#sail away with Tim

[britanniabay]

Happy Birthday!!!

[mixingandmelting]

Inconspicuous Relationship

Summary: Everyone in the family thinks the two of you hadn’t tied the knot and keeps playing matchmaker. He, being the troll he is, decides to roll with it

He told you it was going to be fine. To leave it to him; his plan was going to be flawless. Flawless his ass. You’re dying from second-hand embarrassment and Jason’s not helping with that shit-eating grin on his face. 

“You know, Gotham Park is apparently considered one of the prettiest in the city during all four seasons.” Steph starts, sending you a look across the dinner table. “Wouldn’t it be so romantic to go there, especially for a first date?”

You beg to the higher beings that your cringe isn’t visible in your smile as you hummed in agreement. You’ve been enduring this since the beginning of the family dinner where the siblings kept dropping obvious hints for the two of you to get the ship sailing. And Jason being Jason, went along with it all the while ignoring the secret glares you give him. For Pete’s sake, he was even playing footsies under the table!  

“Didn’t you say you had a plan?” You hiss under your breath as Tim and Dick, surprisingly, voice out in agreement how Gotham Park was the last place to go on a date, their expressions speaking for the horrors they’ve seen there. 

“Yeah? Why? You don’t like how my plan’s going so far?” You scowl, kicking his foot away when he prod your foot again with his. He gives you a cheeky smirk in response. 

Checking and seeing Steph getting into a squabble with the other over the apparent controversial site, you lean closer towards him. 

“You call this a plan?”

“If not, then what is it?” He chugs the water in his glass, waving a hand towards them. “Besides, over half of them are grown ups. They’ll get it one way or another.”

If you’re not dying from embarrassment, you’re dying from stress. It’s clear as day that he’s in it for the chaos while you’re simply wanting to rip the bandage and get this over. Just when you’re about to snap at him, you catch Damian staring at both of you across the table. Quickly, you compose yourself, the same smile you had on for Steph now directed at the fourteen year-old.

“What’s wrong Damian? Need something?” 

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, his gaze blank and revealing nothing. You can feel sweat accumulate in your hands, the urge to swat at the man beside you getting stronger at the coughs he lets out that’s meant to cover his laughter. 

“I simply don’t get it.” The teen then takes a bite of his steak and thoughtfully chews on it. “Why can’t Jason simply ask you out for a date when he’s completely smothered for you?” 

Cue the room going completely  dead silent. Well, sans Duke pounding his chest from choking on his food. You would’ve, at least, chuckle at had it not been for you steaming up. 

“D-Damian? Damian buddy?” Dick calls out from his seat, his voice slightly pitched. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t be the only one that’s getting tired of them beating around the bush, Richard. I’m simply spelling it out, that’s all.”

“Damian-“

“No, Damian’s right.” All eyes set on Jason, who puts the silverware down and leans back on his chair. “It’s not like I’ve been really meaning to hide it anyways so,” he turns toward you, “what do you think of Saturday, 1:00 PM at your favorite place you like going to?” 

…You can’t do this. This man and his theatrics; you wanted to scream how he had already asked about it last week. Tell them they’re getting scammed,  it’s not even the first date-! 

But Damian’s words keep echoing in your mind and the fact Jason knows that you know that it’s true is messing with you so badly. It prevents you from trying to calm everyone down, the family up and arms at the “horrible” confession Jason gave as he merely shrugs and asks what else he was supposed to do.  You further baffle them when you muster a nod, your hands still covering your very much burning face. 

Later on, when Bruce comes back from the supposed emergency phone call, he pulls you and Jason to the side. It was one thing to hear Bruce Wayne giving his approval and blessing (for some reason) for you two’s relationship. It was another when finding out this whole thing was indeed staged by both Jason AND Bruce to get back at the rest of the family for a prank that occurred last week during a joint mission as the older man asked the younger if everything went accordingly. 

You decide to give Jason a piece of your mind once the two of you got home which led to him to follow you around and ask you to reconsider calling him by his full name for the rest of the week.

[endomentendo]

Hello! Goodbye! And welcome to-

From the popular indie show “the amazing digital circus” crossing with the classics from Lewis Carroll “Alice Adventures in Wonderland”

Pomni after chasing a white clown, falls into an old computer that transports her into a digital realm of wacky nonsense and comedic irony. Meeting characters of all sorts, always finding herself in a new situation that’ll leave her second guessing if up is left and right is backwards.

Cast lineup & character bios

(Main cast only ‘for now’)

Come join Wonderland! (Bio card template)

Questions and boundaries

1.Can I ship any characters?: Boyo, go crazy! As long you’re safe and respectful, then set sail.

2. Are any of the characters (besides Pomni) human?: All the characters are ai, even the main cast from the series. But headcannon away cause if it keeps you guessing, then it’s alright.

3. Can I make nsfw art?: YES! Please send them to me by @ me. Please be careful and respectful and don’t go too far in the phalic side. Stay safe ;3

4. May I make fanart/fics/collabs/animations/ect?: I think you can answer that :D

5. Why is a raven like a writing desk?: I haven’t the slightest idea!

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

Comics: in a episodic order

Through the looking screen

She forgot how food works

The garden of gloinks

Taking advice from a Mix-a-pillar

Taking directions from a rabbit pt1. Pt2.

Mustard?

Comedy and tragedy

NOTHING? WHATEVER?

Bound in madness Tim burton

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

Doodles

the first digital wonderland content

Kinger as the dodo and Pomni

Can you stand on your head?

zooble and kaufmo doodle

Spark of inspiration for gangle

sun and moon doodledum

of stones and stars!

does C&A mean Gay?

poster in progress say hi to Dave for me ;3

oysters in progress?

The red head got people red ;D

The red means they’re in love

Crossover? In wonderland?

SHE DID WHAT?!

Queenie and Kinger’s old designs

The rabbit has stolen a bow tie

A book page bio

old bio design

older bio design

Showtime

Pomni borger

Loolilau as the duchess

Zombni and Wonderland Pomni are besties @etanow

Abstract Bandersnatch?

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

Paintings

Fallen down the Digital rabbit hole

Official poster: outdated

We’ll meet in the palace of dreams

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

EXPLORE WONDERLAND!

-The mad Tea Party

[moriitis]

How freaky do you think Toby is?

Like, do you think he is into public sex or getting caught being intimate with his partner? Or does he enjoy being intimate with his partner alone?

-🫐🔮 Anon

How freaky is Toby?

Content/Warnings; sex, mentions of public sex, mentions of porn, masturbation, being sexually frustrated, mentions of murder.

Toby 100% at first is a virgin. Like, this man would not have gotten any action before he murdered his father and it's not like he got much action after. (I know him and Clockwork did stuff together and he probably lost his virginity to her.) But even after that, he's still insecure and awkward as fuck! I wouldn't be surprised if a part of him just assumed every woman was the same and there was just some kind of magic button he could flip that would make them orgasm. I don't really think he knows much about himself either? Like, I don't think he's ever sat down and really considered what turns him on or what makes him horny? Like, his dick will just get hard and he'll rub one out to deal with the issue if needed.

And fuck the whole debate of, 'is Toby an ass or titties kind of guy?!' because we all damn well know that this man is both. I don't wanna say this man is horny all the time - but in the end of a day, he's a dude and he's gonna get a lot of random boners that make no fucking sense. And no, he's not gonna suddenly get turned on or aroused if a woman is nice toward him, just more things like if he were to accidentally brush a hand against your waist or you put a hand on his knee. I feel like physical touch is more boner inducing than 'omg she smiled at me, omg shoulders, etc.' LIke, he's down bad but not down, down bad. He's just awkward and despite the little experience he has, he's sailing a ship blind essentially.

Lowkey feel like he has a lot of unrealistic expectations when it comes to sex too. I don't wanna say he lives off porn, but I see him using Pornhub or Twitter occasionally to help him jack off (even his imagination at times when needed but that's hard because he usually ends up thinking of weird shit that turns him off.)

Toby got energy too, depending on the situation and stuff. He will cum within seconds, I'm gonna put that out there but he can continue going until you're satisfied.

Onto the question though, is Toby a freak? I think his freak level will depend on his partner. I'll be honest at times Toby can be a little sex obsessed, he mostly uses pleasure in an attempt to feel something and forget about his problems (but post nut clarity will hit him HARD.) I feel like his sex drive will try to match his partners. You don't want to have sex for months on end? He's fine with that, sure he'll try to initiate something or attempt to turn you on but if you brush him off or say no, he won't persist. He's not one of those asshole guys where sex is expected, if you're not up for it - that's fine! But he'll jack off later to help relieve himself if he's really sexually frustrated. (And yes, since you guys started dating he dropped Pornhub.) Same thing for the other way round, if you wanna have sex everyday, shit, he'll try and keep up!

On the topic of public sex, I'm gonna say no. I think the idea interests him enough but he's not going to pull anything risky. Slender trusts him with going out ito civilisation, he's a wanted criminal and the last thing he wants to get caught for is fucking public indecency. Not only that, but if Slender did find out? If either of you got caught? If he got caught and you got away? I don't know, I don't think he could live with himself and nor does he trust Slender enough to not punish you too. Now, Toby is a notorious rulebreaker though, I think between the other three, Kate, Tim and Brian, Toby is the one that breaks the rules the most. But that would explain why is memory is so fucked up. Plus, he's someone's man now, idk the idea of being in a relationship matures him a little.

If you tried to initiate something in public, he'd probably maybe sternly tell you off a little.

"No, no, n-nnow isn't the time. Let's do this l-la-later, yeah? Be good for me, huh?"

"I'll make you feel good, j-just me n you. Come one."

Like sure he'll get hard at the idea of you being so sexual and the risk of it all, but Toby isn't that fucking stupid. I think the worst part for him would be how tempting it would be, so he'd struggle internally for awhile.

But he'd make it up for when you guys are alone. Considering how awkward he is, he would prefer to do these kinds of things alone. Now, would that stop him from fucking the shit out of you in his car? No! But as long as you're parked up somewhere dark, he don't care. It's not like he would be ashamed for fucking somebody as perfect as you, in fact, it's normal! God damn, what could be worse, public sex or murder?

And yes, he will fuck you with the lights off. He's just insecure, maybe at some point he'll find some confidence to allow light, but as long as he can feel you and hear you - he's satisfied. Although he does love when you ride him when he's sat in the drivers seat of his truck, he loves seeing your facial expressions so close, your hot breath on his lips.

[alt-vera]

— don’t take the girl ⁀➷

▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁

when faced with a life-threatening choice, joel miller makes a surprising confession.

▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁

☆ | joel miller | 1.5k | ❛ don’t take the girl - tim mcgraw ❜

warnings: fluff. slight angst. lowkey soft!joel miller. murder. kissing. age gap.

❝ take the very breath you gave me, take the heart from my chest. i’ll gladly take her place if you’ll let me, make this my last request. take me out of this world, god please, don’t take the girl ❞

▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁

HE DIDN’T MEAN TO BECOME SO ATTACHED.

　Joel could remember the very first minute he met you. The shade of the alleyway casting a low tone over your soft features, a small scrape on your cheek just below your eye.

