#even got a bad review about that recently
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shopwitchvamp · 1 year ago
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might as well start warning ya'll now...
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jimmyspades · 10 months ago
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"Now kindly be out the door and take that wagon away from here. And godspeed to you." THE HOMESMAN (2014)
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lizeon · 1 year ago
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man i dont know why i didnt go back and watch vanguard's debuts before now i had no idea flayon had a whole-ass animation at the beginning of his
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drchucktingle · 8 months ago
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this was a comment on one of my post from a recent live event. it was photos of joyful queer buckaroos celebrating together and proving love is real through creation, community, and a trot of love. most important I AM LITERALLY IN PHOTO AS A REAL FLESH AND BLOOD HUMAN
it got me thinking about how DEEP AND VICIOUS the irony poisoning of these early internet communities goes. the way buds like this cannot fathom someone just being a sincere person unrelated to their OWN old days of cynical posting. it is fascinating, and i will admit, sad too
despite a DECADE of work, countless live events, 350 tinglers written well before large language models were a thing, there are still people who cannot imagine someone like me could exist. it is a strange place to be. not just part of me, but my entire EXISTENCE is often gatekept
it is easy to say ‘well chuck your art IS strange’ but honestly i think it is more than that. magical realism is common. there are stories about dinosaurs and bigfeet and unicorns. this scoundrel reaction is about two unspoken things: my art is neurodivergent, and my art is queer
heres the thing: I WILL BE FINE. what concerns me is not an issue of MYSELF, it is a concern for the other young outsider buckaroos who see comments like this one and think ‘is that what they will say if i express MY unique way? will i be dehumanized like this at every turn?'
i will be honest, i cannot say that WONT happen, but i CAN say this: for as deep as this irony poisoning goes, it is slowly dying. the way i was treated at the start of my career is LIGHTYEARS DIFFERENT from the way i am treated now. there is a massive shift towards sincerity
BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY. to young artists trotting up, the things that i am harassed over and doubted for and made fun of for are NOT tangental to what has made me successful, THEY ARE LITERALLY THE SAME THINGS THAT HAVE MADE ME SUCCESSFUL. YES I AM STRANGE, WHAT OF IT?
the things that you tuck away for fear of a review that says ‘there is a PROBLEM with this art because it has always been done another way’ THOSE ARE YOUR SUPERPOWERS. the gatekeepers want you to tuck those parts of yourself away because THEY TUCKED AWAY THOSE PART OF THEMSELVES
never forget that your unique way is PURE UNFILTERED 100 PERCENT ROCKET FUEL. it will stick out (maybe, if you are lucky, scoundrels will even say that someone like you could never actually be real), but sticking out isnt so bad when you are waving the flag of love.
in fact, when youre waving the flag of love, sticking out is pretty dang cool. what are flags for, after all? LOVE IS REAL BUCKAROOS. thank you for reading, and if you enjoyed this long post then please consider preordering BURY YOUR GAYS.
LETS TROT
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itsbenedict · 16 days ago
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That's Right: It's Another Hot Take About That Dead Healthcare CEO
The websites are abuzz with debate on the utilitarian calculus of whether some guy getting shot was a good thing. What are the odds that the assassination will scare the horrible greedy health insurance companies into changing their ways and fixing the system? Is it worth killing someone over? Will the fear of being blasted by some guy with stylishly-engraved bullets put the fat cats in line? Or will their greed win out over their fear, leaving the nightmarish system unchanged?
Well, what if that was totally irrelevant?
You may have seen a graph that looks like this:
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I've seen a few of these going around. These are the rates at which various health insurance companies say "no, you don't get the money" when someone says "hey I need money for this medical thing". UHC, the one whose CEO got shot, is notably really bad in this respect. They've got algorithmic claims denials and all kinds of nasty things that people don't like. All that money they're saving on paying out on claims must be making them rich, right? Let's look at their own financial reports:
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Whoa! Big numbers! Six percent looks like a small number, but multiply and they make like thirty billion dollars doing this! That's a lot, right?
Well hang on. They're an insurance company. We can roughly model their profit as the amount people pay them for insurance, minus the amount they have to pay out for claims. Let's look at 2023: simple subtraction, their expenses are $339.2 billion. We simplify other overhead and assume that's all claims. So... that represents those 67% of claims they don't reject. What happens if they approve all the claims?
Multiply: $506.3 billion. They don't have that kind of money. They have $371.6 billion in revenue. So okay- they have to deny some claims. That's pretty normal. But let's pretend they're extremely afraid of assassins now and want to be completely non-greedy: they're okay making zero profit. They make $32.4 billion in profit- how many otherwise-rejected claims can they now afford to approve?
...uh. Well, they can afford to pay out, at most, 73.4% of claims. Still a denial rate of 26.6%, higher than most of their competitors. Not a huge improvement. And in reality, they can't afford to make 0 profit- a company that's making 0 profit is a company investors pull out of immediately, leaving it to collapse, because they can make more money investing in the ones that aren't as afraid of assassins. They've got to at least hover around the same profit margin as their competitors. Which is...
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That's average profit margins for the whole US healthcare industry. So, okay, if we match those other companies' profit margins and try to hover around 3-4%... uh. Wait. Hang on. Here's another graph with more recent data on UHC specifically:
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Wait, they're still just making that little 3-4% profit margin, even with all these shady automated denials- so how are those other companies doing better on claims? They're obviously not less greedy. They must be making more money somehow, right?
(My guess, sight-unseen, would be that they charge more for their plans, or offer less comprehensive coverage, or use a network of less expensive providers, or other things that make the amount they have to pay out smaller and the amount they're taking in larger. I don't feel like doing a comprehensive consumer review of what every insurance provider's healthcare plans are, but there's always these tradeoffs to make. UHC seems to be offering the tradeoff of "better or cheaper care, on paper" for "but there's a higher risk of getting denied", which is one annoying tradeoff among many.)
Okay But That's Enough Graphs
"Yeah yeah yeah shut up about profit margins and coverage tradeoffs. Is it a good thing that the CEO got shot or not?"
Well, their profit margin at the time he was shot was 3.63%. A company can't survive making 0 or less, so whatever effect fear of assassination has on UHC's greediness, it is going to be no larger than 3.63%.
They may learn the lesson that having their denial rates too high will get them assassinated. Accordingly, they may decrease that metric- by charging higher premiums, kicking expensive doctors out of their network, or reducing their stated coverage. They will not (because they cannot, without ceasing to exist as a company) simply start approving more claims without squeezing their customers elsewhere. They legally cannot do that. No matter how afraid you make the CEOs, you cannot make them afraid to a degree larger than their profit margin.
Well What The Fuck, Then
Like, what, are we supposed to accept that things will literally never get better and that this horrorshow is the best we can hope for? That's some bullshit! If we can't scare the CEOs, who can we scare?
Man I dunno.
Like, for some reason healthcare is stupid expensive! People can't afford to pay for healthcare without insurance- it's like thousands of dollars for basic procedures! Why? Maybe...
Doctors inflate their prices 10x because they know insurance companies will use complicated legal tricks to only pay 10% of the asking price, and this is a constantly escalating price war that serves mainly to fuck over the uninsured
Drug manufacturers and health technology companies fight tooth and nail to maintain monopolies over treatment, so they can charge gazillions to make back the gazillions they had to spend on FDA approval trials
(Trials those same companies lobby to keep necessary because the more money you have to pay for FDA approval, the harder it is for competitors to enter the market since they don't already have the gazillions)
Doctors operate as a cartel and lobby to gatekeep access to medical training so that they can keep doctoring a prestigious and exclusive position, and keep their own salaries high enough to pay their medical school debt and make them rich afterwards- leading to a (profitable) shortage of medical professionals
There is no limit to how expensive things can get but how much people are physically capable of paying, because frequently the alternative to "pay a ridiculous amount for healthcare" is "die", and so healthcare is subject to near-infinitely inelastic demand
Also like a thousand other equally annoying and complicated perverse incentives and stupid situations
This is the human condition: Shit is annoying and complicated and difficult to fix, pretty much 100% of the time forever. A few bullets in some fucko's back isn't really going to make a dent.
(But like, sure, fuck that guy. He probably sucked, as do the hundred other identical suits in line to replace him. Just... don't expect this to help.)
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themeraldee · 4 months ago
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Hii can you do one where the reader rejects homelander because she’s married? He gets mad and obsessive??
Thank you for the ask! So originally I wasn't gonna do requests because I'm very particular about what strikes my fancy. But I'm nothing if not a people pleaser so your request got my head popping up with ideas as I've not really explored the 'loving someone to a fault' part of Homelander where things take a wild turn. So this is my humble attempt - hope you enjoy!
(Also I spat this out fairly quickly so it's not very well reviewed)
The Price of Love
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[Masterlist]
18+ Only | 1.7k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Early Season 2. Voyeurism. Dark themes but nothing very specific. Homelander being his own warning. Mention of canon-level violence.
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“What the fuck do you mean you’re married?!” Homelander sputters, caught totally off guard by your admission. His body language frazzled, his arms expressing confusion just as much as his words as his presence towers over you. 
You’ve been Ashley’s secretary for a few months now. At first he took no interest in the presence of yet another busybody without a name that was surely going to crack under the pressure and either leave or fuck up beyond repair resulting in your resignation. But no, you’ve proven yourself to be reliable, responsible and most importantly you’ve got a fucking spine in you. You don’t cower in fear, shake when you talk to him or let yourself get talked into a corner. He likes that. He really likes that. 
His preference for you has become so obvious that Ashley made you his go-to. Any news, good or bad, just went straight through you. And somehow, Homelander didn’t mind hearing that he dropped a point or two when it came from your lips.
That’s why he felt so blindsided by your outright rejection when he asked you out. What the fuck do you mean married?! 
“I mean I’m unavailable.” Homelander tightens his hand into a fist now that his arms fell back to rest next to his thighs. He hides the lapse of control behind his cape as he clasps both hands behind his back. At this point the pose has become a bit of a defense mechanism, nobody can touch or hurt him when he’s playing a hero. It’s a whole lot different when he pours his heart out to some fucking assistant just to get it stomped into the ground. 
“You’re not wearing a ring.” His tone is quiet, sharp. He nods his head towards the hand that’s currently clutching a stack of papers, the last thing you were meant to bring over before you clocked out. In Homelander’s eyes, it was the perfect time to ask you out. He’d take you out the same night. Michelin star restaurant, booked out just for the two of you. But no, you had to ruin his whole plan.
“I know, I’m sorry. I oftentimes leave it at home. I worry about it getting damaged or lost.” You clutch your papers closer to you, Homelander’s eyes lock onto your empty ring finger. It’s like you’re trying to hide it from him. The skin where your ring would be sat isn’t even smoothed out or marked in any way. So either it’s a recent marriage or you barely wear your ring as is. Homelander scoffs to himself, what kind of marriage is it if you’re not willing to shout about it from the rooftops. 
