger with relish,” he gave Steve a dirty look, “and some onion rings to go. For Ponyboy,” he added.

Darry raised his eyebrows, “Where’d you get that kind of cash, little buddy?’

Soda and Steve looked incredibly smug. Steve chimed in, “Dal’s forkin’ it up. He lost a bet.”

Darry rolled his eyes, “Alright, it’ll be out in a few.” He glanced up at the clock by the door. “I’m off in an hour, y’all gonna stick around that long?”

“Throw in a strawberry milkshake?” Soda asked, making his eyes big and pleading. Darry gave a long suffering sigh and ruffled his brother’s hair. Soda squawked and batted his hand away. 

“I’ll be right back.” Darry knocked on the table and went to deliver the order to the kitchen. 

He stuck the paper on the backboard and told the cook, Peter, “Take your time on this one, bunch of hooligans.” Peter chuckled and nodded. 

As Darry kept working, he felt the boys watching him. He made an extra effort to appear at ease and pretend that his arms weren’t aching. It was nearing ten and before he even got to the diner, he worked a full day at the roofing company. But that was his normal now. Gone were the days of classes and course work and football games and parties. He worked from dawn until well after dark. 

Darry looked over and watched Soda laughing loud enough for the whole diner to hear. That was why he was doing it. And it was more than reason enough. 

After the boys ate and tucked away Pony’s onion rings, Dally handed him a wad of bills. It was thicker than it should have been and Darry gave Dally a look. Dally didn’t acknowledge it, he was already trying to steal some of Steve’s leftover fries. 

Darry didn’t take charity and the Dallas Winston he knew before college would never hand money out like that. But Darry tucked the extra bills into his pocket as he headed to the cash register. Ever since Darry’d come back to Tulsa, something was off with Dally. Half the time he was alright with Darry and the other half he hated his guts.

Once it had finally turned ten, he met the boys outside. Dally and Steve were already in the back of the pick up and smoking like chimneys. Soda leaned against the passenger side and grinned when he saw Darry approaching.

“Good day?” Darry asked as he and Soda hopped into the cab. 

Soda nodded with a smile. He went on to talk about his day at the DX, Darry listened with a small smile. Man, Soda could really talk when he wanted to.

They were only two or three blocks away from home when all of a sudden, Dally pounded on the roof of the truck, yelling at Darry to pull over. Darry jerked the wheel to the right, nearly sending the car into the ditch. He threw his arm over Soda’s shoulders to stop him from slamming into the dashboard.

Before the truck was even parked, Steve and Dally were vaulting over the side of the truck and running into an alley. The brothers exchanged a look and quickly followed after them.

Dally was already shouting, “Hey, get off’a him!”

Over the sound of their feet on the ground, it was hard to hear, but when Darry entered the alley, he heard Ponyboy crying out. The kid was shouting for him and Soda and the rest of the gang with desperation as he tried to fight. There were socs on top of him, a blade held to his throat.

One soc had Ponyboy’s arms wrenched behind his back, another gripped his hair to yank his head back, the last had the blade to Pony’s chin. 

Darry saw red. 

That was something recent. He’d always been quick to anger, but after losing his parents it only seemed to get stronger. It only took a small spark for him to erupt in fire. 

The gang made quick work of the socs and sent them running. Dally and Steve were jeering at the socs’ retreating backs. 

Darry turned around to find Soda crouching down in front of Ponyboy, holding his sleeve to his chin to stay the bleeding. “Let me see,” Darry said as he took a knee in front of them. Ponyboy kept his eyes trained on the ground as Soda pulled his hand away. “You alright, Ponyboy? They didn’t hurt you too bad, did they?”

Pony shrugged with one shoulder, but Darry watched his face scrunch up at the way it pulled on what must have been a myriad of bruises under his shirt. “I’m okay.” There was a shake in his voice that Darry knew meant he was trying not to cry. 

He took a napkin out of his pocket and gave it to Pony who held it to his chin. 

Darry kept his eyes on his little brothers. Pony’s nose twitched and his mouth crooked to his left. He was about to cry. The second a tear started to drip down Pony’s cheek, Soda wrapped an arm around him, “Easy, Ponyboy. They ain’t gonna hurt no more.

It could have been so much worse. He could have been holding Ponyboy’s dead body, blood covering his hands. Now that he saw his brother was alright, that same anger came bubbling back up. 

“What the hell were you thinking, walking home by yourself?” Darry snapped. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a napkin he must have left in his pocket from work. He handed it to Pony and hauled him to his feet. 