　Tess had taken you in, explaining that you were the daughter of an old friend from way before all the chaos and destruction. That she remembered meeting you when you were just a baby, barely cooing out words with small chubby fingers that wrapped around her own. That you’d lost your mom a while ago, and had no one else. That you’d been on a mission to find Tess for a long time.

　He didn’t like you at first. Thought you were too soft. It annoyed him how persistent you were, always hovering around him and Tess. Always there. He didn’t like how young you were, and he was convinced that you’d somehow fuck up one of their deals if you were there, or that you’d somehow get killed in the process. Or worse, get him killed.

　It wasn’t until he saw you in action that he gave in a bit. Saw how you’d really survived all those years on your own. Saw how you ripped yourself free from a raider on one of their trips out of the QZ, how you’d so effortlessly pulled your knife across the taut skin of the raiders throat, blood splattering onto the soft apples of your cheeks as you watched the man fall, no emotion crossing those deep eyes of yours that always seemed so expressive. They were blank in that moment, as if you had watched a man’s life leave his body a million times. As if you were used to it.

　He couldn’t believe how you’d smiled at him so softly that same night while a fire flickered between the two of you, mere hours after the whole scene. How could you still be so sweet after killing a man as if it were plain sailing?

　He couldn’t help but let his mind wander to a darker place. How many people had you killed?

　He didn’t like to think about such a kind young woman slashing a man as if he were a bug she were squishing.

　After that, he began letting you come on runs with him.

　It was supposed to be a routine mission in the city, grabbing supplies and trades at a drop point to smuggle back into the QZ. Neither of you were expecting a struggle, not to mention an ambush, but in the world you lived in the unexpected always seemed to happen.

　Inside the drop point, which was an abandoned warehouse, rotting and dilapidated, you’d let your guard down. Your gun was placed on an old crate as you poked around while Joel, only a few feet away from you, checked to make sure everything that had been promised was delivered.

　You didn’t see the man coming up behind you, didn’t hear his uneven breaths or the crunching of old glass beneath his feet.

　He grabbed your arm, nearly tearing your shoulder out of it’s socket as he pulled you like a shield across his chest. The cold barrel of his pistol pressed against your temple, his grip like iron, bruising your supple skin.

　Joel heard the struggle and whipped around instantly, eyes wild and frantic as he held his gun out in front of him, not sure where to aim that wouldn’t get you shot in the crossfire.

　“Put your gun down!” The man behind you screamed, his voice so loud that your ear drums rang. You watched everything in slow-motion as Joel carefully put his rifle down, raising his hands as he did so. A stray bead of perspiration ran down your spine.

　“Just let her go, n’we can talk,” Joel attempted to reason, but was met with silence broken by the mans ragged breaths as he pressed the gun further into your temple, the metal creating a building pressure in your head, leaving an imprint in its wake.

　“There’s no talking here,” The man spat, “Someone ripped me off. I don’t know who it was, but somebody here is paying for it. It’s either you or the girl, old man. You choose.”

　Your pulse quickened as your eyes trained on Joel, who’s face wrinkled as he tried to figure out some sort of solution. You tried to speak with your eyes, tried to tell him that it was okay. That he could get out of here and take the stuff back to the QZ, and leave you to your fate. You were fine with it.

　But Joel wasn’t. “I’ll take her place, if you’ll let me,” He said quietly, his words slicing through you. “Just please, don’t take the girl.”

　You wanted to scream at him, but you stayed quiet, lips locked shut and body shaking with fear and adrenaline.

　You heard the gunshot, and your eyes closed on impact. You only inched them open when you felt the pressure on your head leave, and heard the sound of a body hit the floor. When your eyelids lifted, there stood Joel, small handgun that was presumably in his back pocket resting with it’s aim towards the floor, his hands shaking.

　You slowly looked to the ground beside you, and there laid your assailant, blooding and bits of brain pooling on the concrete around him with a fresh hole in his forehead. The gun that had been so dangerous in his hands only moments ago now laid slackly in his limp palm.

　“Goddamn it!” You could faintly hear Joel yell, his words falling on deaf ears. “See this—This is what i was worried about.”

　Joel was in front of you in an instant, rough hands cupping your cheeks as he examined you for any sort of injury, eyes lingering on the crisp indent from the barrel that stayed on your temple.

　“I thought i’d lose you,” He breathed out softly, anger leaving the bones of his body, hot air fanning your face as he fought to calm down his anxiety. He pulled you into him, surprising you as he wrapped his arms around you in a bone-crushing hug.

　Your voice was muffled against the flannel of his shirt. “I thought you didn’t like me.”

　“I’d have traded places with you in an instant.” His words were heavy against the shell of you ear, and you pulled away from his grasp, eyes studying him carefully. There was no denying the terror that still lingered in the dark hue of his iris’, and how deep his worry lines were creased as he frowned down at you.

　“You’re around so much that I—I can’t imagine what it’d be like if you weren’t,” He continued, “Don’t want to.”

　“I would’ve given him everything i had,” He carried on, “Would’ve given him the damn heart out of my chest if it meant he’d take my life instead’a yours.”

　You figured this was Joel’s messed up version of a confession. So, without words, you kissed him, and he deepened it with long buried affection and protectiveness. Two things you didn’t think Joel Miller was capable of.

　“Let’s get out’f here,” He said after he had pulled away. His words brought you back into the atmosphere, struggling to tame your wildly beating heart as you remembered the dangerous predicament you could potentially still be in. “Don’t know if it was just him, or if there’s more.”

　You nodded, taking one of the duffle bags of supplies onto your shoulders. It made you lean to the side slightly from the weight, and a rare chuckle escaped Joel’s lips. He took the bag from your shoulder, putting both onto one arm and slinging his rifle onto the other.

　“I got it,” He said, “Jus’ watch my six.”

　During the trip back to the QZ, it seemed as if nothing had changed between the two of you. But it did. There was a newfound tension in the air, one that spoke of the kiss you shared in the warehouse, and how Joel would lay his life on the line for you. It sparked with the electricity of intimacy and a fucked up version of love.

　It was an unspoken agreement between the two of you that neither of you would tell Tess about what had happened. About the ambush, or the kiss. But you and Joel would know. You and Joel would know that there was now some sort of feelings between the two of you. A new connection that would be acted upon on late nights and moments alone together. The kind that was shared within knowing looks and small grins to one another. Fleeting touches when no one’s watching, and memorized whispered pleas of trading your life for his.

[kinnsporsche]

yeah there's no way this breakup is sticking not with the way this episode started not with tim making it so clear that buck wants a future with tommy and tommy so clearly wants it too he's just scared of having his heart broken oliver said something in an interview about how the best relationships have an aspect of longing to it and there is. there's going to be so much longing because they want each other and they love each other every single relationship on the show has had angst (this is a procedural drama) i would be more worried if things were all just smooth sailing for them if they didn't have any angst or hiccups in their relationship. they both walked away from each other heartbroken but trust me when i say that this just means they'll walk back to each other with so much more security in their relationship

[mesapies]

Canon lgbtq+ avatar characters

Korra and asami - bisexual

Kya - lesbian

Kyoshi - bisexual

rangi - lesbian

Zeisan (sozins sister) and her lover Rioshon - sapphic (I think zeisan is a lesbian but I'm not 100% sure)

Mingxia and her gf Melin - sapphic

Zenko (left) and his named husband - gay

Katara saved zenko and their daughter chio from a fire nation attack

Akuudan and tayagum - gay

Akuudan and his husband tayagum were water tribe warriors that helped avatar yangchen

Hua and Rose - sapphic

from the avatar legends the roleplaying game - core book. Rose was a wealthy girl who purse was attempted to be stolen by Hua a firebending criminal but they later fell in love

Dalja Rose - trans(I think)

from the avatar legends the roleplaying game - core book. Attended fire academy fir girls when they realized they didn't truly feel like a girl.

Jiang - gay

From adventure booklet: the burning fuse. He's a detective from republic city who gained airbending through the harmonic convergence

Junyi - gay

from the avatar legends the roleplaying game - core book. He was a earth nation Outlaw during the time of roku. Hes was swordsmith who fell in love with one of his clients. The two men were set to run away together, but his lover's wife, the mayor of the town, discovered their affair. She had her husband killed and pinned the crime on Junyi. (Messy as hell)

Makittuq - trans woman

from the avatar legends the roleplaying game - core book. She's northern water tribe girl from the tims of roku who knew she assigned the wrong gender since birth. When her family didn't accept her she connected with sports who did

Massak and nyn chei - sapphic ex lovers

from the avatar legends the roleplaying game - core book. During the time of roku, Massak was a swt boatwright and inventor and he ex lover nyn chei was a fire nation inventor and engineer who'd inventions helped create the new fire navy coal fuled fleet.

Mayu - trans man

from the avatar legends the roleplaying game - republic city. From republic city him and his friends Yuka and Saya ran away together after mayu came out to his traditional fire nation family who didn't accept him.(im think Yuka is non binary as well)

Mosi and his husband sayako - gay

From adventure booklet: pirate of crimson sails. From a fire nation colony as a earth nation guy. Mosi as an adult became a pirate working to go against azulon. He later fell in love with a firebender, sayako. They married and had a daughter, lily

Sunlin - non binary

from the avatar legends the roleplaying game - quicksart. They were a joyful and idealistic orphan from Harbor City, and a former member of the Fire Finches during the late stages of the Hundred Year War

Wen - non binary

From avatar generations. Wen was an Earth Kingdom archaeologist broadly interested in relics. They explored the four nations in pursuit of their studies.

Netxflix Oma and shu - sapphics

Aiwei (left) - said to be gay but I couldn't find anything confirming

Jargala (right) - her artist said that she's pansexual but there's nothing confirming it

Unnamed gay air nomads and fire nation sapphics(getting arrested) from when kya was explaining to Korrasami the different views on gay ppl in the different nations

[torscrawls]

A Ghost by Any Other Name

Danny tries to discreetly combat the ghosts suddenly showing up in Gotham without anyone finding out his secret, find out exactly why the ghosts have decided to follow him like lost ducklings after his narrow escape from his hometown, keep under the radar of both the Bats and his parents, not melt any more than he already has, and not worry his new and innocent friend Tim. Who knew that running away from home would be this stressful?

Wordcount: 1,620

Chapter 1/10

Can be read on AO3!

This fic has art from the wonderful and talented Luca!

---

Tim was just exiting his favorite coffee-shop when he was suddenly tackled by a shouting woman. “My baby! There you are!”

He watched his innocent cup of quintuple-shot espresso sail through the air and splatter across the sidewalk at the same time as he registered her muscular arms and the clear press of several weapons strapped to her body. Not a normal civilian then.

Right. Priorities.

The woman kept her strangle-hold on him as she continued, “Thank goodness you finally managed to get away from that terrible ghost!”

Tim twisted to get his attacker off him. Then he noticed that he wasn’t held in any of the multitude of restraining holds that he had been trained to escape. No, it was something a lot stranger than that. It was a hug.

“I think you have the wrong person,” he managed to get out as he tried to ease her off him, finally registering her earlier words and mentally readjusting the scenario towards a case of misunderstanding rather than an attack. Hopefully. It wouldn’t be the first time a villain took a roundabout way of getting to him, even if he had to say a hug was quite a nice way of going about it.

And that was the moment he noticed the frankly ridiculously big man bounding towards them with a wide smile and tears streaming down his face. He wasn’t slowing down. Oh shit.