“I just—what? You’ve been fucking coming onto me for ages!” He wheezes out in part anger, part embarrassment. His eyes widen at first before squinting, his eyebrows furrowing with the action. In his head he replays all your interactions and he’s not fucking stupid. He’s the Homelander. There’s no one who can read people better than him.
“Sorry? I haven’t, or I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t trying to lead you on.” You take a step back. As much as this whole time Homelander’s been more than tolerating your presence, enjoying and looking forward to it even, now he’s acting like a whole kind of different animal. He takes one step in. Part of him relishes in the way your heart speeds up at the loud thud of his boot taking the one step closer to you. The other part of him doesn’t want you to be scared of him, just like you haven’t been this whole time, you’re meant to be his! 
He raises an eyebrow. 
“Lead me on?” 
“You know, make you think I’m interested when I’m not.” He nearly laughs. Not interested? Not fucking interested?! Give him a break. He might not have many experiences with the most genuine of relationships but he knows attraction when he sees one. He’s not stupid enough to mistake your professional kindness for attraction, it’s more than that. He’s sure of it. Your pulse still races anytime you’re in his vicinity, your pupils dilate, you smile all flustered and sweet when he pays you a compliment and there’s definitely times he’s managed to make you wet just by saying or doing the right thing. Someone who’s not interested wouldn’t be reacting like that. 
He pinches the bridge of his nose shaking his head. “Get out.” His voice rings loud and clear in the empty room. 
“Yes, sir. I’m really so sorry.” His teeth grind at the way you call him ‘sir’. A habit he’s weaned you off a long time ago. Yet there you go again, reverting back to factory settings as if you two didn’t have a whole load of history behind you. He watches you scamper off, the intrusive, violent part of him has an intense urge to laser you in half for making him feel this way.
But no, he knows there’s another way. First, he needs to get this energy out one way or another. And the last thing he wants to do is hurt you. 
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Homelander waits till nightfall before flying around just to get his frustration out. First Madelyn, now you. What is it with women being dishonest with him! But no no no, you’re nothing like her. You do love him. You have to. He knows it. He can feel it. He just needs to nudge you in the right direction.
His thoughts get disrupted by a shrill scream coming from the alleyway below him. He pauses in the air, watching the situation with little initial interest. He lands on the building ledge where a man has a screaming woman pinned against the wall. He notices the light reflecting against the switchblade the criminal presses to her neck.
Well look at that, he can get his frustrations out and he’s gonna look like a hero. This night might just be turning around for him.
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He leaves the bloody carnage behind, shaking some of the blood and viscera off his suit, bloody droplets hitting his boots instead. He’s so used to the copper tang of blood, at this point breathing it in is as natural to him as air. He’s just not particularly fond of the mess it creates.
But finally, after some physical relief, he grins to himself and with a clear head he can devise a plan on how to win you over. He’s the Homelander, who the fuck else could be more worthy of your love? 
Well… He’s about to find out.
Homelander takes off into the air, shooting up up up, until he finds a happy altitude where the air is just about getting thin, but more importantly where he’s unlikely to be recorded or photographed at this time of night.
He lands on the rooftop of the building opposite where you and your spouse reside. Bleugh. Your fucking spouse. Just the thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He was being patient with you. Wanted to take it the traditional way. Just like normal humans you’d meet at work, get chatting, get comfortable and start dating. So he gave you the benefit of your privacy. Wanted to see you naked for the first time when you’d undress for him. All pretty and sensual, giving him a good show. Now it’s biting him in the ass. If he wasn’t so chivalrous with you he would have long known that he’d need to get rid of the obstacle before he’d even ask you out. 
He watches through the building walls. He needs to see who, or what, has you so whipped that you wouldn’t immediately offer to get divorced just to go on a date with him. At the very least it better be some good sex.
He scans your meager one bedroom apartment. Your spouse is sound asleep in your shared bed but you’re nowhere to be seen. It’s not even that late in the night. Wouldn’t happily married couples be fucking through the night like rabbits at this hour? 
He lights up when he lands on the sight of you in your bathroom. Finally, some fucking reward. It’s the least he deserves after all that he’s been through. You’re submerged in your bathtub, the water level hitting halfway up your chest. You have the most pleased expression on your face, pure delight as you rest your head against the rim of the tub, eyes closed all dreamy. 
Homelander palms the front of his pants, feeling his cock immediately fill out at finally getting glimpses of your naked self. It’s only then he notices that you’re not just relaxing. No. Your hand is holding the shower head right in between your legs, letting the water pressure light up all your sensitive nerves. 
Then it clicks. He grins like he hasn’t in a long while. The pure satisfaction of being right. You’re not satisfied. You can’t be. It’s obvious you desperately need to escape this situation. You need him. 
He carelessly unfastens his pants, surprising even himself that he doesn’t manage to rip them in half as he eagerly grips his hard cock. He strokes it harder than he ever has before, the blood on his glove just easing the glide of the harsh pace he sets himself. Homelander almost chokes on air as he watches you arch your back and whimper quietly, clearly hiding your little indulgent fantasy from your spouse. 
He wishes he could tell you it’s alright, your spouse is dead asleep. They won’t notice. They clearly don’t care. He does. And that’s all that matters, you have his attention. You have an audience of one. 
He doesn’t care what the reason is. There’s no reason in his book that would justify your spouse leaving you this dissatisfied that you have to get yourself off behind closed doors and not with their help. 
He’s so worked up, riding the roller coaster of wildly contrasting emotions, from heart-break to euphoria, that it doesn’t take long for him to feel breathless, panting as he strokes himself to the image of you all wet, pleasured and relaxed. What really does him in, unexpectedly is the whispering plea leaving your lips. ‘Homelander.’
And just like that he cums hard, not caring where his load ends up, his grin never leaving his face as he watches you reach your sweet, sweet release.
He has to have you.
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[Part 2]
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Taglist (you can add yourself to be notified anytime I publish a new Homelander story)
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paper-mario-wiki · 1 year ago
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Hey I know your clown days are behind you and everything, but I'm still curious if you've got any opinions on The Amazing Digital Circus?
same thing everyone else does i suppose, that its fun and well made.
to be additive to the discussion instead of just saying positive stuff you've already heard, i'll levy a little critique against it, bearing in mind that i do so with positive, constructive intent.
i feel as though in recent times we've been oversaturated with stories and media with too grand a focus on the characters instead of interesting concepts. i think that the character design in the amazing digital circus is colorful and neat, but in the past 3 years how many "it's cutesy looking, but it's actually about existential terror and the cute characters go through trauma, oh no!" gimmicks have you seen in stories? personally ive seen quite a few.
i feel as though creatives are pushed too much to make a marketable face first and foremost, because lingering eyes are in high demand for artwork online these days. if someone is going to move on quick, which is going to be the case with the majority of people, it's much more likely that someone will find it easier to remember a cool design for a character instead of an entire unique sequence of events. that means story-driven things are either made to be more shallow to give more space for character moments, or have a much smaller chance for having their work succeed.
i do not think this is indicative of some mass decline in creative originality, or even the fault of the creatives who make the work. like i said, i thought it was a lot of fun and gave it a small positive review on twitter a few days ago. Gooseworx, as well as the rest of the team who made it, clearly cared for this project. what im talking about is a symptom of the larger issue that is the black-box algorithms that have desolated social networks, and create bad media consumption habits in people. though i wont lie to you and say i havent grown to resent the symptom too.
so to answer your question more succinctly, i dont really think of it that much at all. ive seen this one already.
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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 6 months ago
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A Changed Future (2) | Yandere Isekai
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Part 1
It’s so irritating for Haruko 
He remembers how he used to try and make noise in the beginning, when the same thing happened to him
But even without your struggling, he’s got more obstacles than he thought
“Tch all these guys getting in our way, maybe I should just kill them.”
“Haru no!”
“Why not, I'm sure you did it when I was trapped.”
“That…that doesn’t make it right!”
“So? Who cares about right when we’re in love? I think it was you who said that.”
Either way with or without your approval he’s figuring out a way to take down his newfound rivals
He kind of hopes they are as ambitious as the friends who recently abandoned him
Too bad they aren’t
In the original story, the crazy thing about the protagonist was that despite their obsessive love for Haruko and general disregard for those who got in the way of that was otherwise really inspiring
Breaking away from their elitist family for their violent morals ironic right
Joining the workforce, easily rising because of their work ethic and intelligence
And all that while beautifully evading a less-than-clean detective trying to pin the blame of random crimes on them
Which of course got them their own male leads attempting to pursue their affections
Always doomed to fall short because of circumstance or the protagonist suavely crushing their hopes to gush about their love
It was a uniquely terrible tragedy for their characters to be written this way
That’s what the random reviewers would say
Which is why you did feel inclined to maybe entertain them a bit more than the original protagonist would have ever done
“Since you are quitting….I hope you’ll let me treat you to dinner. For all your hard work of course.”
“Uh sure but I have to be home by sunset.”
“That’s a shame then we’ll have to—Wait. Did you say you would?”
“Yeah, are you okay?”
“YES! Ahem I mean yes I’m fine! I look forward to a nice evening together!”
Unknowingly furthering the obsession the protagonist was barely keeping at bay
“So mind telling me what you ordered that day at the restaurant?”
“I think it was my favorite dish there called the berry delight but I’m not sure. I think they changed the menu since I was there.”
“Why not confirm it later today? That way you can tell me if you did see the missing classmate of yours.”
“But I don’t remember exactly where I sat–”
“Then we’ll just have to sit in every spot until it rings a bell.”
“I don’t know if that’s–”
“Don’t fret. I’ll be paying but there's no way we’ll get to try every table. We’ll have to come back multiple times.”
“Okay…”
“No worries I’m sure you’ll get tired of eating there so we’ll go to some other places to give you a rest. Anywhere you wanted to try?”
You’d be foolish to think you could escape them by agreeing to Haruko’s entrapping of you 
It only takes a day of you not responding to messages that they both eagerly awaiting you at your door
And after the first few times, Haruko shooing them away they begin to get resourceful
“Yeah bud nice try their still out.”
“Hm well say that to my lovely warrant right here.”
“Wait! H-h-hold on! Geez I-i’ll go get them now but they are not going to be happy with you!”
It really doesn’t get better as the guard against the protagonist’s secrets begins to be let down as interested parties slowly make their way in
You don’t have the same ruthlessness or ability to deceive as the protagonist you took over for 
On top of that you never actually read the webtoon so you’ll be left trying to piece together whatever few weak points the protag has
Where if you hadn’t already started to make your pursuers interested all those faults are fuel for their agenda
“It’s so unfortunate that the company can sign off on your absence during this suspicious crime but I don’t mind editing records if you wouldn’t mind spending time with me. That way I can vet your personality myself. Over wine of course!”
It’s overwhelming constantly being pulled in 3 directions 
What’s worse you’re completely oblivious when the latest obstacle in the protag’s perfect life finally makes themselves known
“Hello darling, it took us years to find you but we did it!”
“Don’t look like that come give your Mama a hug!”
