#they just out there cutting the most important thing there is out
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Challenge Accepted!
Guess the fic/character that I’m basing this AITA on! Enjoy this nonsense under the cut, I had fun writing it 😂
AITA for bringing a suspected criminal against my state into my custody?
It’s important to note that the criminal (let’s just call him H) in question is already in prison, but his current jailor (I’ll call him K) is way too lenient with him and the other prisoners in his custody. I feel like I could get H to break and confess to his crimes if I could interrogate him using my methods. I highly suspect he is the man behind most, if not all, of the sabotage that happens near his current prison.
HOWEVER, there is this pesky thing called the ‘Geneva Convention’ that dictates that I simply cannot take H under my custody without the permission/supervision of K, who I KNOW won’t cooperate. To make matters worse, K’s boss (who I’ll call B), hates my guts and will take K’s side if I try to take H to my prison. I I even ask K to sign the paperwork, he’ll call B and then B will call my boss… who said I’m obsessed with H and since there’s no proof, I should just let this case go and move on.
But I just know that H is the criminal mastermind… if I can just get him alone and interrogate him, I can get him to confess and prove to anyone, K, B, my boss, etc., that I was right! K is going out of town for a week and leaving his subordinate in charge of his prison while he’s gone. I’m debating going to his prison while K is away and taking H into my custody anyways and by the time K returns, H will have confessed and K (and B) will finally know the truth!
AITA for kidnapping a prisoner, a criminal, even for the greater good of my country? Even if it is against some Convention?
Edit: STOP SAYING I HAVE A CRUSH ON H!!! He’s a criminal, and another MAN! It is illegal for two men to be in a relationship, not to mention it goes against everything I know!!!
if you're trying to get into the head of your story's antagonist, try writing an "Am I the Asshole" reddit post from their perspective, explaining their problems and their plans for solving them. Let the voice and logic come through.
#fictional AITA#antagonist POV#hogan's heroes#major hochstetter#peace in the moonlight#terror in the shadows#(to a lesser extent)
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So, here is the pitch:
AU where Siltsplash finds out they are pregnant around the same moon that Eklutna gives birth to the boys. (Rather than an AU where Owl doesn’t cheat because then we wouldn’t have Song, Dance, or Dash and that won’t do)
It makes the betrayal even worse because it’s even more pointless since they were going to give Owl an heir.
Anyway, meet Spindlekit
She will eventually go blind I imagine, but if Owlstar suggest she retire she tells him that he should retire for being old lmao.
Warrior name is open to suggestion
I love her and I’m so mad that she doesn’t exist now.
The fact that Song doesn’t have a little sister is a CRIME. This is what he was born to do.
Not only am I okay with it, I would love to see it!
You are so right, here's a flashback that was cut for time from Moon 28:
Erminepaw has had a crush on Songpaw since they were in the nursery together, he just never called attention to it. He honestly probably doesn't even register that it is a crush, he's doing that thing that kids do where they're like this is my best friend, of course I want to marry him that's how everyone feels about their best friend. Nothing out of the ordinary here! Just my best friend that I must be holding hands with at all times for best friend reasons!
Yes! This is Fox----, he has been causing problems since the literal day he was born. You've met both of his parents, but I would be a little bit surprised if you guessed them correctly. Parental drama is kinda part of his whole deal. He's one of the first 3rd generation cats born in Loudclan.
I have SO much advice, about the images, the recommended size is 1280 x 1920 pixels, that's always a little too short for my panels, so I try to aim for 1280 x 2000 - 3000. It still deteriorates them a little bit, but people can always click on them for better quality. Bigger text and variation in values also help for readability regardless of size. (value meaning how light or dark a color is. if you want something to stand out it's more important to change the value than it is to change the hue generally speaking.) As for grabbing attention, I would recommend making sure that the image you're trying to show is visible above the cut off for longer posts, posts with only text visible are a lot less likely to get interaction. That being said, the most important thing for the longevity of your blog is making sure that it's something you are doing for yourself. There's nothing wrong with liking when your posts get attention, but it's not likely to happen for a long while (I think moon 5 was the first time I got double digit likes which was three months after I started.) I appreciate all of the love that Loudclan gets now, but if I had started with that as the goal I never would have been able to reach the point of it happening. (I actually started posting Loudclan with the intention of proving to myself once and for all that posting art was not a viable endeavor for me, so... I'll consider that a successful failure!)