He patted the woman on the back to get her attention since she seemed completely unaware of their impending doom. “Um…”

She only squeezed him harder and said, “God! It’s been so long! We were so worried!”

Tim’s bad feeling turned into dread. “… We?”

Then the man slammed into both of them with a wail of, “Danno!” 

The air rushed out of Tim as he was squashed between the two strangers. He might have been robbed of his morning coffee but he couldn’t deny that he was wide awake by now. Cass would be proud, and laugh her ass off. Tim vowed to never let her know about this.

After what felt like an eternity and what was surely a few cracked ribs, the woman disentangled herself from the hug with practiced ease that would put Catwoman to shame. She somehow managed to get the man to let Tim go and after a few seconds of struggling to breathe, Tim managed to wheeze out, “What's a Danno?!”

Then he was staring down the barrel of a gun. He tried to quell his instinct to kick it out of the woman’s hands, but it was the middle of the morning rush, and they were standing on a fairly well trafficked sidewalk, where even if people were smart enough to give the gun-wielding-maniacs—ergo, possible villains—a wide berth, it didn't mean they weren't staring.

Tim slowly raised his hands in a disarming gesture as he thought of a way to get out of this. So far they hadn’t made any demands. They also hadn’t harmed him (except his coffee and his wounded pride). Tim just wished he knew what this was about. So far he had been hugged twice, then had a gun aimed at his face. A gun that glowed green, emitted a worryingly high-pitched whine, and was very clearly home-made. Wonderful.

As Tim looked between the woman and the man he noted how both of their expressions had gone from relief and love to cold and hateful in the blink of an eye. He tensed, ready to disarm her, no matter the people around them. He refused to get himself shot before lunch.

The woman’s hands were steady—even though Tim noted that one of her hands were wrapped in bandages, and how both she and the man looked like they hadn’t slept in days—and her voice was flat as she said, “Phantom might still be overshadowing him.”

Tim frowned as both of them looked intensely into his eyes and after a few tense seconds the woman gave a satisfied nod. “The ghost is gone. You're safe now.”

She lowered the gun but Tim’s frown only deepened. “Ghost? What ghost?” 

The man and woman exchanged looks which only served to confuse him even more. 

“Honey,” the woman said in a soft voice, holstering her gun before placing a hand on Tim’s arm. He shook her off. “Honey, you were kidnapped by Phantom. It overshadowed you. You’ve been missing for a long time! That's probably why you can't remember anything.”

The man nodded along. “We’ve followed you to several cities. You must be exhausted!”

They seemed genuinely distraught by what they were saying but that didn't change the fact that they were absolutely insane.

Tim shook his head. “Look, you’re clearly confused. I’m not—”

He didn’t get to finish before the big man patted Tim on the shoulder with enough force to make him stumble. “Come on, now. It’s time to go home!”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Tim bit out, his patience running out. He was almost certainly late to his meeting by now, he didn’t have his coffee, and these two seemed allergic to making any kind of sense. “Who the fuck even are you?”

“Language young man!” The woman with the gun admonished him at the same time as the hulking man shook his head with a disapproving, “Is that any way to address your folks?” 

“My what?!”

These people were absolutely crazy. He already had one unstable parent which was more than enough, thank you very much. He had to get away from them. He took a few steps backwards. The big man stepped with him.

“Son. We know you must be scared, but—” 

“Why would you think I'm your son?!” And what kind of parents would be so ready to pull a gun on their child?

The man slammed a meaty fist into his other hand. “Is this something Phantom put you up to? Oh, when I get my hands on that ghost I’ll—”

The woman grabbed Tim’s arm in a startlingly strong grip. “Are you sure you’re okay, honey? Did that pesky ghost mess with your head?”

“I’m not your son!” Tim exclaimed with increasing desperation. He slapped her hand away. “And stop touching me!”

At this she paused, wide eyes fixed on him, before they narrowed sharply.

The man’s eyes fixed on the side of his neck as he slowly said, “What happened to your scar…?”

The woman finally drew back from him. “Daniel would never hit—”

“Wait a minute…” the man said as he pointed an accusatory finger at Tim. “You're not Daniel!”

Tim groaned as he dragged a hand through his hair. “That's what I've been saying the whole time!”

“Oh!” The woman tilted her head with a calculating look in her eyes that made a shiver of discomfort crawl up Tim’s spine. “But you really do look similar. You both have dark hair and blue eyes.”

Tim waited for more attributes that he shared with this mysterious Daniel, but nothing else came. That was why they had mistaken him for their son? His hair and eye color? …Shouldn’t they be a bit more familiar with what their own son looked like?

The man rubbed at his shin. “Did we have another son?”

“Ha!” the woman laughed, “Of course not, honey. We wouldn’t forget that!”

Tim wasn’t so sure, but he didn’t want to risk starting another argument with these people. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder and awkwardly said, “So, I have to get going. It was… interesting meeting you.”

“Yes! Right! We need to keep looking!” The man straightened up and then screamed at the sky, “Don’t worry, son! We’re coming for you!”

Tim winced, both at the volume and at tomorrow’s headlines which he could already see in his mind’s eye. ‘Wayne Enterprise’s young CEO Tim Wayne caught roughhousing in the streets’. His family would not let him live this down for weeks.

“So sorry for the inconvenience,” the woman said as she lowered goggles over her eyes and took out what looked like some sort of tracking device from somewhere on her jumpsuit. She didn’t sound sorry at all. She continued under her breath, “Phantom should still be in the city… We won't let it get away again.”

And Tim was fairly certain that they should be more focused on finding their apparently missing son than hunting down some ghost, but who was he to judge? And he really didn’t want to get involved in this situation any more than he already had.

The man didn’t even try to apologize as he, once again, slapped Tim on the shoulder with enough force to make him stagger. “It was nice meeting you, young man! And remember; the only good ghost is a dead one!”

“Aren’t all ghosts dead…?”

That made the man boom out a laugh loud enough to make Tim wince. “I like your humor! If you ever get into any trouble with the undead just give us a call!”

Tim didn’t even know their names, but didn’t have time to ask before the woman exclaimed something about a reading and they both took off down the street on a run.

Whoever their missing son was, Tim hoped he stayed far away from them.

His eyes landed on his spilled coffee and Tim heaved a sigh as he turned back towards the coffee-shop. He would have to call in late, but he refused to face any more of this day without caffeine. 

He had more important things to focus on than Bruce getting some competition in the adoption-department. Oh, well. He probably wouldn't see them again.

At least he could console himself with the fact that ghosts aren't real.

[trashland-llamas]

Fork in the Road

x gn reader

Plot bunny/ramble based off the one Cells! At Work episode where the rbc tries to navigate the circulatory system & wbc follows her, making sure it goes well. Instead it’s the batfam w/ their vigilante identities and Reader.

Reader who tends to be easily taken advantage of by Gotham locals, what with being a transplant to the area. But one day they decide they want to learn how to navigate the city, as in go through all the train and subways lines. And then at the end, figure their way back home. It starts with Dick in Bludhaven, riding on top of the train in his Nightwing attire with a clear view of Reader sitting in an aisle seat. Showing their ticket to the conductor, smooth sailing ahead. He’s noticed by a few Gothamites who just hope that his presence doesn’t make them late to work.

‘You’re being a creep. I don’t know how Reader hasn’t spotted you.’ Jason tells him, coming to take the next shift as they had started to encroach on Jason’s patrol territory. ‘I just want to keep them safe.’ Once again, everything goes well as the ghost that was the Red Hood lurking close by. No one dared bother Reader with their scary guard dog privilege equipped. They get spun around a few times and Jason has to stop himself from helping or comforting them. Dick strictly said they only could if it was life or death. So he instead watches from the shadows as Reader pulls out their phone and successfully corrects course. ‘Tag, you’re it.’ Is all he says to Damian after exiting the subway.

Damian helps them get to the edges of the city so Tim can then do the dutiful job of supervising them on their way back to the center. Damian isn't nearly as watchful as Jason or Dick. Oddly defending their choice. Getting into an argument over the phone with the others, 'You all told them to be more self-sufficient. That's why we taught them self defense. For fucks sake, have a little more faith in them.' Hanging up, he places a tracker on their backpack. A last ditch effort in case they did end up lost and unable to find their way back. At the very least to keep his brothers from breathing down his neck.

Tim has the easiest job as Reader's able to apply everything they've learned up to that point. He's not even dressed in his usual Robin attire when he walks straight up to them. The weekly family dinner taking place at the manor and Bruce told them to invite Reader. An invitation that they had agreed to, dressing casual. It wasn't a gala, they reasoned. The duo is two stops away from their destination. Making light conversation, 'heading to the manor?'

'Oh, hey Tim.' While it wasn't out of the norm for him to take public transport, he was a known figure. Wouldn't it be better to travel via Bruce's private car? 'Having a good day so far?' Reader lets out a long 'eh' sound, exhausted by their travels. But ends up yapping all about their adventure into the city. Tim perfectly acts as if he hadn't been following them for the past few hours. By the time they finish, they're at the manor's door with Alfred to greet them. They happily sigh at the thought of a nice, hot meal surrounded by familiar company.

[ephemerensis]

Steamroller // Tim Drake x GN! Reader

happy new year! little enemies to lovers kind of thing kind of (theyre just like on opposite ends and they don’t really know it). stalker update for all interested parties: i think he’s starting to lose interest and give up 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️! also i graduated! yippee! NOT proofread.

—

Your favorite nights were ones like these, windswept and carefree as you sped down an empty street on your motorbike. With the last of your tasks wrapped up for the week, it was smooth sailing until the next rotation. Or so you thought before you heard a familiar grating voice bark at you, swinging into the view of your side mirror and chucking something at you.

Switching lanes, you narrowly avoided the batarang that came whizzing by. This guy again. Swinging your bike back around, you pushed the brakes to screech to a halt.

“Nice try bat rat, maybe aim next time!”

If it wasn’t so dark, you’d see the scowl plastered on his face as he stalked towards you. Red Robin hated you, and that was an understatement. Which was fine, you didn’t like him much either.

“Didn’t need to,” he spat. Pressing a button on his suit started up something like the sound of metal scraping pavement behind you. Before you could react, the sharp little object he threw at you came reeling back where it came, and the wheezing sound of your back tire losing air came with it. He threw a grappling hook at you.

“You’ve got to be joking.” In a way, it was your fault for taunting the guy. But this was the sixth encounter this week, if he wasn’t constantly out to get you, you’d think he were in love.

“What were you doing at the rendezvous point Penguin set up?” He stalked towards you, for what you weren’t sure. Sometimes he just wanted to provoke you, other times he’d just go for the swing. But you didn’t have time for that today.

“Intel, not that it’s your business.” You ripped a patch out from your utility belt, slapping it on the tire he just rudely tore a hole in before applying pressure to see if it’d last the way back.

“I’ll decide what my business is.”

“You stalking me everywhere says otherwise.” The tire sank more than you would’ve liked, but it would do. He stopped ten feet in front of you; looks like he didn’t want to fight tonight either. You rummaged through your pockets for good measure.

“I am not stalking you. You’re just where trouble happens to be.”