Part 3: Coming Soon
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gilverrwrites · 1 month ago
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would love to hear more of ur thoughts of jason... ANY jason thoughts, virgin, getting pegged, dom, on top on bottom, angry, emotional, loving, clingy...
any jason thoughts are appreciate tenfold pls i love the way you write its so sensual and enjoyable (//ω//)
Virgin!Jason/Sex Worker!Reader, 1.9K Words Why thank you anon, you're too kind. It’s funny you sent this in because I have been thinking about Jason a lot recently. Bit of a an odd one actually, I’ve been thinking about how easily he could get hooked on OFs or something similar. Stay with me here...
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‘Jason loves cars, and girls, and getting into fights…’
The problem is, ever since he came back, he doesn’t know how to talk to or act around women.
Think about it. He was a teenage boy when he died, still going through puberty, never truly finding closure on all those changes. Now he’s a man.
A man with emotions, and desires, and urges that he doesn’t understand and has no idea how to satiate. The not knowing makes him nervous, angry even.
The first and only time Roy tried the “Have you met Jay?” line it was painful. Like giving water to a hydrophobe. Dying of thirst, wanting it so bad, but his hands are shaking, he can barely even make eye contact, let alone hold a conversation. Or touch her. Man, he wanted to touch her, she had such a pretty smile and glowing skin and the most brilliant laugh. He wound up muttering a ‘sorry, bye.’ To the floor and walking out. When Roy finally caught up, he got one hell of an earful. Yelling was all Jay could do not to start throwing punches he'd regret later. Roy had only had the best of intentions after all.
It was Dick who’d mentioned that the posters of half-naked women splayed across car bonnets or dowsed in lite beer might be a bit distasteful. He’d wanted to argue, if they’re bad, why do they sell them? But he was smarter than that really, and Dick was right, if he ever did bring a girl home, he wouldn’t want her to feel uncomfortable. Though the mattress without a bed frame and the lack of amenities might do that anyway. Regardless, he takes them down and throws them out along with a stack of vintage Playboys from his youth. He’ll rely on the words of D. H. Lawrence, Cleland and the likes for that sort of thing.
And just reading works, for a while. But there are itches books just can’t scratch, and like hell is he mortified himself trying to talk to women in public again. He’d almost gotten up the courage once since the debacle with Roy.
At the library, looking for classics and checking out their damaged clearance sale. He’d noticed her the moment he’d entered, such a sweet, sharp woman, teaching seniors how to use computers. He’d lingered for a while, until the class was over, determined to make small talk with her while getting his books checked out, but then he remembered what he was checking out. Immediately he was flooded with doubt. She'd think he was a perv. He put his books on the put-back trolly and left without a word.
That same night, feeling sorry for himself is when he falls down the rabbit hole of social media. Scrolling endlessly through post after post of girls on Instagram. His own page consisted of only a faceless gym selfie and the engine of a bike he’d been restoring, but he followed a lot of accounts. Book reviewers, muscle car enthusiasts, musicians. It wasn’t purely coincidental that most of those content creators were women.
His heart jumps out of his chest when he gets a notification, that doesn’t happen often, and usually it’s from Dick sending him funny dog videos, or Steph tagging him memes but this one is a ‘follow back’.
He’d been following you for a while, liking all your posts and occasionally commenting. Nothing flirty, he didn’t wanna seem like one of those creeps saying gross, inappropriate shit, but that often resulted in him sounding lame for praising the high amount of protein in your home-cooked meal, or something else mundane. Today he’s pointed out how nice the clouds in the back of your group selfie looked but apparently that was enough to get your attention.
You like his two photos and drop him a message. “Hadn’t noticed but you’re right. Those clouds were very pretty.”
‘Not as pretty as you.’ He types out then quickly deletes it. You were very pretty, exactly the kind of girl he would choke up around. You didn't have a lot of followers, and your posts weren't really curated to a theme or gimmick. You just documented your life. For some reason though Jason had been drawn to you ever since your smiling face had popped up in his recommended following.
Instead replies with a very creative “Yeah”
“Sorry, hope I’m not bothering you. You just seem cool.”
“You’re not bothering me.” He answers instantly, not wanting to put you off but unsure what to say.
“Good! If you’re ever feeling chatty, hmu 😊”
Easier said than done, but he massively appreciates the offer. He just doesn’t know how to take you up on it. Looking for inspiration he looks at your account again, noticing a link in your bio that he’s sure hadn’t been there when he’d first followed you. He does a spit take when it leads him to an OF page. No, that definitely was not there before.
Now he’s even more unsure what to do. Would it be weird for him to subscribe after you’d just spoken to him? Or was that what you wanted? Surely you put it there because you want subscribers, right? Should he ask you or would that make it more awkward? Why is taking down drug lords and killer clowns less scary and confusing than this?
He stews on the conundrum for a while, but eventually, he takes the plunge, signing up with the same username as his Instagram, irlgothamzombie. He could spend all night looking at your posts, and he does. Judging by your post history, and low interactions, you’ve not been doing this long, but he circles through the same handful of posts over and over, keeping his own hands full throughout. wink wink.    
He can’t get enough of looking at your body, squeezed into little costumes, draped in colourful lingerie, naked and stark against your bedspread. There’s one video in particular he can’t get enough of though, it’s you in a lacy green slip, giggling as you play with the hem, teasing the camera with a cheeky glint in your eye but never really showing anything. He plays it over and over again, fisting his cock as he images it’s his hands sneaking up your thighs, making you laugh over and over until he cums into his hand.
Even though the caption is specifically asking him your followers what type of content they’d like to see you make while in that outfit, he only comments “nice wallpaper” and logs out, cheeks burning with shame as he cleans up.
It’s a few days before he works up the nerve to log back in. He’s still high on adrenaline after a face-off with Black Mask. Feeling bold and looking for release, it’s the first thing he does when he gets home but seeing two notifications from you is like having a bucket of ice water thrown at him.
You’d replied to his comment, “😂Hadn’t noticed but you’re right.”
When he hadn’t said anything else you’d sent him another DM. “Losing interest, or are you just the shy type?”
“The ‘you’re so hot I don’t know how to talk to you type.’” He’d read through the other comments you’d gotten, that felt tame. A little out of his comfort zone, but safe enough to press send.
“That’s actually so sweet.” You get back to him quickly, sending multiple messages at once. Hopefully that means you’re glad to hear from him. “You can talk to me however you like.”
“You never said what you wanted to see me do?”
“If you’re comfy answering.”
Shitshitshit. His throat is painfully dry as he thinks up a response. “idk but I like it on.”
“green is my favorite color.”
“looks good on you”
“Do you want to see me fuck myself while wearing it?” The question is accompanied by a racy picture of you wearing the slip in reference that you hadn’t posted anywhere else.
YES! “yeah”
“Should I use my hands, or something naughtier?”
“whatever you like best” it probably seems like such a cop-out answer but he means it. “want you to enjoy it as much as I will”
“Can’t tell if you’re my nicest subscriber or not, but I got you, sweet stuff 😉”
The next day you upload the results, and he watches it straight away, not that he’d been waiting for it or anything. He’s already half-hard when he hits the play button. Then you say “This one’s specifically for you irlgothamzombie” straight into the camera with a wink and he can’t get his dick out of his pants fast enough.
He tries to take it slow, wanting to enjoy the whole video but that’s easier said than done. He’s leaking pre-cum minutes into watching as you run your hands along your body, dipping your fingers between your legs, over your covered nipples but never revealing anything.
His resolve wavers when you start to rub yourself through the fabric, cooing and moaning as you build friction. He bites his lip so hard to ground himself that it starts to bleed.
Then you bring out the big guns, he doesn’t know what it’s called, but it’s some kind of toy. Long, with a round head that you hold to your clit and fuck, do you enjoy it. You’re practically drooling as you buck your hips and roll your eyes back. Your orgasm is loud and wet, and he almost breaks until he realises there are still a few minutes left.
You keep going, so he does too. Holding out until the very end. Is it possible that sex could feel better than this? Wild.
He messages you first this time.
He buys the green slip and the matching thong, still dirty after you’d cum all over them. Under the bawdy smell of sex he can just make scent of your perfume. It's intoxicating. Maybe he should ask you what brand it is so he can get a bottle and spray it all over his apartment.
He spends all day in bed, clutching the delicate lace to his chest and sucking on the underwear until his dick aches and he physically can’t cum again without hurting himself.
He isn’t sure how he feels about your return PO Box being in Blüdhaven. It's exciting and terrifying to think that you're real, and out in the world, within driving distance even. He could just bump into you one day. He could probably track you down if he wanted to but he kind of likes the comfort of you being behind a screen.
Eventually, he buys every service you offer, custom videos, a dick rating, your private Snapchat, and he practically purges your wish list. Not just the sexy stuff, but the gift cards, the clothes, the collectables, anything you want.
With every purchase you send him your thanks, ask him about his day, his interests both sexual and in general. You offer him services for free or heavily discounted, expressions of your gratitude for all he’s done but he always declines.
A part of him believes that you’d still talk to him if he stopped financing you, you're practically two steps away from asking for it outright, and he knows that. But the money is like a safety net. Like his helmet; a barrier between him and heartbreaking humiliation. As long as he keeps doling out the cash, he’ll never have to know if you’d reject him without it.
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astrofhobia · 27 days ago
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Kat, Earth's voice actor.
So, recently Davis spoke out on a situation that came up in The Lunar and Earth Show fandom.
From what I understand, Kat, Earth's voice actor, is receiving a lot of hate, not only against her characters, but also against her for one of the most recent videos.
I never give my opinion so publicly but I think it would be good to show support for Kat.
It's stupid. All those people who come here to talk nonsense about Earth stepping out of her role of being the good and positive one are very stupid.
All or most of the cast have been through morally negative situations. Moon has abused his own brother for many years, and continues to do so. And it seems like the fandom is constantly covering its eyes to ignore this. But hey, Earth can't deny someone a hug because she becomes the mean girl and the worst character ever. Can you see how stupid this argument sounds?
Maybe, I understand that when the character was introduced it got negative reviews. Literally, they never worked with anyone other than Davis or Reed and introducing a new VA was to take you out of your zone. But, continuing to look at Kat in a bad way is the behavior of a child.
You can't expect an amazing story either, guys, specifically this group of people who are attacking Earth so much, you're not paying for a video service. You're not spending a single cent. As far as I know, Davis, Reed and Kat have spent money to maintain quality content day after day. The show has been updated every weekday for over two years.
Kat has done her best to adapt to the audience's tastes, not the other way around. She has done her best not to be an empty character. But the people who attack her don't even bother to see how their characters have evolved positively. Earth has such an empty story because the audience doesn't even pay attention to it.
You can't expect to have an amazing, original story if every time Kat holds the mic you look away. It's stupid.
Kat has been a great support for the story of like three different shows. I think these people who just want to hate something don't realize how boring the show would be without an intervention.
It's a disgusting thought to hate a fictional character just because she's a woman. And it's repulsive to hate a VA for being female. Are you stupid? Because that's the first thing I think if your main argument is "She's a woman, we don't need that"
I'm not a fan of any of the three VAs. I don't like them personally, but I'm going to defend them, especially Kat if they get any hate for this.