You CANNOT DO THIS to me anon- "the canadian city"- YOU MEAN JUNEAU? YOU MEAN THE CAPITAL OF ALASKA JUNEAU?!?! JUNEAU?!?! CANADIAN?!?! When I catch you anon- anon when I catch you-
Come here, anon. I just want to talk. I just want to have a word with you.
#loudclanasks#loudclan#clangen#loudclanfan#Moon 31 sketch is done but I've been working on a special little project before I start on the lines!#anon im not actually mad at you but I am completely befuddled as to how you came to decide that the capital of alaska belonged to canada#if anyone says they thought alaska was part of canada in the comments I will be committing crimes.#long post#cw blood#cw implied abuse#cw language
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be young, be dope, be proud
dynasty heir Aemond x heiress reader
a/n: randomly and carelessly drafted after a night out, so don't even ask me what this is. title obvi from Lana. also, I feel like the setting here is an acquired taste. so, enjoy? 💁🏼♀️🤍
themes/warnings: spoiled rich assholes, New York/modern references, language, clichés galore, Targs are like the Kennedys if that whole family was pure evil and Rep, SMUT, angst between brats who clearly want each other, also—you're kind of a hypocrite
main masterlist
The estate reeks with old money: marble columns, ancestral portraits, and a long dining table loaded with crystal and silver. Chandeliers try to warm the place, but it's all cold opulence. Outside, the gardens are cut and tamed to show that even nature has a price.
Your father always brings the family along to stately dinners up there in Westchester, with the usual crowd in attendance—the Targaryens, the Velaryons, the Lannisters—the whole lot.
Between them, they could probably purchase every building in Manhattan without creating a single dent in the bank.
Hell, maybe they already have. Generational wealth truly is the gift that keeps on giving.
You've tried to distance yourself from it. From people whose words drip poisoned honey and condescension. Being waited on like new order royalty.
But who are you to talk, when your father's lineage traces back to the fucking Mayflower? You and them are one and the same—filthy rich and borderline insane.
It is nearly impossible to maintain a steady sense of self, to have ample room for personal growth, when everything, every single thing, is handed to you on a silver platter. There is no tension there, no struggle, no need to exert any effort.
Failed your courses? Your father donates a building to the university. Aemond gets several DUIs? His great-uncle is a Supreme Court Justice. Aegon nearly burns his friend's house down while throwing a bacchanal-themed party? Let's just say that friend is grounded. For a week. Oh, the horror. Their family had many other estates, in many other places anyway.
When there are no real repercussions to your actions, you will feel like you can do just about whatever you want.
Burn the world down, for all you care. You can just buy a new, better one.
Granted, not everyone in your circle is an entitled egotist. There's Helaena, who strangely enough, does not possess a single self-important bone in her body, unlike her aforementioned brothers. Jace, who spends most of his time getting involved in political activism, for the side that his magnate grandfather Viserys steadfastly opposes.
You'd always sit beside either of them in these dinners, for the sake of your sanity. Unfortunately, Aemond and Aegon are never far. Especially Aemond—who occassionally stares you down as he sits across the table. Aegon, seated to his left, whistles at you. "Hey. Hey so... are you still slumming it with the art crowd?"
"I'm sorry?" You narrow your eyes at him. He didn't even say hello or mind if I cut in? as Jace was telling you about attending the DNC rally.
Aemond watches you again, so closely it raises goosebumps along your arms. He's been stealing glances at you ever since you arrived with your family. And you've been openly shooting glares at him when you sense it. Him and that steely one-eyed gaze of his always gets under your skin.
Aegon sneers, and you think how it's so in character of him. "You still live in Brooklyn? Cosplaying as a normie?"
"Fuck off, Aegon."
You've been living in Brooklyn for the past year, trying to finish up your Masters from Barnard. You would never hear the end of how this is the most redundant and useless thing, especially from people like Aegon. It does seem contrived, daddy's little heiress playing at being a scholar at Columbia, but at least you are doing something.