“Yeah. If that helps you sleep at night.” When your fingers brushed against the smooth plastic you were searching for, you mounted the bike again, turning on the headlights and adjusting your mirrors. It’s important to drive safe. “Anyways! Move.”

“What-“ Before he could finish his thought you pushed on the accelerator, watching him dive out of the way. It’s a shame his reflexes were so fast, if you ran him over he’d be out of commission for at least a month.

You tossed the plastic discs behind you as you sped off, leaving a flush of smoke behind you. He was good, but he wouldn’t be able to trace you with this.

Mercenary work never really was for you, let alone vigilante work. But growing up poor in Gotham and constantly grappling with loan sharks and the other unsavory groups your parents brought upon your family taught you a few things. And you found out you were pretty good at getting things done, the sneakier stuff: spying, stealing, occasionally taking out single targets, the quiet things. It felt bad but being hungry felt worse, survival of the fittest or something like that.

You were so good you paid it all off, and made a profit; enough to get yourself and your brother through college, and give the ol’ crime lords the slip. And things were good.

You liked your 9 to 5 office job, sorting through papers and typing on your laptop. You liked talking to your neighbors and inviting them over on the occasion for taco night. You liked your partner and the cozy apartment you lived in together.

Until your useless brother threw it all away, talking to the wrong people, getting into debt again, throwing around your name where it would mean anything, and it was square one.

So now you’re here. Running from some vigilante freak that has it out for you when you haven’t even done anything all that bad; it’s the people you work for he should be worried about. Instead he wants to breathe down your neck every night of the week, and he fails, every time. Maybe that was why he got so mad, as if there aren’t bigger fish to fry.

When you got back to your apartment, it was almost three in the morning. Slipping in as quietly as you could manage, you breathed a sigh of relief to find all the lights still off. Your boyfriend, Tim, always sleeps with a night light on, something about being scared of the dark. Lucky for you, he worked ungodly hours which made sneaking around a lot easier.

You’d just slipped into your pajamas when you heard the front door open and someone flicked the lights on. You could tell Tim was frustrated by the way he walked, brisk and heavy as he tugged off his coat and tossed his tie into the abyss. But he softened when he saw you, stopping in his tracks with an almost guilty look on his face, like he was sorry for feeling anything but joy in your presence.

“Oh hey, were you waiting up for me? I told you not to.” You shook your head, making your way over to press a kiss to his cheek and hold his hands. They were still cold from outside, the walk from the parking garage must’ve been treacherous.

“Are you okay?,” you asked, running your thumbs over the back of his hands. They were rough hands, surprising for a rich boy, but in your palms they were always so gentle.

He let out a breath, laughing a little before settling into a rueful smile, “I can’t get anything past you, can I? I’m okay. Just work stuff.”

“What kind of work stuff?” You tightened your grip on him, tugging him over to sit with you on the couch. He complied, leaning on your shoulder as he sunk into the cushions.

“Just something I can’t quite… resolve.” He sounded so tired. Business always went well, and Tim was a genius, it was a wonder how he ran into so many problems in the office. Sometimes you wanted to reach into that pretty skull of his and take a peek into his brain, maybe he was just overthinking things, or maybe you’d finally understand that you could never understand. Both would soothe you.

“Yet. Everything works out in time, and you’re the best I know. Can I help?” You felt him tense when you ran your hand over his shoulder, pulling away immediately to check on him. But before you could manage to ask he reached for you, shaking his head.

“No. It’s sensitive material. I’m okay,” he insisted, leaning on you again as he perched his arms neatly where they would fit around you. “Can we just stay like this for awhile?”

It was a good thing he never asked for anything malicious, because you’d say yes to just about anything he asked.

“Yeah.” You’d never known power so intimately before you held his skull to your chest. The way he surrendered himself and was whole, shedding the burdens of his responsibilities entirely to be vulnerable for a moment. But it was coupled by an intense fear, that his trust was rare and very easily abused or misguided if you weren’t careful. And if you weren’t, it felt as if he wouldn’t ever be vulnerable again.

“Thank you, and I love you,” he whispered. Your tired, hardworking boy.

“I love you more,” you answered.

It turns out the “I’m okay” business was a massive tri-colored bruise that bloomed on his left arm. He was careful to hide it, and if you didn’t wake up a little earlier than usual you would never have known. You didn’t ask, clearly he didn’t want you to, but you were concerned— and moreso curious. He did spar with his siblings, this you knew, but they’d never do something like that to him. Maybe he was sleep deprived and got stuck between the elevator doors somehow, you wouldn’t put it past him. If you had time later, you could check in while he’s in the office, drop off dinner or something to make sure he wasn’t getting picked on.

You got up an hour after him, as you always did. There was a rhythm to your morning routine that you adored, it was comfortable; reliable. Tim made the coffee, and you made breakfast. When you first moved in together he’d offered to cook, being the one to get up first and all, but he was hopeless. Anything beyond instant noodles was a fire and food safety hazard. And you made a mean scrambled egg.

You cooked so he did the dishes, a compromise you never objected to— it was your least favorite house chore. You’d loop his tie for him when he was done, and he’d kiss you on the forehead to leave first. Your job started a little later.

At least it would if you hadn’t requested a temporary leave of absence while you worked for Gotham’s worst. You had to report whatever intel you gathered yesterday night to Black Mask. He’d have another assignment for you after, you were sure. But if you were efficient with these things, it could all be over in a month or so.

That’s what you told yourself as you waved him out the door. Thursday nights Tim usually got back at a human hour, if you could wrap up business early you could be home by the time he was too.

Black Mask was waiting for you by the time you got there, unsurprisingly. It never got easier looking at him, freakish and impossible to read, behind his skeletal metal teeth.

“Penguin’s plan?” He’d asked before you had the chance to fully enter the room, eager as ever to maintain his grasp on power. Breathing isn’t worthwhile unless you’re winning he told you once.

“He wants to spread some influenza with his birds. It’s not serious, but the cure he’s selling is. It’s highly addictive and one of a kind. I got photos on this drive.” You placed it on the man’s desk, pushing it towards him as far as you’d dared. “He’s colluding with the woman who runs the second biggest pharm-tech company in the city. It has a six week timeline, some of it was in motion last week so five from here out.”

“Okay.” Without missing a beat he’d already decided your next assignment, “get me the cure.”

“Four people have access. A team or a raid would be better suited.” You took a breath to answer him. This wasn’t possible, at least not easily. It wasn’t a job you wanted to take, and it wasn’t practical. Money wasn’t Black Mask’s pursuit, it should’ve been enough just to thwart his enemies, not profit from them.

“I don’t pay you to argue.”

You had to swallow the fear that crept up your throat. Fear of death was always within reach, that much was obvious when you took on mercenary work, but the fear Black Mask brought on was a little more primal. Something instinctual you had to ignore.

You couldn’t take this job. The both of you knew it would go over the hours you were signed for, anything that could arouse suspicion from your normal life was carved into stone as off limits. Tim couldn’t know, that was the rule. And this assignment could take you weeks, “…it breaches our contract.”

“I pay overtime. And let me remind you, you’re in no position to say otherwise.”Disagreeing twice was a hefty endeavor and the man was right, you had your brother to consider. It’s always funny, the way you think you have any say in things. “Get me the cure.”

You didn’t have time to pack up, leave a note, or meal prep dinner. It was burdensome to disappear, at least a little. But Tim would be okay; hurt, but okay. It’s not like he’d miss you terribly, he was working over-overtime as it was, and you hoped he would forgive you when you got back.

So you vanished. It was quiet work, mostly tailing people to get a lead, working to worm your way in to the right social circles, sorting through files while people slept.

Red Robin was looking for you, or at least investigating your activity. He’d have caught you a few times now if you weren’t more focused on working during the day. Not that he knew what was going on, that much was evident. Not that he would be able to do anything if he did run into you again anyway, that boy just kept losing. Or maybe he didn’t want to win.

It was hard to know what his objective was. Just that he thought you were bad news and made things harder than they needed to be. But he did intrigue you. Righteous Red Robin never fought dirty and it was a little flattering how he was insistently so hot on your trail. Maybe you’d tease him about it after this whole ordeal and he could throw another grappling hook at you.

It only took two weeks to gather enough standing in Penguin’s sphere to have access to his office. With all the snooping you’d done, you knew every possible password and key you’d need to access the files for Black Mask. If you broke in tonight, you’d be by daylight. Theoretically.

So you took to it. It wasn’t hard to break in once you knew where everything was. Nothing was terribly discreet, just about as hidden as valuables would be in someone’s home. Getting into the main computer was a breeze, you’d talked up enough patrons and underlings for them to spill every access code they knew. As you slipped in a USB to transfer the remaining files you needed, a familiar set of footsteps sounded behind you.

Brisk, decided, and determined to be quiet, you knew he was lurching forward with a right hook before you had the chance to turn around. You jerked your body out of the way before he could make contact, putting as much distance between the two of you as you could manage. Thankfully the file transfer already started before he rudely interrupted your heist, you just needed to buy time.

“Can we not do this today?” You couldn’t help the annoyance creeping under your skin; Red Robin’s timing couldn’t have been worse. If he’d shown up ten minutes later you would’ve been gone. Of all the times to barge in, he chose to when you were just about done.

But he was faster than he usually was, before your thoughts could finish flowing through your skull he was throwing something at you again; muttering a sharp, “shut up,” in tandem. A gasp left you as it grazed your cheek, he’d never drawn blood before, even so minutely.

Before you had a chance to react he was on you, swinging his staff with enough force to kill a man. It was all you could do to avoid it before the next swing came, overbearing and deadly, unlike you’d ever seen from him. Any ounce of annoyance left in you evaporated in favor of fear and adrenaline, he was angry.

“What is your problem? If this is about running you over, I knew you’d dodge it!” The knives you had tucked away in your boot straps were useless, you didn’t have time to reach for them and even if you had them there were no openings to intervene. With a stroke of luck, he hit the wall hard enough for his staff to get stuck, giving you enough time to make a run for the window. The files would have to wait.

Just as you were reaching to pull up on the windowsill, a batarang caught the fabric of your shoulder, pinning you to the wall. Another grazed your outreached hand, distancing you further from your escape route.

If you were scared of Black Mask, you were terrified of Red Robin. Or at least, this state of him. You’d never noticed before how the whites of his mask looked like headlights, barreling towards a sundered deer. With whatever cognition you had left, your uninjured hand reached for the dagger in your boot, but you were slow and he wasn’t feeling gracious. He grabbed your wrist with one hand, pinning it next to your shoulder, and with the other he jerked you forward by your collar.

A glimpse of metal hanging on your neck made his scowl deepen and you winced for whatever he would throw at you next. But instead of a punch or getting hit with a blunt object, you felt the release of pressure when he snapped the dainty silver chain from you.

“Where did you get this?” he barked. There was something off about the way he said it, untethered. The necklace in question wasn’t something controversial; a chain with a pendant Tim had inscribed with his initials next to yours.

It wasn’t particularly valuable, nothing anyone would steal, but it meant something untouchable to you. Exactly eight months into dating he told you he loved you for the first time and presented you with it. The letters were rough around the edges from mistakes in sanding and carving when he etched the metal for you himself. And now it was being dangled in front of you, a reminder of all you could stand to lose if things went wrong. So easily snatched from you, as if they never belonged in the first place.