Pony wiped his eyes with his shirt sleeve, “I was just comin’ home from the movies.”

Darry yanked a hand through his hair, “Well you shoulda brought someone with ya, you know better than that.” Ponyboy just leaned deeper against Soda. For his part, Soda met Darry’s eyes and gave him a subtle shake of the head. 

He sighed, “Get your ass in the car, both of ya.”

Soda wrapped an arm around Ponyboy’s shoulders and started to guide him to the truck.

Pony always had his head in the clouds, he drank stories like water. Sometimes Darry wished he’d keep his damn head firmly planted on his neck. 

No one in the gang slept over that night. Johnny gave Pony a long hug before heading out with Dally. Pony seemed real down after everything that happened, but when Soda gave him the onion rings, he perked right up. 

Soda and Ponyboy went to bed before too long. Darry just sat in his chair watching TV as he listened to them talk as they got ready for bed. Every so often, he could hear Pony laughing. 

Since their parents died, there’d been a current of static in Darry’s veins. It colored his every moment with worry and stress and fear. But hearing his brothers laugh, seeing them smile, it made it go away for just a second.

Once their bedroom door was shut, Darry was just about to go to bed himself when the phone rang. Darry sighed and plopped back down in his arm chair and picked up. “Hello?”

“Darry Curtis? How’re you doing, man?” It took him a second to place the voice. Trevor, one of his friends from U of O. He hadn’t heard from him since he left. 

Darry smiled, “Hey, Trev, what’s up?”

“Me and some of the guys are taking a road trip and we’re passing through Tulsa this weekend. Thought you might want to join since we’re passing through.”

A pit settled in Darry’s chest. He would love it more than anything to just take the weekend and shoot the shit. But he had responsibilities. He was working both days at the Dingo from open to close. 

Darry sighed, “I’m working this weekend.”

“Come on!” Trevor pleaded. “Just ditch, it’ll be fine.”

God what he wouldn’t give to be able to just ditch and have everything work out. But no, he had two kid brothers and a gaggle of teenagers to look after. Taking time off wasn’t an option. They were strapped for cash as it was. 

“I can’t, sorry, Trev. But if y’all want to grab lunch or something-”

“Nah, that’s alright,” Trevor cut him off. “It was nice to talk to you, man.” And the line went dead. 

Darry grinded his teeth together and forced a calming breath through his lungs. He put the phone back on the base.

[rimouskis]

rimouskis's 10 observations: betting on losing dogs and the swampening of ppg paints arena

after a foiled attempt to attend a NoA in 2019 (which sounds more nefarious than the truth of the matter [I am deeply too much of a coward to go to one of these alone]), Lo, Hark, I made it, baby. in an attempt to convey the experience, which was wonderful, I am doing a drive-by robbery of our favorite game recaps and stealing the format for my nefarious purposes (sharing photos and memories).

come, come, join me:

01. PPG Paints Arena Gets Shrek'd

I can now say I have been greeted at the arena doors by a juggler. that was the first surprise of many that night. the whole joint was honestly really impressively decorated. the event took place entirely on the first floor concourse, and even the bars were decorated to look vaguely new-orleans-y.

special lanterns and decorations were strung across the ceilings; there were enormous french-quarter-esque pillars erected in the halls; there was a fortune teller house with actors inside waving their arms very mysteriously over illuminated crystal balls; there was a woman gliding through the crowd with a skirt made out of servable and drinkable champagne flutes; there were people made out of disco balls wandering around; they flew a band in from new orleans to provide live music; mood lighting GALORE [more on this later].

I was super impressed. you can only do so much with an arena, and especially an arena concourse. they sunk serious time, effort, and undoubtedly money into transforming the arena into a gorgeous louisiana swampland. it was just so cool to see and worth gawking at.

02. Held Captive in the F.N.B Club

@ehghtyseven and I arrived almost-promptly a few minutes after 7. we were between a rock and a hard place: we wanted to take advantage of all the time we could, but also didn't want to be the first ones in. clearly there was nothing to worry about, though, because crowds were already moving through the gates. that was a balm to both of us, as we were kind of worried it'd be an intimate evening and I'd be forced to make smalltalk with penguins right and left.