You can't put Bloodmoon, who tortured, manipulated, and murdered so many people, on a pedestal and throw trash and hate at Earth just for existing. It's stupid.
I understand if Kat has distanced herself from the fandom and doesn't want to have contact with the audience directly. Just because you are a public figure doesn't mean you have to swallow all the hate and keep smiling. Kat is not just a source of entertainment. She is a human being, who has emotions, thoughts and a limit.
If you have crossed her line, the only thing you can do is step back and leave her alone. No one would like to receive immense amounts of hate because their character is not to everyone's taste.
If you are part of this group of horrible people, I ask you to please leave. I don't want those people here.
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galactic-rhea · 11 months ago
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WDYM Anakin is Luke and Leia's dad
I dunno if this post will reach the Star Wars fandom but I hope it does because I'm sure you all will get a good laugh at me.
As of recent I have developed a good hiperfixation for Star Wars, the thing is I knew nothing. NOTHING about Star Wars besides the fact it had aliens and...a war...in space? And funny swords. And main character is Luke or something, I spent over 20 years ignoring anything about Star Wars and somehow missing most references out there.
And recently, literally less than a month ago I saw a gif and said to my partner "oh this guy this guy looks cool, this gif looks nice" and he said "Oh well, he's a good character." And it all developed into me watching Clone Wars, the animated series you know and...and I was kinda blown away, on my opinion the show IS GREAT. And I love every character and their interactions, I love how much they focus on side characters, and they all seem very well written. I got hiperfixated really fast and saw Anakin and I was like "Omg, babygirl. He's a blorbo now."
And because of the show, this was super unexpected, but somehow I also got, really got, into the ship with Padmé because omg, cool woman. Literal happy squeaky noises of someone who was in a bad state and needed some good ol' distraction and comfort.
Now, like I said I knew nothing about Star Wars as a whole. And I still haven't watched the movies, besides the ocassional gif?
So imagine my shock, my surprise, my...bewilderment when I realized.
"Wait a minute, LUKE IS ANAKIN'S SON?! HOLY-"
Ladies, gentleman, and others, I think I came very late to this party and I don't even know how it took me so long.
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Not only that, but because of this sudden love for the series, I went to my friends circle like "BESTIE, GUESS WHAT, I HAVE A NEW BLROBO AND A NEW FAV SHIP AND EEEP"
And my friends are like "omg that's amazing, what is it?"
I tell them, and of course they all know these characters and they all react like they know this very bad secret fact and I got told several times already "Please, don't watch the episodes 2 and 3 alone, it will hurt."
I feel like blissfully walking among rainbows and blue skies while everyone else know that my future is doomed. Somehow.
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(Uncomfortable silence)
Not only that, but then I spent a whole deal of time thinking "Where the heck I have seen these guys" cus there was some fmailiarity I couldn't just point out and then one day I woke up, brushed my teeth and of all sudden I realized and it was such a shock.
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Do you know how SURREAL is to get very into a character, and into a ship, and then realize they're the same from that super widespread meme that has been around for who knows how much time?
I swear I thought that meme was from some old medieval fantasy movies or something.
But alas, Star Wars now is EVERYWHERE. People do references to Star Wars ALL THE TIME and it's just now I'm catching them.
I got spoilers. From a meme. In a youtube review that had nothing to do with Star Wars hah. Everything is a spoiler, the world is an apparent spoiler. Now I'm here, trying to avoid spoilers from something everyone seems to know, even my family knows. It's so surreal and I wouldn't have it any other way 😂
Anyways, if you read until here, know that a wild ride still waits me, cuz I'm only starting Season 3 of Clone Wars and I don't plan to watch the movies until I finish the series.
And yes, I made this blog just to ramble freely about SW and draw stuff because it sparked my inspiration after a long art block.
Have this doodle I drew after watching the two first episodes, my offering for you reaching this far.
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Note: Wouldn't Anakin and Padmé's ship name be Animé? Cuz that's hilarious.
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sierrale8ne · 3 months ago
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Azzi with the lil horny chocolates perchance???
azzi fudd x fem!reader
nsfw // no use of y/n (ur welcome), bratty!switch!azzi, switch!reader, use of an aphrodisiac, dry humping, nipple play, fingering, oral, mirror sex, mommy kink, squirting, dirty talk.
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“It’s been 15 minutes. Relax, Az.” You mumbled, your attention being on the homework assignment you had started hours ago.
Azzi had never been bratty, never one to steer your attention away from your job or schoolwork; because she too was a vey focused and driven individual. But these last couple days had been a completely different story.
She had, out of character of course, fell down an online rabbit hole, and came across some aphrodisiac chocolates. She’d never trust the words of an ad on TikTok, but seeing the reviews made her even more desperate to try it. You were also very welcome to the idea, brushing her off and telling her to do whatever she pleased. Whatever to make your girl happy.
When the chocolates arrived 15 minutes ago, Azzi was quick to head over to where you sat on her bed, plopping one dark chocolate square into her mouth and handing you the other, before splitting the third and final one.
“Did you even read how much we’re supposed to take.” You asked, eyes briefly leaving your computer to meet your girlfriend’s eager brown eyes.
“Yes.”
You gave her a look, a tilt of your head that told her you didn’t believe her.
“Okay no. But it doesn’t really matter, it’s supposed to be fun, and here you are worrying about instructions.” She rolled her eyes, telling you she would be going to take a quick shower before walking into the hallway and leaving you to continue on your school project.
That was 15 minutes ago, and though the package insinuated that it would take quite a while for the effects to hit in full, your girlfriend was already breathing heavy and desperate for your attention. Even more so than before.
She sat on her knees in front of you, an old P.E shirt covering her body that rode up at mid thigh. Azzi stared at you like she would die at any given moment without your attention. She called your name and your eyes briefly drifted towards her.
“I need you.” She responded to your earlier statement, “I don’t care how long it’s been. Touch me.”
“You’re sounding a bit bratty.” You teased, shutting the computer screen, moving it to her desk, and giving her a cunning smile. It was amusing to you, to see her like this. A look on her face that could really only be described as a pout, her recently trimmed hair framing her face in beautiful curls. She smelled of vanilla and sandalwood. “Those chocolates got you goin’?”
“I think you’re actually a sadist.” Azzi huffed, her shoulders slouching in mild disappointment.
What she didn’t know was just how much the chocolate was effecting you too. You were lucky that the clothes you wore concealed your arousal because underneath your sweatpants, your panties were completely soaked and your nipples were so hard underneath your tank top.
She pushed you back by your shoulders, forcing you to get comfortable against the headboard. Her legs swung over your body and she straddled you, softly grinding her hips against yours.
“You don’t want me?” Azzi pouted as she cupped your cheek, “not even a little bit?”
“I’m teaching you patience.” You pointed out, simultaneously contradicting that statement by grabbing her hips and forcing her down closer to you. Azzi’s scent was intoxicating, the active ingredients of the chocolate enhanced it too.
Your eyes dropped to her thighs, thick and muscular, that caged you in place. She reached out to grab your wrists, dragging your hands away from her waist as she pinned them to your sides. Her hips pressed downwards on you some more, grinding onto you with a feverous desire.
“That’s a shame, because I really want you, baby.” She started, looking into your eyes. “I want your to fuck me so bad.”
“Az—”
“There’s so much I want you to do to me, and you wanna talk to me about patience?” Azzi’s head tilted to the left, looking down at you with teasing doe eyes. “Can you please make me feel good, Mommy?”
Your hands instantly fought out of her grip, fingers reaching out to pull on her t-shirt hem; playing with the fabric between your fingers. “Take this off.” You instructed and immediately, Azzi began shedding the shirt. Your jaw dropped and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when you got a look at her tits staring right back at you. Her tanned stomach toned even more with the weight lifting she’d been doing.
She brought her hands to her tits, gripping them in her hands. She let out a teasing moan, much to your amusement. “I need you.”
“I know.” You nodded, reaching to peel her hands away from herself. You moved your lips to the center of her chest, littering soft kisses before cupping one of her breasts. “Prettiest fucking titties. You look so good, baby.”
Your lips attached to her nipple, tongue swirling around it as you looked up into her eyes. Her lip found its way between her teeth, desperately rutting her hips against you some more. Her clit was throbbing against you, leaving a slight wet patch on the material of your sweats.
You detached yourself from her chest, paying attention to her other nipple. Your tongue lolled out, swirling around it nastily. Her chest was covered in your saliva, her nipples even more swollen than they were before. You tugged on the front of her panties the lace immediately getting caught between her folds, making her moan out.
“Shit, gimme more. More, baby, please.”
“Mmm take these off and sit back against me.” You instructed, pulling back from her nipple with a bite. “Hurry up.” To left her with a slight slap to her thigh watching as she hopped off of the bed and slid her panties down her long legs.
Azzi pulled her hair into a low ponytail, before sitting back onto the bed and pressing her back up against your bra clad chest. Your bodies were glued together as you sat on the edge of the bed, her legs crossed daintily. You leaned into her neck, pressing needy kisses against her neck as your own pussy throbbed from her warmth.
“Tell me what you want.” You spoke into her ear, looking at her through the mirror in front of her bed. Your hands pried her legs apart draping them each over your own thighs.
“Fingers.” She responded. Her head frustratingly fell back onto your shoulder. “Wanna feel ‘em inside me. Please.” She begged, her hips circling in place.
You brought your middle and ring finger to your mouth, they sat heavy on your tongue as you wet them with saliva. You were genuinely salivating at the sight of her spread out for you in such a manner. You could easily see her through the mirror, legs spread as wide as they could go but her folds were what caught your attention.
Azzi was so wet, the slick that accumulated slipped past her enterance and onto the sheets. You’d never seen her like this before. Those chocolates might have to be purchased again.
You let out a chuckle around your fingers before slipping them out of your mouth. Your wet fingers trailed down her body, stopping to briefly circle her nipples before they finally reached her clit. You could feel the way Azzi’s body trembled against your own, heating up against your exposed stomach.
Your fingers spread her open before dipping into her warmth. Azzi’s jaw fell just slightly, eyes closed. A deep guttural moan left her lips while you slowly pumped your fingers in and out of her.
“So tight, Az.” You teased, knowing that the vulgarity of your words would bring a blush to her face. “Just wanted me in this pussy so bad, huh?” You cooed into her ear.
“Yes, so bad— fuck!” She moaned. Her legs subconsciously spread wider, allowing you more room to push your fingers into her. Azzi’s pretty painted nails dug into your thigh, her chest rapidly rising and falling as you sped up.
“You look so perfect, baby. Look.” You instructed, a hand griping her chin and forcing her head back down to meet the mirror.
Her eyes attempted to look anywhere but at herself, but the grip you had on her face stopped that from happening. “Such a desperate fuckin’ slut for it. You wanna cum don’t you, baby?”
“‘M gonna cum. Please, mommy, let me.” She whined, her hips slightly humping up against your hand.