Besides, you have no desire to take over your family's empire. If anything, you want to branch out, maybe take on Jace's proposal on starting a charity foundation together.
"Aegon! Do you know how messed up that sounds?" Jace comes to your rescue, but you know it'll be for nought. Aegon's brain is too warped, too silver-spoonfed, to recognise his folly. You used to feel sympathy for the guy—this life is all he's ever known, and it isn't as if the adults around him ever set a good example, so can you blame him?
Used to. Now, he just annoys you. You grew up the same, but you are not like him, aren't you? So did Hel and Jace. So did Aemond. And Aemond, while still an asshole, is at least someone you can tolerate. He's vicious when it comes to his ambition, but he's genuinely smart.
He's cold and aloof, but he is also capable of tenderness.
You would never readily admit to anyone how you know this about him.
And he's staring you down, once again. You immediately know it's him when you feel someone nudge your shin under the table.
You eye him warily. What do you want?
He raises his eyebrows. Nothing. Just missed you.
At least that's what you're picking up from him. Why wouldn't he miss you? You're probably the best thing in his life right now. He should be so grateful you're still giving him the time of day, especially after everything he's done.
Aemond nods ever so subtly, the gesture meant for only you. You already know what he's getting at, but you don't feel like caving just yet.
It's another long moment of tuning in and out of your conversation with Jace, but Aemond's unspoken question lingers. When you deign to look at him again, he tilts his head to the side. Let's go.
He knows to leave first, and he stands and excuses himself from the table. Barely anyone gives him any mind, the adults debating passionately at the farther end.
You wait one whole minute, your heels tapping impatiently under the table. Then you follow suit.
"I need some air. Might have a smoke or something," you mumble to Jace. He wouldn't want to tag along, the scrunch of his face revealing how much he loathes the habit.
"Just the one," he tuts, raising a finger.
You roll your eyes fondly. "Okay, dad."
Aemond has just lit a cigarette when he hears you come in. The door to the private library lets out a tiny creak then shuts without a sound. He faces the window, his back to you. But he knows it's you. He can almost hear the derision in your exhale. A hint of your unmistakeable Guerlain scent is present in the room.
When you draw closer, he sees the ghost of your reflection on the glass, a mirage perched atop his shoulder. He thinks of the age-old visual of having an angel and a devil on either side. You would be the angel, and the devil... would probably be his own self.
The side he fights to keep buried. He knows you see it, and hate it, but you want him anyway. You let him have you anyway. And these stolen moments with you are the only times when he is truly free.
Without a word, he offers a cigarette to you, his hand moving with a smooth, practiced form that makes it feel like he's not just offering you a smoke but issuing a silent challenge. He lifts his lighter, an intricate, expensive thing engraved with his family crest, flicking it open with a soft metallic click, then holding the flame steady as you lean in.
He can't help but admire how beautiful you are as the glow illuminates your face.
"Do you ever get bored?" you sneer, folding your arms as you lean against a shelf. "Sitting there all night with that smug, 'yes, I agree with all of this' look while your family drones on about the 'sanctity of tradition.' Like a good little heir."
Aemond raises an eyebrow, barely looking up from his cigarette as he takes a drag. You sure have a habit of getting right down to business. "Funny," he replies smoothly. "For someone who 'hates' tradition, you play the part of Daddy's obedient little princess pretty well. I saw you batting your eyes at every gray-haired councilman at that table."
"Oh, please." You roll your eyes, heat flaring in your cheeks, though whether from anger or the way his gaze always seems to pin you in place, despite your best efforts, you can't say. "I'm not doing it because I like it. I don't sit there pretending I'm better than the rest of the world."
"You don't?" He cocks his head, his lips quirking into a wry, infuriating smirk. "Could've fooled me, princess. All I ever hear from you in these dinners are 'Oh, absolutely' and 'Oh, that's so interesting'—like you'd just die if they didn't think you cared."