("So, uh, what do you do?" sid would ask. I would stare at him, unsure how to explain the banalities of corporate life. I would walk away. He would be offput.)

we walked inside and immediately I got effusive compliments on both my shoes and my earrings. ah, I thought to myself, even the arena employees are in on it. they know how to butter up prospective donors to spend more money at charity events. but, in their defense: my shoes and earrings were both great, haha. we were handed some complimentary penguins-branded casino chips and sent on our merry way.

it was then that we went rogue. semi-accidentally. they weren't really herding us one way or another, you see, and as the night had only just begun, it wasn't too crowded yet. I looked at wendy. wendy looked at me. we mutually agreed that we should get a lay of the land. off we set.

we wandered around the concourse and looked at all the stations, abandoned and with signs saying play would begin at 8. we then ducked into the captain morgan club (which is one of the two clubs at the arena that normally are limited to ticketholders for those seats) to take a peek. it was made even more pirate-y than usual, I can only assume, and we got in line for drinks. the line did not move. (the poor folks staffing the bar needed reinforcements). we decided to keep moving and looped around the other half of the concourse to try our luck at the F.N.B. club. somehow that line was worse? penguins, please give more of your bartenders overtime to work charity events?

eh, we thought, we'll just keep walking around.

nope. no can do. they were herding us into the clubs like heifers in a cow chute. and, in fact, something dire was about to befall us:

03. The Penguin Parade

have you ever had a bunch of famous/famous-ish people trotted out in front of you like kindergarteners being shepherded across a suburban street? no? let me illustrate it.

iceburgh emerges with a bejeweled new orleans parasol above his head. out come colby and dan. I think colby is, like, roughly four drinks deep. maybe five. he and dan get through a very awkwardly scripted "thank you for giving us money:) please give us more:)" speech and then the processional of penguins begins.

they're announced in ascending numerical order, which of course leaves sid for last (no three years superleague will win geno that honor here). they all wander out and stare up into the stands, where we donors look down upon them like emperors at bloodied gladiators in the coliseum. I hold out my thumb and point down, signaling my displeasure. sid is immediately taken out back and s—

no no I'm joking. we all clap and woooo at them. geno spins in circles as he enters so he can wave at everyone, but he does it in a way that feels DISTINCTLY put-upon and tired. you know how some pets absolutely know they're being made fun of when you put stupid outfits on them? how they'll give you that deadpan look that says "I know what you are doing to me, it is cruel, but I have no choice but to weather it" ?

geno was that pet. long-suffering, exhausted, wants to go aggressively smack a card table instead of wander about in his special special jersey.

one of the new owners (from FSG) gets up to say some words. he's a horrendous speaker, so I retain none of it, but I suppose if you're a billionaire you don't need to be eloquent or engaging. #eattherich. he tells everyone what some of the various players will be doing tonight around the concourse, and he throws in a very weak joke when he gets to explaining how geno will be manning one of the blackjack tables.

"and geno," this offensively wealthy man says, "try to keep it PG tonight."

I desperately, painfully wish I had a photo of the expression geno made. with the jumbotron camera trained on him, geno gives this man the most DISDAINFUL FROWN I have seen on his face. ever. he was NOT IMPRESSED. this man was NOT FUNNY. geno is a WORKING CLASS, BLUE COLLAR MAN and will not stand for billionaires saying he has to keep it family-friendly at a 21-and-up event! viva la revolución, baby.

sid, meanwhile, is making goo-goo eyes at jeff and giggling all over the place. also a few drinks deep, methinks. after a bit, the players are mercifully released from the grasp of the arena lights and flee back into the locker room, likely to take a few more shots to get ready to mingle for two hours straight.

we, the unmerciful coliseum audience, are freed from our club.

it's time to party.

04. Dan the Man

wendy and I made a break for it, finally let loose from our enclosure. we darted away and moved past some evil looking betting game being set up [more on that later], through a section of food that we couldn't eat [more on THAT later], and finally took up our posts at a cocktail table to get our bearings.

this was when we realized we'd put ourselves right by the elevators.

there were VIPs in attendance; they were schmoozing in the actual club seats a level above us for an hour before we plebeians were let inside. they began spilling out of the elevators in their evening gowns and suits, and wendy realized there were penguins among them.

we watched jason run off, and then drew, and then others. they scattered to the wind to their assigned games for the night. we tittered and surreptitiously watched. I complimented two different women's outfits (#girlpower #girlsgirl). we turned and realized dan and colby were posted up at the bar behind us.

dan caught us looking. wendy waved; dan waved back. thus our interaction blossomed.

when we went over to talk to him, he was incredibly nice and NOT very trickster godlike. he's miles-less confusing when he's not asking interview questions. and he's incredibly personable! he tried to get us excited to see connor mcdavid, though, which is something an evil trickster god would attempt at an event with sidney crosby in attendance. so perhaps I can be convinced after all.