Your fingers curled, Azzi let out a loud moan in response. Your fingers hit that one spot over and over again before slipping out and coating her clit in her own slick. They pushed back in harshly, your eyes glued to the sight in front of you.
“Aww, already?” You teased. “But I just started with you.”
“Mommy, I’m— uh fuck! Fuck, let me cum!” She hiccuped.
“Do it, Az. Let me have it, baby.” You nodded eagerly, agreeing to her request.
She whimpered and cried out your name as her orgasm washed over her. Her juices squirting out of her fast and hot against your hand and the mirror in front of you both. Your eyes damn near glazed over. Azzi’s body trembled against you and her eyes rolled to the back of her head.
“Good girl. So good for me, princess.” You whispered, kissing her temple as she recovered. You pulled your fingers out before bringing them to her parted lips. She eagerly opened her mouth more, groaning at her own taste as her lips clamped around your fingers. “Dirty girl.”
Her head bobbed submissively as she sucked them clean. Saliva dripped down your hand when you pulled it away. You were so enthralled by it you didn’t even notice how she shakily stood up and pushed you back against the bed. Her hands eagerly grabbed at your sweats, pulling them down along with your underwear.
“Jesus, Az. Is this payback?” You wondered, referring to her sudden shift in energy.
“Not yet.” She replied. Her hands roughly gripped your hips and put you on your hands and knees, back arched perfectly for her. “I just wanna make you feel good, mommy.” Azzi admitted.
Her hands palmed your ass in her hands, she spread you apart and licked her lips when she got a look at how wet you were. “Tryna pretend like you don’t feel anything. Just look at that.” She giggled, shaking her head.
“Azzi, I gave you what you want. So use your mouth, or back u— ah!” You squealed when she cut you off with her lips attacking your cunt. The wetness pooling on her tongue as she collected it and spat it back onto your pussy.
The mixture ran through your pussy, compiling at your clit before dropping on the bed. It was sinful. Her thumb felt through your folds as she collected the sticky substance on it.
“Such a pretty pussy, mommy. And you taste so fuckin’ good.” Azzi praised. Her face dived back in, nearly suffocating herself in your cunt as she nose prodded against your other hole.
You didn’t even notice how you began to push back onto her, forcing her tongue deeper and deeper into you. She ate you like a last meal, like she’s been dreaming about it for days; and she really has.
“Azzi. Uh fuck, baby. Don’t stop.” You groaned, your sounds muffled by the sheets which you gripped harshly.
By now you were practically fucking her face, pushing back and suffocating between your legs. She pulled back breathlessly and pushed her thumb back to your clit to keep you stimulated.
“Azzi.” You pouted, missing the feel of her tongue already.
She smirked behind you. Her eyes watched as your cunt pleaded for more, more anything that she was obviously neglecting. “You gotta tell me how bad you want it.”
“You said this wasn’t payback.”
“I said not yet, sweetheart.” Azzi cooed. Her hand dropped from your pussy, sinfully smiling at your whining. “I’m not asking. I’ll take care of you, you just gotta beg for it, mommy.”
Your breath hitched. “Please.”
“Aww you can do better than that, baby.” Her hand caressed your ass, distracting you before she gave it a harsh slap. “I don’t have all day.”
“Fuck— please, please touch me. I want your tongue, Az. Wanna cum on your face.” You begged, legs slightly trembling as you looked back at her.
She nodded. Her hands spread your ass again, leaving a quick and surprising kiss on your other hole before making her way back to your cunt. “See it wasn’t so hard.”
Her mouth attached to your clit again. She sucking it into her mouth violently, her tongue flicking it over and over and over again until without warning your cum spilled out of you and coated her tongue. She groaned happily, licking it all up and swallowing everything you gave her.
“Azzi, shit!” You cried, pulling away from her mouth and collapsing face first onto the bed. You could hear her laughter behind you as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her body pressed against your back, mouth approaching you ear.
“You tired?” She teased.
And within seconds your exhaustion faded and you pulled Azzi back into the bed, switching spots with you while you looked in the nearby dresser drawer for the next toy you would use to break her apart.
author’s note gf azzi fudd 😍😍 ugh someone tell paige to come off of this one please!! yes it’s unedited, yes there are grammar and spelling mistakes, no idgaf <3
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mysteryshoptls · 2 months ago
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SSR Jack Howl - Room Relaxation Vignette
"Happy Birthday"
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[Sports Field]
[tup, tup, tup]
Jack: Pant, pant… I could really feel the burn on those last 20 meters.
Jack: What's my time…? Oh, not bad. I'll have to remember this feeling for next time. Alright, guess it's time to stretch and head back to the dorm.
Riddle: Are you doing solo practice after your club activities once again? You sure are diligent, Jack.
Jack: Oh, Riddle-senpai. When you say "again" like that… did you already know that I always stay behind longer?
Riddle: Well, when the Equestrian Club ends our activities for the day and leave the stable for our respective dormitories, we do pass by the field.
Riddle: I've spotted you running by yourself many times before. Are you training for a meet of some kind?
Jack: Ah, actually, recently my times have been fairly stagnant, so I've been trying to adjust my running form.
Jack: Nothing I was doing was really working… But I think I've really started to figure out what I need.
Jack: For now, I plan on heading back to my dorm and, starting tomorrow, I'll focus on working on my newest running posture.
Riddle: A good decision. It would not do for you to injure yourself by overworking.
Riddle: Besides, a student's priority should be their studies. Passion is well and good, however you would do well to not neglect your studies.
Jack: No need to tell me twice. I don't plan on neglecting my practice nor my studies whatsoever.
Jack: I made it here to Night Raven College, after all. I'll put forth even more effort so I can achieve even more.
Jack: Even if it's the day before my birthday, I'll have to continue doing my best… No, I'll have to do even better than my best.
Riddle: Oh, is your birthday tomorrow?
Riddle: Then I'm sure there's much for you to prepare. It would be rude of me to continue to keep you, so I'll leave you now.
[Riddle walks off]
Jack: Eh…? Oh, sure. Thank you, Riddle-senpai.
Jack: …Did I just say out loud that it's my birthday tomorrow? I hope he doesn't think I'm excited about it, or anything…
Jack: Ughhhh. Nah, it's no good worrying about something that's already done! Time to stretch!
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[Savanaclaw Dorm – Jack's Room]
Jack: Whew… I feel much better after a shower. Guess it's time to finally get to my homework.
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[Savanaclaw Dorm – Jack's Room]
Jack: Guess that's enough of reviewing today's lessons. I gotta put my homework in my bag before I forget, too…
[Roommate A speaks up]
Jack: … Huh? You wanna copy my homework before I put it away? I didn't work on it to help you guys out, why would I show it to you, anyway?
[Roommate B talks back]
Jack: You don't know the answers? Well, that's your fault for not listening during class. Don't come begging me for scraps.
Jack: Ugh, look at 'em, all grumbling over something stupid. Anyway… I guess I just have "that" left to deal with before going to bed.
「Survey on Quality of Life Improvements for the Student Body」
Jack: So they're looking for campus life improvements, huh. Well, there's the fact that some can be irritating just because they're a year or two older…
Jack: But it's not like the academy can really do anything to help improve personal problems. So, I guess…
Jack: I know I'd like it if they could do something about the rule that freshmen must live 4 to a room.
Jack: It's stressful enough having to share a small room with someone else, let alone 3 other people.
Jack: I can't wait for next year. Sophomores live 2 to a room, so it should be way better than right now.
Jack: There'll be more space in the room then… And I'll be able to find more sunlight for my cacti as well.
Jack: Even though I was able to beat the others to the spot that would provide the most light back when I first got here…
Jack: It's still not enough. Compared to the rooms reserved for the upperclassmen, it's still not as bright here, so I have to take extra care of the little guys.
Jack: Cacti are just like humans in that they don't do well if they don't get enough sunlight.
Jack: …That reminds me of back home for some reason. When winter comes, I always see people here and there sunbathing.
Jack: As a kid, I thought they were just lazy, and couldn't figure out why they'd want to just lounge out under the sun…
Jack: When I learned that there were health-related reasons behind it, I was both surprised and impressed.
Jack: It's not like I've been lacking any chances to be out under the sun ever since I've come to Sage's Island…
Jack: But if I could have a room big enough to roll out a rug, it might not be so bad to lay out and sunbathe on it a bit.
Jack: Alright… I've finished filling out the survey, so I guess it's time to sleep.
[roommates chattering]
Jack: Hey! You guys are being way too loud. How long're you gonna be at it?
Jack: You all better go to sleep right at lights out tonight… 10PM is bedtime! Don't keep me awake!
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Jack: …Yeah, like those guys'll listen to what I say.
Jack: I should go back to the survey and ask for a canopy bed… Or maybe a partition.
Jack: Sleep is important for me to build my muscles… So I can't have them keeping me up… Yaaawn…
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[Savanaclaw Dorm – Jack's Room]
[alarm blaring]
Jack: …Mm, is it morning already? Welp, then. First things first after waking up…
Jack: There's no question about it. TIME TO REPLENISH QUICKLY WITH SOME PROTEIN!!
Jack: I need to gain back all the nutrients I lost while sleeping. I'll swing by the kitchen for a protein drink and then head towards the washroom.
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[Savanaclaw Dorm – Washroom]
[splash, splash]
Jack: Whew… No one's awake at this time, so it's nice and quiet here.
Jack: …Man, no matter how I look at it, my hair is tousled into a real mess. This happens every morning, sure, but…
Jack: Since I have thicker hair, it's so hard to tame the bedhead. Ah, tsk, there's even some pillow marks on my ears.
Jack: Well, I guess I'll just start with wetting the roots of my hair and then use the dryer while pulling the strands back…
[blow-dries hair]
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Jack: Once the unruly strands are tamed, I'll comb it… Good, it's more or less better now. If I don't do this first, it ends up taking longer in the end.
Jack: I've tried a bunch of different hair products, but I ended up liking this wax the best.
Jack: Hair gel might be better to keep the shape, but it gets too stiff and takes too long to wash out.
Jack: Only using wax means that my hairstyle starts to lose its hold around evening time, but all I need to do for that is to just fix it up in the afternoon.
Jack: Nice, that looks good. All that's left is to spray it a bit…
[sprays hair]
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Jack: Normally I won't use it 'cause I don't like it to get on my ears, but I want to make sure I look spot on today of all days.
Jack: As for makeup… Nah, I'll go without, like usual. I'd like to look good, but I don't want to get all dolled up or anything.
Jack: I'll just use my normal sunscreen. Can't say I really like how it feels on my skin, though…
Jack: But I remember the first time I ever went skiing by myself and the pain I went through when I forgot to apply sunscreen.
Jack: The way I got burned by the sun reflecting on the snow and I had to live with the embarrassment of the goggles leaving that imprint on my face… Augh, I don't even want to think about it again.
Jack: But thanks to that, I finally understand why my parents wouldn't shut up about not forgetting to put on sunscreen.
Jack: Looks like there's a bunch I'm able to understand more as I grow up, like that whole sunbathing thing. Guess that's another reason why it's fun to grow older.