"Wow, okay, says the guy who spent twenty minutes nodding along while they debated the tax breaks for HNWIs. Planning to cut yourself some more slack there, hotshot?" You take a quick, sharp puff, the smoke billowing out of your lips as you continue your tirade. "You're a damn statue, Aemond. Most of the time, you don't even say a word, and yet somehow you sit there looking like everyone should be grateful you graced them with your presence."
He takes a step closer, and his voice drops. This is something only you can do—you get to him, you hit him where it matters. Or, you're the only one he allows the privilege of doing so. "And you hate it, don't you? You hate that I don't care what they think. That I'm not actually here to impress anyone."
Your laugh comes out bitter. "Please. You don't care because you're so convinced they already think you're perfect. You don't have to impress anyone because you're Aemond Targaryen, right? The perfect heir to a glowing legacy."
"Better that than playing the poor, tortured rebel." He's so close you can count the facets of the sapphire in his socket, a dangerous gleam flashing behind them—another outlandish, excessive thing only a billionaire's son would think to do. "At least I'm not pretending I want to burn it all down while running around in the same circles as everyone else. Tell me, do you actually care about the policies Jacaerys painstakingly explains to you? Or is it all just for show?"
"You don't know me, Aemond."
"Oh, but I do. In fact, I think I'm the only one who knows the real you."
You clench your jaw, craning your neck up to look at him. How ironic that he literally has to look down on you too. "Unlike you, I actually feel something about all this. You sit there like you're above it all, and it's pathetic."
"Pathetic?" He lets out a low, humorless laugh. "You want to talk about pathetic? The only thing pathetic is you standing there acting like a revolutionary when you're just like the rest of us."
"At least I want to get out. At least I want to make a goddamn difference and—"
"Then do it," he says, his tone mocking, as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your face. "Get out. Run off, make your big escape. Show everyone how different and special you are, princess."
"Oh, right," you shoot back, trying to regain some of your moxie after his unexpected retort. "And leave you to taint my image after then?"
He scoffs, the gesture dismissive, almost cruel. "You wouldn't be here if you actually had the guts to go through with it."
Aemond may be a pretentious asshole, but he's right, and you know it. "You know what, Aemond? What if... I tell you that I like it. The power, the status, all of it. Is that what you want to hear?"
He smirks. "You'd be adrift without it. You'd be lost without all this to complain about." His gaze drops to your mouth, as if he could already guess exactly how a rendezvous like this is going to end.
How it always ends.
You feel your breath hitch, your pulse racing even as you grit your teeth against the draw of him.
"Don't look at me like that," you snap, trying to keep the upper hand. You should leave. You know this, know you should storm out and leave him here with that damn arrogant smirk on his face.
Call it a truce, and do it all over again next time.
"What's wrong? Afraid you'll do something you'll regret?"
The challenge in his tone has you seething, heat blazing up your neck. "You're insufferable, you know that?” You try to sound as furious as you feel, but your voice wavers, and the corner of his mouth tilts in a dark, smug smile.
"Then leave, princess." His eyes flash, daring you, mocking you, yet he doesn't move back. "Go on. Show me that strength you keep talking about."
The words are meant to push you away, to test how much you can take, but they do something else instead. They push you over the edge, sending you surging forward before you even know what you're doing, fisting the front of his pristine shirt and yanking him down to you.
Your mouth meets his, all anger and fire, biting at his lips as he smirks against you, welcoming the aggression. His hands find your waist, pawing at your gown, pushing you back until you stumble against the bookshelf.
You try to hold onto the anger, to use it to keep yourself in control, but the way he kisses you—rough, possessive, familiar, with a hunger that seems to match yours—makes it impossible. His hands slip to your hips, fingers digging into you with a desire that you both pretend doesn't exist anywhere but here, in the dark corners of your little meeting places.
"Stop," you gasp for breath, pulling away for just a second, trying to steady yourself, but he follows, his mouth trailing down your jaw to your neck, biting down just enough to make you groan.
His fingers slip beneath the slit of your dress, finding bare skin. "Then tell me you don't want this."
Your head tilts back involuntarily, the blissed hitches in your breath becoming frequent. You should tell him to stop, but the words never come, not with his fingers tracing up your thigh, the pressure of his lean body against yours, the electric shiver that races through you as his mouth tongue dances with your own.