05. FRENEMIES: Craps Edition

that evil betting game? yeah, that's craps. shitty name for a game, if you ask me. the last time I was in a casino, I was 16 (don't ask) so I had no idea what was going on. nonetheless, when we heard loud voices, we were drawn close like moths to a flame.

that flame was the not-so-dulcet tones of one mr. jason zucker and one mr. bryan rust. these two goofballs were "running" the craps table, by which I mean jason had been armed with the dice stick and they were being heavily coached by who I could only assume was an employee from rivers casino, lol.

it made me feel a little better that said employee was gently cajoling some people on the other side of the table. "you ready to play yet? got it figured out?" he asked. no, man. no one gets this without a 15-step breakdown. stop making me do math. why does this board say COME in huge red letters? what the fuck is a COME bet? what the fuck is a DON'T COME bet? is this a sex game? why are jason and rusty hosting a sex game?

here's jason catching me sneaking a photo of him hosting a sex game. my middle name is subtlety.

06. A Crisis of Sexuality and Chutzpah

I'm a seasoned penguins-watcher, okay? I've lived here for years, I've been to more games and practices than I can count, I've held doors for them in restaurants and walked past them in bars, and I like to pretend I have a scrap or two of composure about interacting with the players.

ha ha. hoo. wa ha ha.

so, that sid guy, right? crazy. he's, like, just some guy. just a dude. just a funky little guy.

he's also the most handsome man I've ever laid eyes on.

I can't quite articulate what my brain did when we came upon sid's Wheel O' Fun, which he was manning alone the first time we swung by (the second time jake had joined him after being freed from his shift at the milkshake factory making jake shakes [like for real]).

he was all smiles and was working the crowd (and there WAS a huge crowd around him) effortlessly. he'd lean in across his Protective Barrier of Folding Tables and take photos with folks between spins. as the night went on he'd even place people's bets for them as the crowd grew deeper. he was furiously chomping on a piece of gum the entire time (his masseter muscles have to be unbelievable).

what really threw me is that he isn't a big guy. he doesn't come off as large at all. objectively I know he's sturdy, but... those hockey pads and oversized jerseys really help you overestimate their size.

he was a crowd favorite for good reason. funny, was a good sport the whole evening, engaging and friendly, has a well-deserved air of confidence about him. he's got chutzpah. I, uh, didn't talk to him though. if he looked in my direction I immediately became preoccupied with something very important elsewhere, like a nearby woman's hat or which chips I was placing on the table. I couldn't handle it, I'm so sorry. he's really beautiful. ugh. who am I. is this what I'm reduced to. what siren song does he sing that enraptures me so. what's wrong with me. what's wrong with him.

weirdo. ugh. <3

07. PPG Paints is for Carnivorous Beasts Only

listen I don't know what I expected when the theme of the night was mardi gras. like, what about new orleans cuisine screams "vegetarian"? nothing! so I was not surprised when the food selections were everything from shrimp gumbo to jambalaya (chicken) to ALLIGATOR (!!!!) and nary a vegetarian option in sight.

disappointed but not surprised! I did have a few tiny beignets (good) and a slice of king cake (meh) but I was mostly running on the poptart I'd eaten before the event, lmao.

this is not new with the arena; ever since The Yard's arena location closed, vegetarian dining has been dire there for games. their pizza is bad, don't get it. in fact, next time you come to a game, don't get arena food. do yourself the service of eating beforehand. emporio never fails and if you need to be closer, go to moonlit burgers. up your game, ppg paints!

also since I had, like, one RC cola all night and not a drop of alcohol, I probably didn't recoup the cost of my ticket lol. dear pens offer me a discount next time I'M A CHEAP DATE I PROMISE

08. Evgeni Malkin's Blackjack Table

I had quietly made a rule for myself.

if I was committing financially to this event, if I was going to the trouble and stretching my budget and going all in, I had to go all in.

I had to play at evgeni malkin's blackjack table. I just had to. there was no way I couldn't. we came upon his table for the second time that night and posted up at a corner to watch, just like we had the first time we passed him. I eyed the players and waited for someone to give up a seat as I tried to remember the details of the "How to Play Blackjack" youtube tutorial I'd watched an hour earlier.