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[Savanaclaw Dorm – Jack's Room]
Jack: Alright. Now that I look presentable, I think I'll stretch out my muscles to prep for morning practice.
Jack: Phew… This old chair they supplied the room with really comes in handy for stretching.
Jack: Right after we got grouped together, none of us wanted it so we kept trying to shove it onto each other, but that was just a pain to deal with, so I kept it…
Jack: It's hard, sturdy, and it doesn't wobble so easily. Plus, the size is just perfect for someone of my height.
Jack: Next, I'll step onto the seat and… I guess I'll look over my class notes while I stretch, as usual.
Jack: I think we were on this page of the textbook for Magical History…
Jack: "The following year, the ancient incantations that were inscribed on the cave walls were successfully deciphered. The gathered mages then attempted to speak the ancient incantations…"
[Roommate B complains]
Jack: …Huh, what, I'm too loud? My voice woke you up? Well, good timing, the sun's almost up. Get up, already!
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[Main Street]
Jack: Urk, is that who I think it is over there…? …Good morning, Riddle-senpai.
Riddle: Good morning, Jack. Have you finished with morning practice already?
Riddle: Happy Birthday. That's all I came here to say.
Jack: …Of course it was about that. Sorry to be a bother about it. I didn't mean to let it slip yesterday…
Riddle: Heh, you're no bother. We may be of different dormitories, however it is the duty of us upperclassmen to support our underclassmen.
Riddle: You should continue to do your utmost. …Of course, I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that.
Jack: Yes, sir! I'll keep on improving!
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Requested by @farfalla049.
245 notes · View notes
jinjeriffic · 11 months ago
Text
DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 3
Part 2
Tim reached up to rub at his temples and groaned. This was getting him nowhere. Normally he enjoyed going down the research rabbit-hole but this was ridiculous! Paranormal sciences were a bad joke. Most of it was conjecture, hearsay and unprovable theories with just enough scientific sounding jargon peppered in to confuse a layperson. Peer-review was practically non-existent, not to mention a proper scientific method. Francis Bacon would be rolling in his grave!
The slight hiss of the elevator doors opening interrupted his thoughts.
“Hey Replacement, you missed dinner!” Jason called, sauntering over with a loaded plate in hand. He set down a sandwich next to Tim’s elbow. “Alfie says he’s cutting off your coffee supply until you get some damn sleep. I’m pretty sure he’s gonna start prepping the knock-out gas soon!” he quipped, leaning his hip against the Batcomputer’s console. “Research on the League giving you trouble?”
“I wish.” Tim sighed, reaching for the sandwich, “The Assassins have actually been pretty quiet recently. I found some leads on suspicious political donations in Italy, but nothing I can tie to them directly. Talia’s in Paris as far as I can tell, working at an investment firm for God knows what reason. Probably money laundering related. And the ones holed up in Nanda Parbat have been quiet as murderous little church mice.”
“Ra’s isn’t up to anything? Colour me shocked.” Jason drawled sardonically, “You sure he’s not cooking up a new batch of demon spawn in that mountain of his?”
Tim shook his head. “You know Bruce destroyed his cloning labs after the last… incident. And I’ve found no records of the League procuring the necessary materials or equipment to restart production.” he wrinkled his nose, “Of course it’s possible that they used a shell company we haven’t come across yet, but I believe the odds are pretty low.”
“So what’s got your panties in a bunch then?”
Tim’s mouth twisted in a frown. “Ghosts.”
“Ah.”
Jason stared off into space and Tim took a bite of his sandwich. Egg-salad, score! The Cave was silent for a while, only disturbed by the noise of the actual bats heading out for their nightly hunt.
“I can’t tell you for sure if ghosts are real or not. I don’t remember anything from when I was… dead.” Jason said haltingly, and Tim stilled. “But we’ve seen people come back under pretty weird circumstances. So why not ghosts?” Jason shrugged.
Tim chewed and swallowed before replying. “Because it’s one thing for the physical body to be restored, but some kind of nebulous ‘spirit’ lingering? Why don’t we see ghosts all the time then? Why don’t people come back? Why not…” Tim broke off.
“Your Dad?”
Tim nodded and dropped the remains of the sandwich back on the plate. It suddenly looked as appetising as cardboard.
“I don’t know, birdie. We still don’t know why I came back.” Jason snorted “Maybe the universe just has a sick sense of humour.”
Tim’s lips curled up in a mirthless smile. “Maybe the universe missed your terrible puns. Some of those still haunt me.”
Jason barked out a surprised laugh. “That was terrible!”
“The universe clearly made a grave mistake.”
“Stop it, I can feel my brain cells dying!” Jason groaned and gave Tim a light punch to the shoulder.
“Well we can’t have that, you have so few already!” Tim snarked, then quickly leaned to the side to evade Jason’s attempted noogie. Jason huffed and stepped back, crossing his arms.
“All right mister teenage genius. What have you dug up about ghosts then?”
Tim rolled his eyes. “There’s obviously tons of folklore from all over the world. Pretty much every mythology has stories about the spirits or souls of the dead returning to haunt the living. But if there’s a scientific basis to all this then it’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Even the supposed leaders in the field are hopelessly biased.” He pulled up some documents on the screen. “Take these for example. The Doctors Fenton are supposed experts in the field of ‘Ecto-Biology’ as they call it, but their research papers would never fly with a proper scientific journal. A lot of it comes across as blatantly xenophobic towards the entities they are supposedly studying and their research methods seem geared towards confirming what they view as foregone conclusions. And most of their peers operate on the same track.”
Jason hummed thoughtfully as he skimmed one of the articles in question. “Do you think there’s anything to this, or is it all just a hoax?”
Tim snorted. “If there is, they haven’t offered any conclusive proof. Though they certainly seem to have made it work for them. The Fentons have a series of patents for weapons and defenses against these supposed ‘ecto-entities’ and it looks like there’s plenty of people gullible enough to buy them. I haven’t taken a closer look at their products yet, but a lot of it looks like something out of a pulp sci-fi movie.” He pulled up the image of what looked like a bazooka with green glowing parts. Jason whistled.
“So, con artists or mad scientists?”
“Could be both. Their financial records are all over the place and they’ve had some large transactions with what I’m pretty sure are shell companies in recent years. They live and operate out of a small city in Illinois.” Tim said, pulling up the relevant documents on screen.
“Amity Park?” Jason read aloud.
“Supposedly it’s ‘The Most Haunted City in America’. Seems on brand, doesn’t it?”
“It probably helps them stay in business. It looks like they have kids?” Jason pointed at the tax returns. Tim typed some search queries into the system.
“Two. One in high school, one just started her first semester at Metropolis University. With a full scholarship to boot.” He spent a few more minutes hacking into the university’s systems. “Here we go, Jasmine Fenton. Looks like she’s going for a psychology degree. And… hm…” Tim trailed off. Jason quickly realised what had caught his attention.
“‘The Damaging Effects of Envy Towards Metahumans? That’s a hell of a topic for a freshman-year essay.” Jason remarked.
“Yes. I wonder…” Tim drummed his fingers on the keyboard. “She might have some insight into her parents’ research.”
“And at a cursory glance, she didn’t drink whatever Kool-Aid her parents were serving.” Jason finished for him. “You wanna go pump her for information?”
“I might as well. If nothing else, maybe we can shut down a couple of mad scientists before they become a problem.” Tim stood up and stretched. “Time for a field trip!”
Part 4
811 notes · View notes
vanya-evergreen · 8 months ago
Text
How to remember.(Chapter 1)
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Masterlist
<Prev Next>
Relationship: BatFam x reader (platonic)
Summary: At the age of 11, you woke up in an other world without any guidance and all the money you once lacked. You were left with only your memeories and your other memories.
You tired to remember, their life, but it seemed like they didn't want you too. So when trying to navigate the intricate sides of an elite schoo, but you always got in trouble when it came to faces and names.
Cw: brief description of gore
No use of Y/n
Wc: 5k+
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A/n- Woo first post! Exciting but so nerve racking, honestly have never posted my fanfic before. So, sorry if its kinda rough, had no one to beta, bare with me please. The characters are probably OOC, since I only recently got back into DC after seeing the "do the butts match post?" from the ai voice reddit post on tik tok. But you what that's more fun anyways, right? anyway please enjoy a really really random idea
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Tick tick tick tick
The room was quiet, with only a few scribbles of pens or pencils to fill the void. You resided at your desk, hunched over, while resting your face on your hand. Your eyes lazily review the assignment in front of you for the 7th time. You had finished the assignments for the day, with each answer being correct that  left you with only your thoughts. Your eye twitched, turning your head slowly toward the window, while slowly moving your head from your hand to the desk. You went through your day just to try and remember, waking up, first 2 classes, all fine. Until, on your way to your current period, you ran into a younger student, probably a sophomore, maybe a junior. 
You cringed silently, you were just in your mind, really your memories from both this world and your original world. When you ran into a younger student, you both fell and could only manage a quick sorry before moving on. He was barely getting to his feet when you turned away, you were so stuck in your mind that you couldn’t even offer a proper apology, let alone your hand. You can't help but think back to the faint whisper you heard as you walked away. You made a mental note to find and properly apologize to him during lunch, if you could remember what he looked like, seeing as you only really saw his keychains on his backpack as they jingled when he got up.
Your head started throbbing as you thought too much, you shut your eyes tightly, wiping your mind clean, then opening them again .You stared out the window, trying not to think much, just trying to learn to just exist. Why is existing one of the hardest things to learn? You watch the clouds clash into each other slowly creating an ocean of a scale of whites and grays. You slowly let your mind blank, even just for a moment, it was nice. 
You could slowly feel your drifting off, almost like you were disconnecting from your physical body. Until the sound of mindless chatter started up in the back of the room, pencils still wrote, notably faster than before. This means the period was almost up, so that means lunch and trying to find that one guy. You sat up, collected the assignments from your desk, then got up and turned them in. You got back to your seat right as the bell rang. 
You picked up your stuff and got out of there as quickly as you could, just to round the corner to be surprised by an underclassman. He had green eyes that made very uncomfortable eye contact with yours. You almost immediately looked away from his very intense glare. You side eye him and see his bag. The keychains. 
“Shit” you let out under your breath as you released your present problem. Your eye drifted back to his face, he didn't look all that happy to see you. ‘definitely him’. “Hey man, listen…” you started. You felt genuinely bad about earlier, you could only imagine how big of an asshole it made you seem like.
“Who are you?” his tone was blunt, with a twinge of annoyance. 
Your mind stalled, that's not what you expected him to say. You thought he would threaten you or maybe pull the ‘do you know who i am card?’ or ‘I am going to ruin your life’. You felt the hostility he emulated, you felt uneasy. You furrowed your eyebrows, opening and closing your mouth a couple of times. The almost seemingly endless stream of words in your mind were stuck in your throat. “ ___ ___” you choked out with your last bit of brain cells.
“ Where are you from?” His voice shot straight through you. He gave you no time to collect your thoughts from the initial question. Your mind was scattered from how fast questions came at you. The unease in your stomach grew. 