You give in, letting your anger melt into something messier, something that's been building between you both for so long you don't know how to unravel it. Your hands move to his white-blonde hair, pulling him closer. His hand slips higher, while the other is braced against the bookshelf behind you.
There's nothing careful about it—gone are the dynasty heirs who are unfailingly curated and perfect and genteel in the public eye. It's all frantic, hands grabbing, mouths clashing, neither of you willing to let the other take control but both of you giving in to the heat. He yanks your dress up, lifting you and positioning himself between your legs, his breathing rough as he makes quick work of his belt. Then he lets his trousers and underwear drop halfway down his thighs, and his cock springs free, pressing on the draped material of your gown, which you hurriedly bunch to the side.
It's like a sick power play when he takes two fingers and plunges them past your soaked entrance, right to his knuckles. All without breaking eye contact.
But neither has the upper hand. You and Aemond are one and the same.
"Seems like you're ready for me, princess."
"Mhmm, aghh—" He hooks his fingers inside you, hitting that damned spot. "Just fuck me already."
And when he does, his cock practically propping you up against the bookshelf, it's fast, chaotic, your movements nothing short of needy and desperate, as if you're both trying to prove something to the other. You don't care about the priceless first-edition books that rattle precariously behind you, nor about the way his fingers dig into your flesh that guarantee bruises that will show tomorrow. Right now, you're past caring, past pretending that you actually ever cared about anyone but yourself.
And maybe... Aemond.
His groans come out unrestrained against your neck, his tongue flicking over the droplets of sweat, as if he can't bear you being any less than perfect.
Only he can taint you, only he can see you broken in and fucked out like this, your lipstick smeared to the side of your mouth. That same shade of rouge littering his cheek, his jaw, the collar of his shirt.
No words are exchanged, as if they've been used up in your twisted version of foreplay from earlier.
All he offers is, "Fuck, baby, I'm close," as his hips continue in its assault, his hands buried in the softness of your arse, keeping you in place.
"So am I," you counter.
He falls apart inside you, his cock sputtering while lodged deep in your clenched walls. The near-animalistic growl he lets out brings you to your climax, your forehead falling against his as your entire body is rendered limp in his arms.
When you finally pull away, flushed, your heart still racing, he looks at you with that same arrogant smirk, and you can't help but feel the distaste rising back up.
"Still think I don't know you?" he murmurs, smug satisfaction written all over his face.
You glare at him, pulling your dress back down, refusing to let him have the last word even as his expression uncharacteristically softens as he gazes at you, making you want to pull him close and kiss him again. Gentler, this time.
"This can't happen again," you force out your usual lie.
"That's what you said last time, princess."
Vhagar taglist: @kravitzwhore @litchifaerie @g-cf2020 @notsurewhattocallthisblog8888 @noxytopy @fan-goddess @m00n5t0n3 @diannnnsss @nsr-15 @the-awkward-barbie @rockstwrsz @yellowstonebaby @urdeftonesgrrrl @eddieslut69 @callsigncrushx @starwarsdinosaur @qweq-6802 @tulips2715 @joyismm @just-mj-or-not @crystal-siren @all-for-aemond @alokaaaaa @vhwyrm @purpleskiesandroses @technicallystrangereview @jjkysnk @inesdiary96 @weirdblob21 @lonelyladyghost @tssf-imagines @nurtargaryen @paula-lkr @queenofshinigamis @breezyjin @empfm @amanda08319 @unrealwinchester @optimizche @seamaiden @spoffyos @subliiminals @believeinthefireflies95 @ex0tic-vgh @anukulee @mrsmunson-harrington @romyfe06
#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen smut#hotd#house of the dragon#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell x reader
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40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER NINE
thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…
pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc
taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @patscorner @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @slvt4her @uconnpazzi @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @ch12334 @wbb4l
kalena speakss 🪽! chapter in honor of game day! but it’s not looking too good for our faves i fear.
June 2025 — Los Angeles, California
“Can you open the door?”
“In a second, K! Be patient!”
“We need to talk, open this door!” Kaylee yells, her fist pounding against the door.