“Give it back.” You moved to sweep your leg under his feet, kick him, whatever you could to get it back and get out. It wasn’t fair in the slightest, he should know it wasn’t something to steal. But he just tightened his grip on your wrist and kneed your ribs once hard enough for you to keel over and stop moving.

“Where did you get this?” His anger was building, you could hear, but you didn’t care much anymore. He didn’t have the right.

“It’s mine,” you spat through gritted teeth.

“Liar.” A pang of confusion hit you, as if this were something to lie about. He was in your face now, and you glared back behind your own mask. If he didn’t back off soon you had half a resolve to bite his nose off. “What did you do to the owner? This is your last chance.”

Like Red Robin could do anything to you. You felt like a dog backed into a corner, sure enough. But upper hand or not, no one wins in a fight against a rabid dog, even if you manage to put it down.

“And I’m telling you for the last time, it’s mine.” But if you get put down, you can’t crawl back. The courage behind your words was starting to sound like desperation. “My boyfriend gave it to me and you need to give it back.”

And then your resolve was gone altogether, a plea more than a demand, for absolution. Your voice quivered on the last few words, maybe it was for the better, it seemed like that was the only part he heard anyway.

The blood in your wrist started flowing again as he let go of it, looking at you with something akin to terror. Swallowing lead, you considered taking the chance to run; rip the sleeve that was caught and book it. But something held you there, vulnerability? Or some deviant of the terror he was feeling. Your legs wouldn’t move now.

He was slow in reaching for your mask. You must’ve been slower, because you didn’t stop him. You couldn’t do anything at all, not with the way your heart was pounding in your ears. Everything in you was screaming all at once, but you couldn’t understand a thing they were saying and it was getting hard to breathe.

You squinted to adjust your vision once the mask was off, and something wet slid down your cheek. Dust must’ve gotten under the thing, you weren’t one to cry.

“Y/N?” He’d caught you and you let it happen. You heard the chain clink on the floor, and you were so sorry to Tim that you let it happen. Soiled something he put time into. Maybe it was fitting, you always took that boy for granted.

You flinched when he reached for you, pressing your eyes shut. But Red Robin didn’t cuff you like you expected. Knock you out, threaten you, chain you to a street lamp outside for the police to collect. Instead you felt arms wrap around you, hefty and secure, a welcoming warmth in juxtaposition to the cold, stagnant office air. And you knew these arms, and you knew this feeling, and you knew this scent.

“Tim?” It came out like a squeak, you didn’t intend that.

And then his head was buried in your shoulder again, his spot as it’d always been. “I thought someone took you.”

He took the liberty of freeing you from the wall first, and you dropped to the floor. Your knees felt like jello. It made sense, some of it. The late nights and the injuries.

“Without a ransom note?” you murmured. You didn’t know what else to say. It’d been Tim the whole time.

“Don’t joke.” He knelt beside you, tucking a stray strand behind your ear. After the shock, the guilt came barreling in. You caused his injuries. You got in his way. You ran away without saying anything. You’d been hurting him the whole time.

“I’m sorry.” You squeaked for the second time. After the guilt was the confliction. You didn’t know to do. Half reaching for him, half shying away.

So Tim grabbed your hands, stilling you completely with just that. He pulled a strip of cloth out of his belt to wrap around the palm he cut moments before. It was shallow, nothing that would scar.

He was probably as confused as you were, quiet to sort out the events as they’d unfolded— and the before. There was a lot to ask and a lot to explain, you wouldn’t know where to start. And if you did start, you didn’t know if you could stop. It was too much. You were tired. There were time constraints. The first bit of reality slipped itself into your mind, the two of you weren’t the only two in the world and you were here on a job. “Please don’t ask, I’ll tell you when I have the heart but please don’t ask. I might cry. I’m sorry.”

“You’re already crying.” His thumbs brushed your tears away as if just to prove it. But they stayed after, running the pad of his fingers over your cheeks for as long as you’d let him. A soothing pattern.

“Am I? I’m sorry.” Your eyes were locked onto him, and you knew he was looking back even if his eyes weren’t visible. The longer you stared, the more the tears seemed to flow. And you couldn’t fathom why you were crying.

“For what?” He said it as if nothing were wrong, and that’s all it took for the dam to burst. Flinging your arms around him to cry your worth into his shoulders. You didn’t deserve this boy.

“I love you,” you sobbed.

“I love you more,” he answered.

[thefandomdirtymind]

Hello! I saw your post you're open for a request and I was wondering if I could I have OPLA Sanji?

About Sanji fall in love towards reader but reader was hesitate and unsure if Sanji is being sincere it's like she's having trust issues since Sanji is considered a ladies' man or flirty and was afraid he'll broke her heart?

A/N IMPORTANT:  Hey, thank you for your request Anon ! I had to confess that it was kind of a hard one for me because well...trust issu hit close from home and I just start to write that angst even if it was not my specialty, but I really like the result and I hope you will too !

Trust Issues

OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji

Sanji / OPLA Masterlist and Coming Soon

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.

—

Love wasn’t your cup of tea. Sure, the idea of a partner supporting and adoring you like you deserve was cute. But, in your opinion, you have already done enough. After all, your last relationship has resulted as becoming a pirate and being abandoned by your lover to save his ass. And, If the humiliation hadn’t been enough, not long after your escape for the marines, you had seen him parading with his new lady wrapped around his arm. Like if you hadn’t existed at all.

So, nobody could blame you if you had some trust issues and an aversion for ladie’s man.

It’s why you knew the minute you saw his smile what Vinsmoke Sanji was : A pretty flirt. 

If it was only you, you had refused his presence on the ship, but, like Luffy had said, the Going Merry needed a cook and the man was a hell of a fighter. As the morning came, you couldn’t also deny the fact that he looked incredibly good in his suit, his bag on his shoulder, ready to come aboard. Smiling at the instant he spotted you. 

“ Hello Madam, I'm glad we met again. Can I say that you seem even more beautiful in this sunlight” He offered, from the dock, as you were sitting on the main deck rail adjusting a rope. 

“ You may, but it doesn't mean I will accept the compliment. Luffy is on the upper deck if you search him” You coldly replied, trying to shut down your traitor heart. You will not fall for another pretty face, never. 

“ I didn’t expect much Madam, thank you for the information “ Sanji replied, his mood in nothing affected by your coldness. Sure, he had hoped for a warmer welcome, but after serving you the night before and found himself unable to turn his gaze away from your beauty. He was satisfied with just being part of the same crew as you, the rest would come later he had assumed. 

It took, in fact, way longer than he first thought. For the entire few weeks he had been on board, you hadn’t looked or talked to him except to thank him for the food or urgent matters. 

Many times, the crew had tried to talk to you, asking you to be more nice with Sanji. But, even if you could feel his charm often softened your shield, your stubbornness was even stronger. 

It wasn’t easy for Sanji either. He knew you clearly disliked him without knowing why. When, on his part, the more he was admiring you, watching you laugh with the others, hearing your brilliant plan, watching you gracefully climb the cordage and being as stubborn as him. Make him love you even more. Everyday, he was trying to charm you, offering you compliments, taking an interest in what you were doing or simply making you the best food he could. But, nothing worked, you answered him quickly and as coldly as always.  

It'll take another two months and a storm before Sanji has enough. 

The rain was falling for hours,helped by a wind so strong that you had to close one of the sails to avoid drifting away. Each two hours or so, the members of the crew were making a rotation, trying as much as possible to not fatigue themself too much and end up falling into the water. 

You were the only one still standing, drenched by the cold rain, your muscles sore by the force necessary to keep the helm stable. Multiple times Nami and Usopp had tried to push you to take a rest or at least eat something warm, but each time you refused resolutely, you would pass that storm and rest after. 

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Sanji was finishing his soup, preparing three bowls for the crew member who will come downstairs to take their rest. As he prepared himself for going upstairs, doing his part, the blond chef saw Nami and Usopp going down the stairs, alone. You aren’t with them, again. 

“ Where Y/N ” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“ She refuses to budge of the helm. we tried to talk to her but it’s like talking to a rock” Nami replied, wrapping herself in a big towel.

“ I’ll come back, I will bring her here “ Sanji only replied, his happy mood now sour. It wasn’t rare in the time who’s he was running the restaurant with Zeff that he lost his temper. He had lost it already a time or two during battle, but against another member of the crew,it was a first. 

Making his way to the helm, he looked at you, already knowing it will not be easy. But, to be sure you’re in security, he was ready to fight you if he had to. 

“ Y/N, your time has long passed, I will replace you. I prepared a dry towel and warm soup in the kitchen. Go take some rest “ He first tried. 

“ I’m not tired or hungry “ You simply replied with your gaze focused on the horizon. 

“ Then I’m afraid I have to excuse myself Darling “ Profiting from an adjustment of your position, he then proceeds to lift you on his shoulder, easily dodging all your attacks, as he was getting you down in the ship to dry both of you. 

“ How dare you ! “ You scream, shaking of rage and cold. As he sits you on one of the kitchen stools and throws a dry towel at you. “ I was perfectly fine !”

“ You were on a trip to catch death ! “Sanji replied sharply, his gaze dark and his wet form in a stiff posture with anger “ I don’t know what I exactly did to make you dislike me like that, but I can care for you if you do some stupid things like that ! “

“ Then just don’t care about me and go flirt somewhere else !!” You angrily answered.

Taken aback, Sanji tilted his head, frowning his eyebrow, clearly confused. 

“ Wait…what…You dislike me…because I flirted with you ?“ He slowly asked, trying to understand your point. 

“ I just don’t understand why you haven't given up yet ! I had already done with the damn flirty kind, go charm your other ladies and leave me alone ! “ 

" My other…” Sanji starts disbelief. “ I don’t give up because I care for you…stubborn woman! " Sanji tried to say. Never had he thought that it was his manner that you hated so much. " But if my affection isn't required, fine, eat and rest, that's all I ask " He sighs ,disappearing upstairs. 

A long and heavy silence fell in the kitchen after he left, leaving you with a curiously heavy heart and some concerned  gaze of Nami and Usopp eating their soup. After a while, you sigh, defeated and take yourself a bowl. As always, the dish was perfectly balanced and delicious.

" You know y/n...I know your story, I understand, I do.  But…Sanji didn't flirt with any woman aside from you for months…I think he genuinely likes you, " Nami softly spoke. "Of course I'm not you and you have all the right to act like you do, but it’s not Sanji's fault. He’s not him… and I think the day he will stop caring for you, you will realize it’s will be maybe too late”.

“ Maybe “ You admit, finishing your food before leave it into the sink and heading to the door” I will sleep a little, wake me up when it will be our turn again please “ 

But she never woke you up and when you opened your eyes, the sun was shining again on another day. 

Sanji wasn’t the kind of man who'd give up easily, neither on his dream nor on the people he loved. But, even with his flirty tendency, respecting women and their wishes was a priority. It’s why, even if it cost him and that your word had wounded him, on that sunny day, he started to restrict at the minimum his attention to you. 

And you noticed it immediately. His gaze on you, usually full of affection, was now more distant, he didn’t ask you if you had slept well, nor if you would like something in particular for breakfast, he simply put an omelet in front of you, smiled politely and returned to his occupation. Yes, for Sanji it was odd, but, as a ladie’s man you give him a week before going back to his old habit. 