“Uh, gotham, like everyone here.” Confusion clouded your already foggy mind , ‘what did this have to do with me running into him earlier?’ “ I am sorry about earlier by the way.” you added quickly with a sorrowful expression, the cloudiness didn’t consume your intention to apologize.
“Gotha, hm, how come I have never seen any event?” he ignored your apology. ‘Okay, that's rude.’ You tried to grasp at whatever you could to respond.
“What events?” was all you could get. You felt like you were going to faint from the speed of his questions. Why did he care so much about what you did, you were just a stranger to him. 
“Galas, business meetings…” he listed off different types of high end events, but you didn’t really listen after the first two. Your head was spinning, you had to try and collect the scattered pieces of your mind. 
You rushed your recovery, you went from being up in your head for the last 20 minutes to being pulled down, through the earth’s crust, into a cave being interrogated by someone you have never talked to before this. ‘Who the hell is this guy?’
“I am sorry, but who are you?” You interrupted him midway through his next question, ‘that was a great idea’. “Am I meant to know you or something?” Ah yes, your most infamous line. You put your hand on your forehead, trying to rationalize this interaction. His mouth was open, he looked almost offended by your question.
“you’re joking?” he exclaimed agitated, he creased his eyebrows. You had to get out of there.
“No.“ You turn your head to the side, throwing your hands up in the air while turning your upper body away.
“ Well okay then, have you ever heard of the Waynes?” You do remember hearing about Wayne enterprise last time you went to the doctors, like when you first woke up in this world, which was like, 6 years ago, maybe. That doesn’t really matter. You had heard of it.
 “The company?” you questioned. He groaned, if in relief or annoyance, that was beyond you. 
“Yes, but what have you heard about the Wayne family?” he looked you square in the eyes, you turned away slowly not really saying anything. You looked guilty. “Nothing?” you nodded assuring his previous statement. Still not meeting his eye, not wanting to deal with that memory for the rest of the day. “How?”
“I don’t read the gossip columns?” You suggested with an awkward shrug and chuckle. You only now realized that there was a wall of students formed around you and him. You definitely had to get out there now.
“What? What do you mean” he was really pissed now, but you didn't even hear half of what he was saying you were just trying to find the quickest way out of here. You looked around looking for an opening within the students. You noticed one right behind him so you had to be quick about it.
“Listen, I am so sorry about being early, I didn't mean to make you fall, really.” you seemed less sincere than before, you were trying to make sure that you didn't seem rushed. “I really didn’t and if it had been any other time I would have made sure that I had offered my hand but I just wasn’t entirely aware. I am sorry, again.” You had made your way around him away around him as you talked, you maintained eye contact with him until you were able to slip in between the students. “Please forgive me, and I am sorry I couldn't answer your question adequately.”
 “Wait-” you heard him shout as you speed walked away, trying to blend in with a group of students that were walking down the hallway. He, of course, saw you slip into the group and approached you. You had to think quickly, thankfully there was another group of students that was going the opposite way. You quickly slipped into another group, successfully avoiding him. You could only finally breathe when you made it to the dining hall without running into him again. 
You went into the lunch line, trying to just forget whatever the hell that was. You moved through the line slowly, grabbing whatever looked appetizing today. One of the many good things about going to a rich school was that the food was edible. You were grabbing the last bit of your lunch before you felt a cold air run up your spine, you said a silent prayer in hope that it wasn’t who you thought it was. You tried not to look, Maybe if you didn’t look he would leave. You remained calm and walked with your food to the table where you sat with your friends, making sure to make yourself as unnoticeable as possible. You were able to sit down and eat most of your lunch before you felt him approach your table, you could feel a cold sweat develop on your shoulders as you took your last couple of bites.
He gradually approached, carefully looking over everyone trying to figure where you were. Your friends were having a typical conversation, what they were doing that night or where they are going to college and what they are going to study. Until one of them saw him approach. “Is that Damian Wayne approaching us, right now?” that when you realized why he was having a hard time with you early, you couldn’t recognize him or his family, but your friends, who never cared for status and the tabloid’s talk recognized him, or Damian now that you had a name to the face. You straightened up when you heard this. 
Your friends looked at you strangely until they realized you were the one he was looking for, and you did not want to be found. They acted quickly. They, as naturally as possible, started to clean up. Throwing away trash, and putting away their food. They even helped you pack up, and as a group you slipped out of the dining hall into a hallway, then out into the courtyard. You would have to thank them later with some homemade baked goods. They really came to your rescue today.
You looked at your phone, 12:45. Lunch was almost over, never would have you thought that you would be grateful for that. ‘Only 5 more minutes’. Your relief was somewhat short lived as you had to now answer their question. “So, what happened?” one of them, Leah, asked flatly.
“Well you see…” You started not really wanting to talk. You looked around trying to procrastinate this conversation.
“Stop putting this off” Another one, Warren, jabbed you in your side with a pencil causing you to flinch.
“Fine…” you sighed feeling defeated, ” So, today I may have, made him fall, but I also fell.” you signed as you talked. you looked down and then back up at Wynn hoping for their pity only to be met with a vaguely threatening look to continue. “And after 3rd period he was waiting for me in the hallway and he asked who I was. I told him my name and then asked who he was because he was asking me a lot of questions.”You smiled with fear behind your eyes. They looked at you mouth agape, no one could be as out of tune with the news as you are.
‘What the hell? Did you even apologize??’ Wynn signed, they were not happy with you.
“ The fuck you mean you didn’t know him?” Leah exclaimed, grabbing onto your shoulders and shaking you very violently, making you feel sick. You knew you fucked up bad when Warren did have anything to say. 
“Wynn, I did apologize!! Like 3 times too, and I am sorry I am too busy thinking of other things!” You continued to sign as you talked, trying to defend yourself. Warren and Leah were lecturing you about how stupid your actions were and Wynn was just shaking their head. You started to tune them out when you saw the door open and of course Damian came outside. You quickly got up and picked up your stuff.
“We need to finish our-” he started before being interrupted by the bell ring. Much to your luck.
“Hey, well see you guys later, I need to get to class” you waved goodbye to your friend and signed ‘please don't kill me’ to Wynn, before you ran past Damian to your 4th class, They all exchanged looks with each other before you friends quickly walked away to their own classes. You made it to your 4th period without much trouble, besides a few stares the class went perfectly, boring but fine. The next 2 classes were a mix and repeat of your 4th period, only with increasing whispers every time you walked in a class.
 It was finally your 8th class, study hall, you were able to get to your normal spot without much trouble. You were even able to put in your headphones and start working on a rough draft to a machine that you were designing. You sat most of the day up until this point, so your arms always felt stiff. So you stretched your arms, only to hit something. Quickly retracting your arms back to your side, you turned around. ‘FUUUUUU-’ It was Damian. “Heyyyy.” you slowly turned back to your computer in front of you, taking off your headphones.
“Are you gonna avoid me again?” He was looming over you, you could feel the burning on top of your head from the way he glared at you. You shut your laptop and braced yourself for all the questions he was going to ask. 
“No.” You shook your head, he sat down across from you. You looked anywhere but at him.
“The events, why have I never seen you?” He went straight to it.
“I don't think I am famous enough to go.” You shrugged, he raised an eyebrow at you suggesting that you were lying. You were ticked off by this. “ Listen, If I have gotten an invite, I have never seen it.” You folded your arms. 
“ How did you get into this school?” You didn't really have a clear answer to this one, “I have heard about how you could never recognize people who are from well known families in Gotham, and some that were even famous by themselves.”
“A trust fund.” That was your typical go to answer, but in all honesty you didn't know. While you had some memories, a very limited amount, of this body's life, they were almost all blurry. None of them were really clear, but you could feel what they, the other you, were feeling. You could make really rough assumptions. Like you knew you had a mother (or a female figure) that you loved, and somewhere along the way she got remarried and you had step-parent up until she died. You could feel the way the memories would cause a physical reaction so you tried not to think about it too much. “And I just have never really had the mental space to pay attention to that, plus faces and names aren’t my thing.”
He wasn’t satisfied with your answers “So what? You just don't know anything about the world?”
“No, of course I pay attention to the crimes in Gotham, and the people that handle them.” This wasn’t a lie, you did pay attention to that, you even knew their names, a big honor to have, in your mind at least. You were a huge fan of them, even before- you know. 
“Hm.” He slouched as he contemplated your answers, while resting his hands intertwined together maintaining eye contact with you. There was silence between you two, it was too long. You restlessly tapped your fingers on the table while resting your head on the other hand, watching him. Waiting for whatever comes next of his seeming never ended questions, but he seemed to be stumped.
“Is that it?” You broke the silence “You have everything you need to know. Right?” You straighten your back, now sitting up right. He only continued to stare. Internally you rolled your eyes before you put one of your headphones on. 
You opened your laptop, quickly glancing over the blueprint for the machine. You were getting bored of this. you looked blankly at your computer screen. ‘I wonder what I can find about Damian's family.’  What a dangerous thought to have. You, with a renewed vigor, quickly opened a new search window and started simple. ‘Wayne family’ you were overwhelmed with the number of results. 2 billion. 2 billion. You understood why Damian was so shocked now. That was just for the family too; you count the profiles, 9. 
First, you clicked on ‘Thomas Wayne’, you were somewhat familiar with the name. You read about the tragedy of how he died, you knew this story, you watched a true crime video on it a couple of years back. You felt it was only appropriate to make your way down the family tree so you clicked on ‘Bruce Wayne’. Of course you could assume he was Damian's father. There were links to articles about some scandal of his or how his business was doing. You read a bit further only to find out that the man adopted a lot. Like, you had wondered how he had 6 children but guess that was your answer. You were about to click on Damian's profile only to stop.
“What exactly are you doing?” So he didn’t lose his vocal cords. You snapped out of your trance by his voice.you realized how funky what you just did was.You felt a bit like a creep now, searching up his family in front of him was not the best idea.
You coughed clearing your throat “Why do you care?” You tried to keep an even voice. 
“You were staring so intently at your computer that it almost looked like you were planning something.” He leaned back with his arms folded. 
“Well,” You closed your search tab later, planning on continuing to research (basically stalk) them later. “I am working on a machine.” You ignored the underlying implication that you were possibly evil. You pulled up the blue prints and math for the machine and turned it around to show him. 
“What does it do?” His glare intensified.
“It’s meant to be a multi-dimensional portal, of sorts.” This was the truth. “It's more of a concept than anything.” This was a lie. “I have to make this for my engineering class, we have an assignment where we make up a theoretical invention and try to come up with a way to make them real” Another truth.
“Interesting,” he became more vigilant, yet interested because of  your words. “And have you figured it out?” 
“No, and if I did it probably wouldn’t work,” much to your dismay. “This assignment is more about how well we can explain our logic than the actual realism of it.”
“Oh,” You couldn’t tell if he was more relieved or disappointed. “Well you must enjoy the class if you are putting this much work into it.”