I groan, tugging on some sweatpants and a shirt over my recently moisturized body. I had just gotten back from my pilates class, fresh out of a shower when she called and told me she’d be visiting.
I throw open the door, stumbling over my pant leg. “What?”
“We need to talk about your birthday show.”
The show is something we’ve been planning all year, music is what I love and I wanted to spend my birthday doing what I loved. But still, this show has been finalized for weeks, so I huff at Kaylee irritatedly. She dragged me out of the shower and banged on my door to talk about this?
“What about it, K?”
“So Summer backed out.” She starts, walking into my condo and dropping her bag on the table. She stands in my kitchen, pulling her work phone out of her pocket and setting the other on the counter. “Something came up, but I got KWN to take her spot.”
“That all could’ve been a text message. Or a phone call.” I laugh, pulling my hair over my shoulder so it would stop dripping down my back. “Why are you here?”
“What, you don’t want me here? Julian around or something?”
My eyes can’t help but roll at the mention. Not because of him, but because of the serious beef between the two.
“No he’s at a conference in Philly— are you guys ever gonna figure out your problems, by the way?” I question with a giggle. I turn around, my back facing Kaylee as I walk into my living room allowing her to make herself at home.
It’s quiet for a moment, no words spoken between me or herself even though I’m waiting for a response. When I look up from my spot on the couch her eyes are small, squinting at me. Kaylee is chewing on her bottom lip as she approaches me, gears turning in her head.
“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you about the cameras last night.” She says. “You sure you didn’t mess with it?”
I try to avoid looking at her. I’m a good liar, but Kaylee has known me since I was 18, I can’t lie to her anymore. She’s suspicious, and though I don’t know of what it’s still incredibly nerve wracking.
“Yeah. Not at all.” Which technically isn’t a lie, I never touched that button, Paige did.
Kaylee nods, her head tilting back and forth like she’s weighing odds in her head. “And what’s his name is in Philly, yes?”
“Yes. Kaylee, what’s up with all the—”
The way she slouches on the couch next to me is exaggerated, a small thump when she cuts me off. “So then who gave you that hickey, Raye? Or all of them.”
In all honesty, I could’ve kept the lie going. I should’ve kept it going. I could act clueless, or tell her it was a bug bite, or that Julian left it a while ago. So many things I could’ve said but I chose to sit there quietly. The words piling on my tongue and dying there.
“Raye, I’m not gonna be mad. Just let me know now, so I can handle it if I need to.” She reassures me.
“No, no, you’re definitely gonna be mad.”
“Was it Paige?” I open my mouth to speak before kissing my teeth. When I make eye contact with her, she’s covering her mouth incredulously. “Raye, no.” She whines.
“I’m sorry!” I start apologizing, but in my heart I know I don’t regret anything.
“You’re gay?”
“I don’t think that’s the most important topic at hand.”
“Right, sorry.” She laughs, covering her mouth and brushing it off.
Even though I can feel her eyes burning holes in the side of my neck, I should feel embarrassed but all I can think about in my head is the manner in which the blonde left those marks on my neck.
I keep replaying that moment when I got home. Heavily buzzed and exhausted, standing in front of the mirror with my hand running across the tender skin. And the moment immediately following when Paige filled my phone with more teasing texts messages.
I remember even before then, when she was laying me down and feeling me up. Being so fucking vulgar in my ears as she told me what she wanted to do to me. So forward and nasty towards me.
The marks on my neck were a bright red last night that transformed into a deep purple when I woke up this morning. It was obvious that Paige was awfully proud of her work and how flustered she got me. After Kaylee walked in and we sat there on the couch, that smirk never seemed to leave her face.
“Those pictures. Were you guys—”
“No, we weren’t doing anything then. I promise.” I reassured. Kaylee isn’t even angry when she looks at me, but her eyes are disappointed; I’ve known her long enough to know that look. “I dunno, she just makes me feel different.”
I don’t know why I feel the need to explain myself. Kaylee simply wouldn’t understand why I chose to cheat on my pretty decent human being of a boyfriend, for a girl I’ve known for a month and a half. There really isn’t an explanation or excuse to be given. I made a mistake. A really bad one, but even then it doesn’t feel like it.