(I remembered, like, two rules. memory bad + star struck = bad combo).

the thing about geno, you see, is that he's a performer at heart. the drama? that's just him, doll. that's his personality. he was a dramatic dealer. he pretended to steal chips. he was LIGHTNING QUICK at mental math. he'd slap down a card and immediately move through with confidence. probably a solid 30% of it was unfounded, but it came off as both professional and intense... and still approachable, because he was being a little intentionally goofy.

he was also directly under one of the colored light beams they had set up in mardi gras colors around the arena. listen, learn some color theory with me: yellow light is SHIT for seeing colors. poor geno couldn't tell one chip from the next and kept having to squint at them to figure out what was up. it played into the goofiness very well. he rolled with it.

he kept a very good energy at the table. all the attendees were getting a kick out of him and the game, and geno ran it as a proper game. he'd reward you if you won, but he'd take your chips if you lost. his huge hands moved the cards clumsily. he sometimes threw them at people. y'know. Just Geno Things.

a chair freed up. I hesitated. someone else sat down. fuck. I continued my vigilant watch. I needed to do this, I reminded myself. I'd never forgive myself if I went to NoA and didn't play at geno's table. WHO DOES THAT? not me. no way.

a second chair freed up. I pounced.

I was in.

and, fuck, now I had to remember how to play blackjack.

he dealt me my first card. I looked at it with a healthy mixture of fear and curiosity. he dealt me my second card. I added them together. I tried to figure out if I should ask for more cards. sure, why not?

wrong. I went over 21. bust. I lose. I've just lost in front of evgeni malkin. that is the correct way of the world, I SHOULD in fact lose in front of (and to) evgeni malkin, but I couldn't go out like that. no way. I stayed put in my seat. deal me more cards, dealer. I have something to prove.

he was also kind of sweet, because I was absolutely the only person under 30, if not under 40, at this table, and I think they could smell my inexperience lol. he sort of nodded at me to make a move the next round and keep adding cards. I heeded it. people at the table started making noise. something was happening. I didn't really know what, but there was excitement in the air. I "held" instead of "hit" when it felt right. geno continued on. the man next to me had a bust. geno did something with his own cards, and WOW!

I won the round!

people literally congratulated me. it was deeply undeserved. I didn't know what the hell I was doing. even in retrospect I don't know what I did. but whatever it was was good, and I earned my first chip. hallelu!

I'm not a betting gal, but I know that you cash out when you're up. on that high note, I got up and took my leave. I'd done it. I'd played at geno's table. I'd WON at geno's table. the world was my oyster etc.

so, here is me [just out of frame] getting a smile out of geno as he nudges me along at blackjack <3

[photo credit to wendy <3]

09. America's Sweetheart, Brian Dumoulin

the night was winding down, and wendy had been very conservative with her chips, whereas I'd blown through mine [this is why I don't gamble, kids]. we need to find a table, I told her. we had bets to make!

and, serendipitously, dumo was hanging out at a somewhat poorly-attended table at that very moment.

dumo was so great. he lacked any of the confidence geno had at blackjack but more than made up for it with his sweet easygoing conversation and a truly great smile. he was CHARMING. like, I genuinely felt he was interested in talking to attendees and having a good time. the vibes were fabulous. I know I've been a little harsh on him hockey-wise this season, but wow, the babygirl truthers got me with this one. he's a goddamn sweetheart. long live dumo, who winced every time he beat you at blackjack.

10. Kris Letang's School for Beautiful Women

after exhausting our chips, saying farewell to dumo, and watching geno get dragged by security with a firm grip on his arm away from fans wanting photos as soon as the clock struck 10 [the official end of the event, because geno is a union man who doesn't work overtime], we wandered the slowly-deserting halls.

geno may have been dragged away, and sid may have been gone from his post, but kris? oh, buddy, you were NOT dragging him from his blackjack table. no sir. he had games to win, you see, and judgemental faces to make at his players, and women to charm.

so, so many women.

his table had a higher ratio of women to men than I'd seen at any other, lol. and they were all having a BALL as he was holding court. he raked one high better over the coals with pleasure as he took her chips. you can be the most beautiful woman in the arena, but kris letang will be more beautiful and will beat you at blackjack.

he was clearly great entertainment, as both kappy and POJ came to watch him work. (and to fetch him drinks). he, as all the boys, honestly, was an excellent schmoozer. they're very good at this. I think they know they work in professional entertainment. I didn't have a bad or sideways interaction all night.

it was a fabulous night. I had so much fun. the penguins did a wonderful job, the players were all lovely, and I also won a signed jersey, so hey, everyone was a winner.

brava, fellas. make sure to pay geno overtime for his post-10 o'clock photo ops.