Luckily for you, life decided to give both of you a hand.

Your estimation could never be more wrong. After two weeks of polite but cold Sanji, you were almost wishing you never had that fight. Your traitor heart was missed his radiant smile toward you, his compliments for every little detail of your person or the way he  tried to know every one of your favorite things. But you had broken it and you were now unsure how to repair it. Excuse could probably do the charm, but your stubbornness was always blocking you, estimating that protecting your heart wasn't shameful. 

The Going Merry was anchored alongside an island, doing his needed resupply. As the last barrel had been brought on board, you followed the idea of Zoro and decided to join your companions for a drink at the little bar on the beach.

But, as you put your foot in the small place, you froze, your mind resuming to a static white noise. Your ex, already another lady at his arm, was installed with his crew at the largest table of the little tavern.  

“ Hey Y/N come here, that table is free ! “ Luffy exclaimed, not noticing your stiffness.

“ Y/N is that you ! Damn girl, I haven't seen you since you were surrounded by Marines ! I own you for this one, how did you escape ?! “ The despicable man shouted, clearly more happy to see you, than you were to see him. “ Darla, that girl was... my most loyal crew member. “He explained to the girl at his side “Look at you, have you always been that pretty ? “ 

The compliment was the last straw that snapped you out of your shock. How could he talk to you so casually after all you had endured because of him. Doesn’t he have an ounce of regret or shame ?!

“ I escaped on my own after you had cowardly abandoned me ! “ You replied, as Sanji placed himself behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder in support.

“ Y/N, that man clearly doesn’t deserve your time, come, the drink will arrive soon” He tried, giving a hard look at the pathetique Captain who was now coming a you, his hand scratching his hair, gauging if Sanji was a menace for his future plan with you or not. 

“ Not deserving of his time, I had already two years of her time mate, go sip your beer and let us discuss. Y/N and I have many things to talk about. I haven’t abandoned her, I knew she could escape, she’s a smart cat. Aren't you Sweet pea” 

“ I have nothing to say to you, thank you Sanji but I’m not in the mood. Being in the same room as him would suck all the joy I have. I will be on the ship. “ You simply replied, making your exit before tears ran down your cheeks. 

Sat on the upper deck, watching the night sky, the fresh wind drying your last tears, you saw Sanji came back onboard. Without a word, he simply sat beside you and offered you the bottle he was keeping in his hand.

“ Zoro sent his regards and I’m here to tell you that I’m sorry. I had tried to respect your wish, but I couldn’t stop myself tonight. I can’t not care for you and that man was...he shouldn’t ever treat a lady as you like that. Maybe now he had learn “

“ Sanji, what did you do? “ You asked, strangely touched that he had actually take your defense even after you had left. 

“ I kicked his pathetic and disgraceful ass. I couldn’t tolerate the way he was looking at you, talking to you...But I understand now how my behavior led you to dislike me when I arrived, But I assure you that…” 

“ I know, “ You said your heart, still fragile, beating faster.” You aren’t him and I should have waited to know you. I was scared, I didn’t want to like you because I was afraid to repeat the same story. But even if I tried, I realize when you had stop to caring for me that I miss it, I missed you…a lot“ 

Suddenly unusually shy, his cheeks a slightly shade of faded pink in the dark, Sanji avoided your gaze, a joyful smile spreading on his lips.

“ I suggest that we start over. We can't forget all those months but we can restart our relationship.I can’t wait to truly know you Y/N” He tell, finally planting in gaze in yours, that lost spackles in his eyes, the one you though forever vanish, back even brighter that ever. 

“ I can’t wait too, Sanji “ You softly smile. 

___

Your first kiss with Sanji happened a little shorter than a month later. At exactly the same spot. 

Since that night, you have made a habit of watching the sky together, sharing stories, passions and thoughts. Even if the blond cook, not without surprise, seems to find the constellation less appealing than your sweet view at his side. But, you slowly adapted yourself to his flirting and even often replied, to his joy. 

It was in one of those moments, as you turned your head to point to him a group of stars that Sanji captured your lips, answering your heart's deepest desire from months and even probably since the tall man had put a foot on the deck. 

Somewhere on the lower level of the ship, you hear the playful screams and wolf whistles of your friends. But, as he captured your lips for another kiss you couldn't care less. You had an amazing group of friends, the sea was peaceful and with the help of Sanji, your heart finally started to heal.  

[mysteriousbeetle]

People act like Tim and Cass's relationship is all smooth sailing which is not true. And I think acting like it is does a disservice to their relationship.

During No Man's Land while Tim cares about her general survival, he is shown to dislike her and feel reluctant about working with her (Robin (1993) #73). While this reluctance continues after No Man's Land, it's resolved by the end of Batgirl (2000) #18.

They are both very different people and in order to find an understanding they have to put in the effort. Even then, that doesn't mean they're always on the same page.

In Robin/Batgirl: Fresh Blood, while they are able to work well together, they are shown to have differing ideals and have some disagreements over them.

They're siblings and again very different people so of course they're capable of arguing. And I think it's also important to acknowledge that it took time and effort to form the relationship they have. I'm not saying that they don't get along but to ignore their conflicts really takes away from their complexity and makes their relationship seem a lot less interesting.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Algorithmic feeds are a twiddler’s playground

Next TUESDAY (May 14), I'm on a livecast about AI AND ENSHITTIFICATION with TIM O'REILLY; on WEDNESDAY (May 15), I'm in NORTH HOLLYWOOD with HARRY SHEARER for a screening of STEPHANIE KELTON'S FINDING THE MONEY; FRIDAY (May 17), I'm at the INTERNET ARCHIVE in SAN FRANCISCO to keynote the 10th anniversary of the AUTHORS ALLIANCE.

Like Oscar Wilde, "I can resist anything except temptation," and my slow and halting journey to adulthood is really just me grappling with this fact, getting temptation out of my way before I can yield to it.

Behavioral economists have a name for the steps we take to guard against temptation: a "Ulysses pact." That's when you take some possibility off the table during a moment of strength in recognition of some coming moment of weakness:

https://archive.org/details/decentralizedwebsummit2016-corydoctorow

Famously, Ulysses did this before he sailed into the Sea of Sirens. Rather than stopping his ears with wax to prevent his hearing the sirens' song, which would lure him to his drowning, Ulysses has his sailors tie him to the mast, leaving his ears unplugged. Ulysses became the first person to hear the sirens' song and live to tell the tale.

Ulysses was strong enough to know that he would someday be weak. He expressed his strength by guarding against his weakness. Our modern lives are filled with less epic versions of the Ulysses pact: the day you go on a diet, it's a good idea to throw away all your Oreos. That way, when your blood sugar sings its siren song at 2AM, it will be drowned out by the rest of your body's unwillingness to get dressed, find your keys and drive half an hour to the all-night grocery store.

Note that this Ulysses pact isn't perfect. You might drive to the grocery store. It's rare that a Ulysses pact is unbreakable – we bind ourselves to the mast, but we don't chain ourselves to it and slap on a pair of handcuffs for good measure.

People who run institutions can – and should – create Ulysses pacts, too. A company that holds the kind of sensitive data that might be subjected to "sneak-and-peek" warrants by cops or spies can set up a "warrant canary":

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Warrant_canary

This isn't perfect. A company that stops publishing regular transparency reports might have been compromised by the NSA, but it's also possible that they've had a change in management and the new boss just doesn't give a shit about his users' privacy:

https://www.fastcompany.com/90853794/twitters-transparency-reporting-has-tanked-under-elon-musk

Likewise, a company making software it wants users to trust can release that code under an irrevocable free/open software license, thus guaranteeing that each release under that license will be free and open forever. This is good, but not perfect: the new boss can take that free/open code down a proprietary fork and try to orphan the free version:

https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=39772562

A company can structure itself as a public benefit corporation and make a binding promise to elevate its stakeholders' interests over its shareholders' – but the CEO can still take a secret $100m bribe from cryptocurrency creeps and try to lure those stakeholders into a shitcoin Ponzi scheme:

https://fortune.com/crypto/2024/03/11/kickstarter-blockchain-a16z-crypto-secret-investment-chris-dixon/

A key resource can be entrusted to a nonprofit with a board of directors who are charged with stewarding it for the benefit of a broad community, but when a private equity fund dangles billions before that board, they can talk themselves into a belief that selling out is the right thing to do:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/12/how-we-saved-org-2020-review

Ulysses pacts aren't perfect, but they are very important. At the very least, creating a Ulysses pact starts with acknowledging that you are fallible. That you can be tempted, and rationalize your way into taking bad action, even when you know better. Becoming an adult is a process of learning that your strength comes from seeing your weaknesses and protecting yourself and the people who trust you from them.

Which brings me to enshittification. Enshittification is the process by which platforms betray their users and their customers by siphoning value away from each until the platform is a pile of shit:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Enshittification

Enshittification is a spectrum that can be applied to many companies' decay, but in its purest form, enshittification requires:

a) A platform: a two-sided market with business customers and end users who can be played off against each other; b) A digital back-end: a market that can be easily, rapidly and undetectably manipulated by its owners, who can alter search-rankings, prices and costs on a per-user, per-query basis; and c) A lack of constraint: the platform's owners must not fear a consequence for this cheating, be it from competitors, regulators, workforce resignations or rival technologists who use mods, alternative clients, blockers or other "adversarial interoperability" tools to disenshittify your product and sever your relationship with your users.

he founders of tech platforms don't generally set out to enshittify them. Rather, they are constantly seeking some equilibrium between delivering value to their shareholders and turning value over to end users, business customers, and their own workers. Founders are consummate rationalizers; like parenting, founding a company requires continuous, low-grade self-deception about the amount of work involved and the chances of success. A founder, confronted with the likelihood of failure, is absolutely capable of talking themselves into believing that nearly any compromise is superior to shuttering the business: "I'm one of the good guys, so the most important thing is for me to live to fight another day. Thus I can do any number of immoral things to my users, business customers or workers, because I can make it up to them when we survive this crisis. It's for their own good, even if they don't know it. Indeed, I'm doubly moral here, because I'm volunteering to look like the bad guy, just so I can save this business, which will make the world over for the better":

https://locusmag.com/2024/05/cory-doctorow-no-one-is-the-enshittifier-of-their-own-story/

(En)shit(tification) flows downhill, so tech workers grapple with their own version of this dilemma. Faced with constant pressure to increase the value flowing from their division to the company, they have to balance different, conflicting tactics, like "increasing the number of users or business customers, possibly by shifting value from the company to these stakeholders in the hopes of making it up in volume"; or "locking in my existing stakeholders and squeezing them harder, safe in the knowledge that they can't easily leave the service provided the abuse is subtle enough." The bigger a company gets, the harder it is for it to grow, so the biggest companies realize their gains by locking in and squeezing their users, not by improving their service::

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/

That's where "twiddling" comes in. Digital platforms are extremely flexible, which comes with the territory: computers are the most flexible tools we have. This means that companies can automate high-speed, deceptive changes to the "business logic" of their platforms – what end users pay, how much of that goes to business customers, and how offers are presented to both:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/twiddler/

This kind of fraud isn't particularly sophisticated, but it doesn't have to be – it just has to be fast. In any shell-game, the quickness of the hand deceives the eye:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/26/glitchbread/#electronic-shelf-tags

Under normal circumstances, this twiddling would be constrained by counterforces in society. Changing the business rules like this is fraud, so you'd hope that a regulator would step in and extinguish the conduct, fining the company that engaged in it so hard that they saw a net loss from the conduct. But when a sector gets very concentrated, its mega-firms capture their regulators, becoming "too big to jail":

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/05/regulatory-capture/

Thus the tendency among the giant tech companies to practice the one lesson of the Darth Vader MBA: dismissing your stakeholders' outrage by saying, "I am altering the deal. Pray I don't alter it any further":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/26/hit-with-a-brick/#graceful-failure

Where regulators fail, technology can step in. The flexibility of digital platforms cuts both ways: when the company enshittifies its products, you can disenshittify it with your own countertwiddling: third-party ink-cartridges, alternative app stores and clients, scrapers, browser automation and other forms of high-tech guerrilla warfare:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

But tech giants' regulatory capture have allowed them to expand "IP rights" to prevent this self-help. By carefully layering overlapping IP rights around their products, they can criminalize the technology that lets you wrestle back the value they've claimed for themselves, creating a new offense of "felony contempt of business model":

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

A world where users must defer to platforms' moment-to-moment decisions about how the service operates, without the protection of rival technology or regulatory oversight is a world where companies face a powerful temptation to enshittify.