“Yep ,” you said through slightly gritted teeth. You didn’t mind the class, in fact you would’ve loved it, if you were still in your original word. “I guess.” You smiled tightly, turning your laptop back around. “So what about you? Do you have a favorite class?” Your smile shifted from tight and sharp to curved and soft, this was classic. You did this when you were trying to shift the attention away from something you didn’t want to discuss. You could almost see him relax, ever so slightly, but still he’s coming around. Maybe.
“Art” his arms were still folded, but his eyes didn’t seem so analytical or hostile. While it wasn’t a lot it was better than what you had gotten out of him from most of the conversation. 
“Really, would you be willing to show me some of your pieces?” you asked ever so politely. 
“Why would I show you?” And there is the defensiveness.
“Because I showed you my blueprints.” your smile faltered for a moment only to return within a second, you looked back to your laptop.
“Right,” his arms were more loosely folded. “Still I don't have too.” his arms tighten back up again.
“That is true,” you nodded in agreement, “but I wouldn’t mind seeing them, but that's your choice.”  You weren’t going to force him to do anything, it wasn’t your job. He was quiet. You peered over your laptop to see what was going on. He looked at you, eyes wide, arms barely folded. He looked like a cat after finding something interesting. “What?”
“Nothing.” He returned to his vigilante mood. You shrugged it off and continued to work on your draft. He continued to observe you, you continued to work. You both stayed this way for a while’ it was like you were in a mental battle with him, a really one-sided one. You didn’t really have any intention of resuming the conversation. 
The silence was very welcomed. It allowed you to get your work done, you would’ve been done in 30 minutes if he didn’t show up. The silence was interrupted but the sound of a zipper opening. You didn’t look up from your laptop; slowly a sketch book came into your peripheral. You glanced at it, with a bit of hesitation you reached for it. Closing and sliding your laptop to the side, replacing it with the sketch book. you opened the cover and started going through the sketch book carefully. While had only shifted the conversation to get the heat off of you, you were nicely surprised with his talent.
The sketches in the beginning were good, in quality. They were all of different gorey situations, from a man having his head torn apart, to a woman with her skin falling off, it said something about his childhood, but that was his therapist's job to decide what this said. The theme changed after a few more pages of graphics images, which had become much less violent. There were first a few of just some plants, they were nice but not as nice as the first bug you saw, you could deduct that he had real references to base them off of. You flipped through the page, seeing pages full of multiple individual sketches, to pages of only one, fully detailed, landscapes. WIth some gore but it was far fewer than before . 
You could see his improvement. They were good to begin with but they were too focused on the bigger image, they were missing something. You felt like he figured whatever he was missing, this was shown in the recurring dog, Titus, or that's what he labeled the drawing. You flipped  through a few more pages, mostly animals and plants, until you saw the first human sketch that wasn’t a subject of a horrific act. You had seen the face only 20 minutes prior, it was Bruce Wayne, but he wasn’t wearing his playboy smile, he wasn’t even smiling. It was only a headshot but you could tell he wasn’t present in his mind. He was wearing a thoughtful look, a distant look. 
You looked over the page more carefully now, there was still an overall theme of live studies of plants and animals, with some small landscapes, but there was new addition with people now, they were all labeled with their names, you roughly could recalled some of them from early search on his family, they were greatly detail, they all seem to show some sort of part of their personality, their real personalities. Not the public image they upheld but who they really were. You felt like you shouldn’t be looking at this, but you think he would’ve stopped you if he didnt want you seeing this. You turned more pages, he had improved a lot, he had not only found what he was missing, but more. Every drawing and sketch, you left no drawing unseen.
You stopped at one page, it was a full page dedicated to a  family portrait, or a sketch of one. The portrait was the formal ones you were used to. They were casual clothes, no one was looking straight forward. No poses, no one sitting, nor was their hair combed neatly. It looked like just a family out and about. They all seemed so close, it seemed to be more of a wish than a reality but you were not close to him so maybe it was his reality. You looked over the page a final time before turning to the page. The rest of the sketchbook was architecture and landscapes with sprinkles of animals that you assumed were his pets. The talent he had was special, you would honestly tell him that he should pursue art, even if just on the side.
You slid it to Damian. “You have some real talent.” You expressed with a calm tone.
“I know.” He stated as if it was a known fact.  You choked on the air in your throat trying to hold back your laughter. He held a blank expression, he wasn’t cocky, if he was he would be smiling. 
“I am glad that you see it,” You look at your phone, 5 minutes before school ends, “I always get annoyed when people try to deflect praise.” You closed your laptop and put it into your bag. “I think it's a waste of time, it's just an attempt to seem humble”  you secured your bag to your back, “but that’s kinda hypocritical of me to say, don't you think?” The bell rings.
“Yes it is.” he agrees, nodding his head.
“By the way, what class did you skip to talk to me?” There was no way he had study hall this period.
“Well,” he paused. He just stood there not really wanting to answer you, you chuckled. He wasn’t happy that you laughed at him.
“Alright, good to know. Anyways, have a good day.” You walk away, still chuckling. before leaving through the door, you turned back, looking at him “Feel free to show me more art if you ever choose to.” You gave him a wide grin as you span around on your heel and continued to walk away with the typical bounce in your step. You didn't see his reaction, but it didn’t matter. You were able to get away from him without him asking you anymore questions you wouldn’t have been able to answer. 
The hallway was crowded, a sea of students were either trying to head home or back to their dorms. You got through it quickly as you had taken to the window method, where if you see an opening in between students, you take it. Something seemed off today, well more off than normal.  You didn’t pay attention to that. You made it to the front of the school and found your driver waiting for you, you waved and smiled before getting in and heading home.
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Damian wasn’t sure how to feel about this, or he couldn’t pinpoint how he felt. You were so nice but he was suspicious of you. I mean, wouldn’t you be too? You were rich enough to go to Gotham academy. Which was known for being a school for the elite, yet he couldn’t connect you to any of the elite families. You also didn’t know any other elite family, especially the Wayne's. A founding family of Gotham, and always had something going around on the news. It's like you just dropped on to the face of the earth randomly when you were 11. 
He had already pulled your file from both cityhall and the school. Your school record was almost squeaky clean, only one instant of a fight that was deemed not your fault and bullying targeted towards you. Your city record only showed that you were an orphan with no listed legal guardian and that you have lived in the same penthouse for almost 7 years, near old Gotham. “No named father and mother is dead” he read his notes out loud. “What the fu-”
“Master Damian.” Alfred was standing in the doorway with a steamed suit for this weekend's gala. “Excuse the intrusion, I just came to put your formal suit away and say that Master Bruce is ready for patrol.”
“Thank you Alfred,” Damian gathered the pages, straightened them, and put everything into a file. He placed it to the side for later.
“Also,” Alfred continued to speak as he hung Damians suit in his closet. “I got a call from the school” Damian stopped and looked at him. Damian’s eyes followed Alfred as he walked towards the door. “Master bruce doesn’t know, yet, but I wouldn't recommend doing that again” Alfred warned him as he shut the door. Damian was glad Alfred would keep his secret, even if just for this once.
Damian heads down to the Batcave. He was still annoyed, he hated how easily he could let his guard falter so easily around you. You were too nice to a practical stranger. He thought, no, he knew that there was something up with you. There is no one still this decent in Gotham, not in the city where they needed a rich family to handle their criminal problem, or where there seems to be a S-level threat every couple of months. You simply could not exist in a city like this.
He passed many large frames with paintings, he never really paid attention to them, like he would be now. There were points where there were smaller frames with photos and he looked over at just the right time to see a very familiar face. He stared for a moment before continuing to walk but much faster now. After he was suited up, he met his father as he was sitting at the computer.
“Damian.” Bruce greeted him, still reading over files pulled up on the screen. Damian to a quick read over the files, it was a missing boy’s case. Probably kidnapped and being held for ransom or maybe because her parents did know something they shouldn’t.
“Father.” Damian replied. He eyed his father, he wanted to ask straight up but he knew his father would easily hide his reaction if he did so directly. So he waited for the question he typically hated disliked answering.
“How was school today?” Bruce was never the most attentive father but he tried, this was one of his few ways of trying to stay in tune with his children's lives. Damian would always say mostly the same thing ‘unchallenging’ or something along those lines. But tonight was different.
“Fine, but I met this person today,” Damian said.
“Oh really” Bruce raised an eyebrow and turned his chair around to face him, Damian has never mentioned meeting someone before. “Who are they?”
“___ ___, they are a senior.” Bruce tensed for a second at the mention of your name. That was all Damian needed to see from him. Bruce, of course, regained his composure within milliseconds.
“Hm, good to hear” Bruce almost mumbled. “I hope they are nice.” He turned back to the computer. Damian was a bit smug about getting that reaction from his father, what a long night it was going to be for Bruce.
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inkskinned · 2 years ago
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okay yes it's often bad and hard and sometimes i am so anxious my whole body feels like it's vibrating but also at the same time the gps took me a different way on my drive and i got to see more of the river than i usually do and yesterday the sun was still above the horizon after 7pm and that was amazing and the whole sky turned an orange-gold like how they try to make ice cream taste; you know, one of those evenings that just tears you open no matter how jaded you get. it's warm for the first time here and people had lined up against the water just to stand outside and watch the sunset
and yeah it's tax season no i haven't done mine yet but when i mentioned it offhand in a single side-comment three days later my friend sent me a list of helpful tips and followed up to see if i'd need help on them
there's this parking lot for a walking trail near where i live and one of the two google reviews is my actual favorite: love it here. there were so many beautiful parking spots but sadly we could only take one. and no this person isn't going to go viral and probably the only people navigating to this spot are extremely local - but there's something so precious to me about someone taking the time to write something that will make strangers in their community laugh, even though there's no way for me to tell them good one! directly
yes i am not doing well sometimes i'm doing even very-badly but recently i have been given enough breathing room to say okay, this situation is bad, but then it will be over, and you will be moving onto the next thing and it's true that i need to get groceries and pay rent and argue with my health insurance but it is also true that in the absolute stress and anarchy of my life today someone recognized my dog before they recognized me and was so excited because "they tell everyone about the greyhound in the area and didn't get a picture before so can they take a picture now please"
in class we all stand in a circle and are all grown adults and for a moment while the teacher is figuring something out, we all hold hands, just to be silly and connected. for no reason at all at 8pm on a thursday my friends and i start breaking out the dance moves to high school musical. my coworker gchats me during a meeting about the book he recommended to me and i'm enjoying reading
i help a high school set up for a star-themed dance and while putting up streamers i find graffiti that says if you're reading this, i love you, and we're both going to get out of here right next to fuck everyone, live out of spite, don't let the fuckers make you die. on the bridge where i walk my dog someone has written i love you and on the sidewalk in chalk someone has written i love you and on the side of the water tower someone has written i love you
at the bottom of a text post an internet poet says - i love you, i love you, i love you. i've never met you, i love you because you exist and we exist together. and isnt that enough for now. just for this moment, i mean. like, if you just close your eyes and breathe - somewhere, across this world, i love you, because you're here with me.
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