That's why we've seen so much enshittification in platforms that algorithmically rank their feeds, from Google and Amazon search to Facebook and Twitter feeds. A search engine is always going to be making a judgment call about what the best result for your search should be. If a search engine is generally good at predicting which results will please you best, you'll return to it, automatically clicking the first result ("I'm feeling lucky").

This means that if a search engine slips in the odd paid result at the top of the results, they can exploit your trusting habits to shift value from you to their investors. The congifurability of a digital service means that they can sprinkle these frauds into their services on a random schedule, making them hard to detect and easy to dismiss as lapses. Gradually, this acquires its own momentum, and the platform becomes addicted to lowering its own quality to raise its profits, and you get modern Google, which cynically lowered search quality to increase search volume:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/24/naming-names/#prabhakar-raghavan

And you get Amazon, which makes $38 billion every year, accepting bribes to replace its best search results with paid results for products that cost more and are of lower quality:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/06/attention-rents/#consumer-welfare-queens

Social media's enshittification followed a different path. In the beginning, social media presented a deterministic feed: after you told the platform who you wanted to follow, the platform simply gathered up the posts those users made and presented them to you, in reverse-chronological order.

This presented few opportunities for enshittification, but it wasn't perfect. For users who were well-established on a platform, a reverse-chrono feed was an ungovernable torrent, where high-frequency trivialities drowned out the important posts from people whose missives were buried ten screens down in the updates since your last login.

For new users who didn't yet follow many people, this presented the opposite problem: an empty feed, and the sense that you were all alone while everyone else was having a rollicking conversation down the hall, in a room you could never find.

The answer was the algorithmic feed: a feed of recommendations drawn from both the accounts you followed and strangers alike. Theoretically, this could solve both problems, by surfacing the most important materials from your friends while keeping you abreast of the most important and interesting activity beyond your filter bubble. For many of us, this promise was realized, and algorithmic feeds became a source of novelty and relevance.

But these feeds are a profoundly tempting enshittification target. The critique of these algorithms has largely focused on "addictiveness" and the idea that platforms would twiddle the knobs to increase the relevance of material in your feed to "hack your engagement":

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2018/mar/04/has-dopamine-got-us-hooked-on-tech-facebook-apps-addiction

Less noticed – and more important – was how platforms did the opposite: twiddling the knobs to remove things from your feed that you'd asked to see or that the algorithm predicted you'd enjoy, to make room for "boosted" content and advertisements:

https://www.reddit.com/r/Instagram/comments/z9j7uy/what_happened_to_instagram_only_ads_and_accounts/

Users were helpless before this kind of twiddling. On the one hand, they were locked into the platform – not because their dopamine had been hacked by evil tech-bro wizards – but because they loved the friends they had there more than they hated the way the service was run:

https://locusmag.com/2023/01/commentary-cory-doctorow-social-quitting/

On the other hand, the platforms had such an iron grip on their technology, and had deployed IP so cleverly, that any countertwiddling technology was instantaneously incinerated by legal death-rays:

https://techcrunch.com/2022/10/10/google-removes-the-og-app-from-the-play-store-as-founders-think-about-next-steps/

Newer social media platforms, notably Tiktok, dispensed entirely with deterministic feeds, defaulting every user into a feed that consisted entirely of algorithmic picks; the people you follow on these platforms are treated as mere suggestions by their algorithms. This is a perfect breeding-ground for enshittification: different parts of the business can twiddle the knobs to override the algorithm for their own parochial purposes, shifting the quality:shit ratio by unnoticeable increments, temporarily toggling the quality knob when your engagement drops off:

https://www.forbes.com/sites/emilybaker-white/2023/01/20/tiktoks-secret-heating-button-can-make-anyone-go-viral/

All social platforms want to be Tiktok: nominally, that's because Tiktok's algorithmic feed is so good at hooking new users and keeping established users hooked. But tech bosses also understand that a purely algorithmic feed is the kind of black box that can be plausibly and subtly enshittified without sparking user revolts:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

Back in 2004, when Mark Zuckerberg was coming to grips with Facebook's success, he boasted to a friend that he was sitting on a trove of emails, pictures and Social Security numbers for his fellow Harvard students, offering this up for his friend's idle snooping. The friend, surprised, asked "What? How'd you manage that one?"

Infamously, Zuck replied, "People just submitted it. I don't know why. They 'trust me.' Dumb fucks."

https://www.esquire.com/uk/latest-news/a19490586/mark-zuckerberg-called-people-who-handed-over-their-data-dumb-f/

This was a remarkable (and uncharacteristic) self-aware moment from the then-nineteen-year-old Zuck. Of course Zuck couldn't be trusted with that data. Whatever Jiminy Cricket voice told him to safeguard that trust was drowned out by his need to boast to pals, or participate in the creepy nonconsensual rating of the fuckability of their female classmates. Over and over again, Zuckerberg would promise to use his power wisely, then break that promise as soon as he could do so without consequence:

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3247362

Zuckerberg is a cautionary tale. Aware from the earliest moments that he was amassing power that he couldn't be trusted with, he nevertheless operated with only the weakest of Ulysses pacts, like a nonbinding promise never to spy on his users:

https://web.archive.org/web/20050107221705/http://www.thefacebook.com/policy.php

But the platforms have learned the wrong lesson from Zuckerberg. Rather than treating Facebook's enshittification as a cautionary tale, they've turned it into a roadmap. The Darth Vader MBA rules high-tech boardrooms.

Algorithmic feeds and other forms of "paternalistic" content presentation are necessary and even desirable in an information-rich environment. In many instances, decisions about what you see must be largely controlled by a third party whom you trust. The audience in a comedy club doesn't get to insist on knowing the punchline before the joke is told, just as RPG players don't get to order the Dungeon Master to present their preferred challenges during a campaign.

But this power is balanced against the ease of the players replacing the Dungeon Master or the audience walking out on the comic. When you've got more than a hundred dollars sunk into a video game and an online-only friend-group you raid with, the games company can do a lot of enshittification without losing your business, and they know it:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/5/10/24153809/ea-in-game-ads-redux

Even if they sometimes overreach and have to retreat:

https://www.eurogamer.net/sony-overturns-helldivers-2-psn-requirement-following-backlash

A tech company that seeks your trust for an algorithmic feed needs Ulysses pacts, or it will inevitably yield to the temptation to enshittify. From strongest to weakest, these are:

Not showing you an algorithmic feed at all;

https://joinmastodon.org/

"Composable moderation" that lets multiple parties provide feeds:

https://bsky.social/about/blog/4-13-2023-moderation

Offering an algorithmic "For You" feed alongside of a reverse-chrono "Friends" feed, defaulting to friends;

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/10/e2e/#the-censors-pen

As above, but defaulting to "For You"

Maturity lies in being strong enough to know your weaknesses. Never trust someone who tells you that they will never yield to temptation! Instead, seek out people – and service providers – with the maturity and honesty to know how tempting temptation is, and who act before temptation strikes to make it easier to resist.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/11/for-you/#the-algorithm-tm

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

--

djhughman https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Modular_synthesizer_-_%22Control_Voltage%22_electronic_music_shop_in_Portland_OR_-_School_Photos_PCC_%282015-05-23_12.43.01_by_djhughman%29.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[applescorner]

rare love (jason todd × y/n) - angst one shot !-

｡𖦹°‧⭑.ᐟ

summary : after your bf jayson comes back from the dead, he's not quite the same jay you feel in love with, and you don't know what to do anymore ?

warning : talk of death, mental health, not really any heavy topics or issues, just kinda sad overall :(

｡𖦹°‧⭑.ᐟ

he had eyes that could drown any naive sailor who thought they were brave enough to whether the furious storms of the sea. as wide and as endless as my love was for him, i was ship wrecked the moment he called me babydoll.

he rarely ever said my name, maybe when he got mad or disappointed, but he doesn't say it now regardless of his feelings, it's baby doll this, and baby doll that, but.... my name has value. it means something. I mean something

perhaps it did, too, once to the man i loved beyond every evil thing that could kill hope in this cruel city. he was my anchor, the wind in my sails.

the eyes i yearn to find love and life once again in is gone and that is far more terrifying than actually not having him. somedays he's here not present, other days....

"jay" i softly whisper tapping his shoulder. broken from his trance, impossibly fast he snatches my wrist, his blue eyes bore into my fearful gaze, searching for something

malice, deciet, ulterior motive to hurt him ?

whatever it is he doesn't find it. instead of apologizing, he kisses my inner wrist, with all of his weight and muscle ontop of me he leans back now and sighs.

I do the best I can to comfort him and just begin to run my hands through his soft raven black hair. even touching his hairs a rare treat.

ever since's he's come back everyone and everything around us, around him, he observes, analyzes, and stews over.

hot showers we used to use as an excuse for more time together is another wall for me to break through.

I used to be able to stand behind and wash his muscles, trace the freckles down his face and back , kiss him while keeping eye contact. Whisper to him how beautiful the stars on his body were. nothing gets to stand behind him, back up against the wall, he washes me firmly with no care insteading of leaving hickies or handprint like how we used to. he just leaves scratches from how harshly he scrubs at my skin.

cautiously wrapping his hair around my fingers, I hum to myself. After a moment I test the waters.

"j"

resting his nose in the crook of my neck, he sniffs the area where i put lotion, and his breath slows almost to a full stop. after my shower, i grabbed any bottle in front of me. absentmindedly, i put on his favorite. he liked things that reminded him of me. vanilla, warm sweaters, rainy days, the movie footloose.

staying over at bruce's sometimes on holiday breaks i would round him and the boys up to the theather room, put on footloose, and teach them the cherogrophy. eventually they got the hang of it. jay, bruce, tim and i had no shame, we would place two long coffee tables together, put on socks we could glide in and dance like no tomorrow.

"yeah doll"

" say my name." I nudge him playfully

under his messy hair he tips his head up, through it I can see in his eyes there's a hint of humor "B A B Y D O L L ...babydoll"

I stare at him as intensely as I can, but under his 'equally' intense one, I cave, mustering a small smile " what's my n a m e... mr. j a y s o n t o d d "

I wait with baited breathe, studying every inch of his face for a giveaway of something. annyonce, ire, anger even ?. i've been begging, pleading and pushing him in just about every way known to man for a semblance of my name.

an uneasy air passes by

squaring his shoulders, and grabbing my chin softly in his hands, he pulls me down to him ; inches away from his lips.

"y/n. y/n m/n l/n "

a thousands feelings shoot off in my brain, my blood feels hot and the ceilings feels heavy but he was all I could see all I could focus on.

the truth may not be pretty, it may not be laid out perfectly for you to easily digest but when it's presented in front of you : you have two choices you can either dig in and hope for the best, or you can discard it and order something different. I chose the former.

"do you have any idea what it's been like to chase after the person you love's affection. I don't ask for you to be perfect, I don't expect for you to be okay all the time. I just want for you to say my name. Not just for my own mental sake. For yours as well, my love. I need to know that you know that there is just more than you here present in this relationship. In your life. I exist to and if you won't remember, then I don't know how to help you nor us"

"the only thing that kept me going was the thought that if you were still alive then we both were still alive y/n. It's not an apology. So many people have given me them, I don't know where to put their empathy and compassion. It's maddening. I love you I've never wanted to suffocate you. I just figure that instead of apologizing for all my mistakes I would treat you better show you that I'm trying ".

I cup his face bringing him closer, our lips brush "I see you, I appreciate. I'm not going anywhere. Apologies are a good things to have. Like love and grace they cover lots of things"

"Even sin ? "

"Even death, love brought you back did it not".

"No," he states firmly "your once in a lifetime, rare, wonderful, crazy, grounding love brought me back.

wrapping his tree branch arms around my waist he pulls me in for an earth-shattering kiss.

Author's Note : If you liked it please consider liking & following for more (kinda in a jason todd phase right now ;*. Let me know in the comments any feedback or improvement I can work for the next peice.

[antebunny]

a cuckoo in the nest update

a plan, a snippet, and a question

plan is of course subject to change

no idea how long it will be

anyways, here's the snippet:

---

A seed of suspicion sprouts in the stake park. Someone whose name may or may not rhyme with Grick Dayson strong-arms Bruce into taking his family to the skate park nearest to their home in Bristol. Necessarily, the fae accompanies them. Bruce expected it to be on its best human-like behavior in public, but even he, paranoid bastard that he is, underestimates the cunning of the creature. Gone is the lost little boy act; in is the rascal preteen boy who hollers at his older brothers from the sidelines to do a kickflip.

Within minutes, the fae has acquired a skateboard. After a couple of wobbly attempts at using it, the fae progresses to attempting to drop in. If the fae were a human child, Bruce would strongly advise it to practice more before making an attempt. If the child were his kid, Bruce would insist on wearing kneepads and the like before stepping foot on another skateboard. 

As it is, Bruce is not even sure that the fae can be hurt in the same way as humans. Through his research and through the fae’s demonstration, Bruce has learned a little about how fae operate; namely, that they separate body from being. A fae can be hurt through incorporeal, intangible means that mean nothing to humans, such as using a “true name” and striking deals. Humans can break bargains, lie, and call each other names without anything resembling consequences. But is the reverse also true? Are fae immune to bullets and knives and all the weapons humanity has to offer? Bruce is quite certain that Tim–the particular fae forced upon him–has no idea.

“TIM!”

Speak of the devil. Bruce’s gaze instantly snaps to the bottom of the half-pipe. His eyes land on Tim’s skateboard, which sails away from him (it). The fae stays on its hands and knees as Jason and Dick pound over dirty concrete, flying over the railings and people to reach him first. Both hover as Tim pulls himself to his feet. 

“You okay?” Dick squats next to Tim. “Those knees look pretty banged up.”

But Tim’s attention isn’t on his skinned knees quickly welling with beads of blood or the boys by his side. His gaze stays trained on the runaway skateboard. “I used to be able to float,” he cries, and bursts into tears.

Jason pats him on the back. “Alright, calm down, Timmy’s Delivery Service. We’ll getcha back in the air in no time.”

“I don’t want to!” Tim shoves his hand away, perfectly emulating the preteen boy behavior it is pretending to be. “I’m not going to float, ever again. I’m gonna learn to skateboard.” And he marches all of two petulant steps away from Jason before he freezes and looks down at his knees. 

Like he’s surprised they hurt. 

Long after Dick cleans and patches up those cuts and bruises, Bruce’s eyes keep looking at Tim’s knees. The fae bled red just like any human and had not expected it. The fae wants to learn skateboarding and wants to leave behind the dreamlike ways of the fae. This fae–Tim–wants to be human. This fae has known nothing but the fae realm and the life of the Unseelie Court. An iron fist in a velvet glove, the rule of the Unseelie Queen. Perhaps, with time and exposure to Gotham, Tim now values the marvels of the human realm and wishes to join it? Is it possible they might turn against the Unseelie Queen?

How old is the fae?

[buds-and-baubles]

silly snippets from my wildstorm to dc transfer:

apollo: no, you shouldn't fly if you're still tired. *he stands behind but still at a respectable distance, hands held out with a grin* want the apollo express to help you out?

kon: *he grabs apollo's hands* sure why not, it would be interesting to compare how you fly to claAAAAAAAAAAAAAH *apollo took off flying mid-sentence on that word just to be funny*

midnighter: *stands in the alleyway, bo staff in his hands* oh, for fuck's sake.

tim: *stands on the other side of the alleyway, twirling his bo staff* midnighter, interesting seeing you here. nice weapon, by the way.

midnighter: *he sighs, moving his weapon to one hand* what're you doing here, kid? i'm working.

tim: i'm working too. *gestures to his costume* need any assistance? we can work out some terms for a teamup but i'm sure we can come to an understanding.

midnighter: *he rubs a hand over his face* fine, but only because i know you'll pester me until i agree. you got a paper or something for these terms?

tim: *smiles wide at the 'pestering' comment, nodding his head*

nathaniel adam: *he's walking into the justice league conference room for a meeting*

the rest of the justice league: *discussing the anomaly (the wildstorm transfer), a blurry picture of apollo up on a projector*

nathaniel adam: *flashbacks to armageddon* don't trust any of them. don't trust any of them, especially THAT guy! *points at screen*

the picture: *apollo is kneeling to hold out a cat he rescued from a tree to a teary-eyed kid, halo glowing bright as he smiles*

shen: *stretching out her wings as she sits perched on a rock by the ocean* feel like there's something to be said about a bird and a fish spending time together.

garth: *he's next to her with his legs in the water, kicking his legs to splash* dogs and cats become friends too. if we bind ourselves by what others tell us, we'll never sail away. or so the analogy goes.

shen: huh. *she smiles a little mischeviously, dipping the tips of her wings in the waves to splash him a bit* i'd prefer the analogy 'fly away' personally.

garth: *he's actually happy about being splashed since it moisturizes him* so no pelican analogies then?

jack hawksmoor and city boy: *spider-man pointing meme*

rose tattoo and death of the endless: *spider-man pointing meme*

jenny quantum: you know, you could use your hair as a weapon.

kori: oh, how so? *a mix of intrigue and concern on what she's going to hear*

jenny quantum: like a beautiful flaming jump rope. you don't even have to kill anyone to use it like that.

kori: an excellent reccomendation for future battles to be used in a pinch. thank you, jennifer, i'll be sure to pass the idea along to the titans. *she holds her arms out* do you still want to fly with me?

jenny quantum: absolutely! *jumps into her arms*

jenny quantum and kori: *cue to them flying with jenny in kori's arms, both of them going 'wheeee!'*

dream of the endless: *opens a door, stepping into the garden of ancestral memories* . . . this.. is new...

angie, babs, and natasha irons: *dangerously powerful teamup which the world is forever changed for the betterment of STEM*

midnighter: *takes a step*

cass: *takes a step at the same time*

midnighter: son of a–

cass: *he can't see but she's sticking her tongue out* womp womp.

apollo: *opens the door to his apartment to see the core four standing there* ..i take it this has to do with something nobody else knows about that has happened that you don't want them to know happened?

bart: for legal reasons, no comment.

cassie: that was a comment, bart.

kon: *bashfully scraping one of his boots on the ground* yes.

apollo: *takes a deep breath as he stands aside so they can come in* let's see what we're dealing with.

all four: thank you. *walk inside*

tim: oh hey, m got the new curtains he was mumbling about!

the authority: *murderizes henry bendix again*

jay nakamura: *shocked blinking meme*

the watchtower: *exists*

the carrier: *loud sentient shift ship sounds of upset informal protests*

superman: *he's hovering midair, giving a small wave* mister majestic, good to see you!

mister majestic: *he offers his own wave* i wish it was under better circumstances.

superman: that's why i am here. *he offers an apologetic smile* i'm sorry for what happened to your universe and earth. you did the best you could under those circumstances.

mister majestic: thank you. i know we did, but it doesn't make it entirely easier... on the bright side, we now don't have to worry about earth's god returning to kill us all.

superman: *baffled silence*

superman: come again?

grifter and red hood: *in a metaphorical stare down*

grifter: *twirls his two guns* full offense, you make me look healthy.

red hood: *grips his own two guns tighter* shut the fuck up.

grifter: not even a therapist could fix that. they should dip you again like an easter egg in green dye.

red hood: i'm not going to fall for this attempt to make us fight.

grifter: congratulations, you finally learned limits!

gen13: *staring at teen titans/young justice and titans with wonder in their eyes* we're just like them! *a building explodes behind them*

nightwing and huntress: *whisper bickering about the case they have to work on together because babs told them to*

midnighter: *lands on the ground with his night (escrima) sticks out*

nightwing: *turns around, frowning* the midnighter.

midnighter: nightwing and i'm guessing huntress. with the way you two were whispering, you'd be the worst spies ever.

nightwing: i'd ask you to kill me if i was ever a spy.

huntress: i'd rather throw myself into gotham river than be a spy. even worse if i had to lead them.

apollo, angie and shen: *air support/cav rescuing people after fucking up the people they were fighting*

kon: as thanks for lookin' out for me, i wanted to give you these. *hands him some circular sunglasses with yellow lenses, and a leather jacket that's got his chest symbol on the back of it*

apollo: *he carefully takes both items, putting them on* you really didn't have to, kon-el, but thank you. *he pulls his hair out from the collar of the jacket, posing* do i look, as you say.. funky fresh?

kon: *laughs, nodding his head* the funky and freshest. you wanna pose for a picture together?

apollo: *he nods* how about pictures and lunch in hawaii? i've been meaning to check there out.

kon: the s.s.superboy is at your service! *salutes as he flies off, apollo following right alongside him*

(connected to the previous one) the quantum apartment, san francisco;

midnighter: *gets a notification on his phone, opening it up to pictures of apollo posing in his new stuff with kon in hawaii* . . . *he grins like a shark* that's nice. i think i'm having a second coming out and it's gonna be mes–

angie and shen: *wearing matching knowing but deadpanned smirking expressions * we know.

jenny quantum: *stares at midnighter unblinking* dad two: electric boogaloo, you can't say that everytime dad sends you a selfie. also, gross.