Paige doesn’t feel like a mistake, I couldn’t ever classify her as one.
The woman next to me straightens up, her elbows resting on her knees. She puts her head in her hands, thinking of what to say to me. “Different? You have feelings for her? Or are you guys just hooking up?”
“We haven’t slept together, K.”
She raises her head gingerly. “Wait so...” Kaylee begins. Her body turns to face me, suddenly I’m even more aware of the bruises on my neck. “You’re telling me, you and her have been kissing and hanging out or whatever. Telling me that you’re just friends, when you’re not. But you haven’t slept with her and might have feelings for her?”
“It’s complicated, Kaylee. I—”
“It’s messy, Raye, that’s what it is!” She runs her fingers through her short brunette hair. “You can’t be putting yourself in scandals like this. What if Julian finds out and runs to the blogs? Or if Paige outs your little affair to someone.”
I don’t hesitate to defend Paige with my first breath. “She wouldn’t do something like that.”
“You don’t know that! Y’think she can’t be pillow talking someone else right now?”
I haven’t even thought about the possibility of Paige doing all this with someone else. She isn’t like that, right? Rumors supporting that idea exist, sure, but that isn’t who she is.
“You’re still with Julian while messing with her. You think she isn’t messing with someone else either?” Kaylee practically digs the knife in deeper. “You’re thinking with your heart, not your head, Raye you know better than that.”
I do know better. I’ve always put my career first, but all it took was some icy blue eyes and blond hair to make me lose all my common sense.
I tear my eyes away from her, staring down at my hands. It feels like the weight of the world was sitting on my chest. “Fucking hell.” I mumble under my breath.
“You need to make a choice, babe. It can’t be both, you know that.”
I let out a loud groan, being forced to come to terms with all of this. “Yeah, I know.” I huff. I deserve this, I made this mess, let Paige get this close when I knew I shouldn’t have.
She was always there, everything I ever went through with Julian, Paige was the ear I needed. And because of that she weaved her way into my life and threaded a giant knot that I was left to untangle.
Then there’s Julian. Who even passed all the yelling is still the sweetheart I fell for in the first place. Lifting me up, and supporting me through it all. Yet, I still went out of my way to hurt him over and over again.
I’m fucking screwed.
—
marayemusic
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marayemusic music video coming soon 🕯️?
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—
June 2025 — Malibu, California
“Two minutes is crazy, P.”
“Shut up. Quit being nosy.” I responded.
We played the Storm at home tonight, adding another much needed win to our season. As a result, Nika sits across from me at our table at Nobu, a much needed catch up with my good friend.
“I’m not! I wanted to talk to you about it anyway.” Nika hums. She’s smirking at me by the time I pocket my phone in my brown pants. “Those photos look like you got a lil girlfriend.”
“Definitely not a girlfriend. It’s complicated, Nik.” I answer, reaching for my passion fruit drink and taking a sip. “She got a boyfriend.”
Nika’s jaw drops as she looks at me. Maraye and Julian’s relationship is still surprisingly kept out of the public eye. I had to applaud her for it, I didn’t think she would be able to pull it off with how much Julian had been nagging her.
“Are you being serious.” Nika asks me. Our server comes back to the table with our food. I smile, muttering a thank you and taking my plate of Wagyu salad.
“Oh yeah. Deadass serious.”
“Paige.”
“I swear it’s not my fault.” I shake my head in defense. “She just— it’s literally impossible to stay away from her, bro.”
Nika doesn’t even try to stop the cackle that leaves her throat, ridiculing me and I can’t help but laugh with her. If I wasn’t in this position, I probably would’ve been laughing at myself too. Down bad over a girl who’s in a relationship, and allegedly straight. It’s truly comical.
“Oh my God, you’re pussy whipped!”
“Chill!” I scold, kicking her leg under the table in an attempt to quiet her down from yelling obscenities in this nice ass restaurant. “I haven’t even had sex with her, Nik. This ain’t what you think it is.”
She feeds a piece of sushi into her mouth. “You know what this reminds me of?” Nika asks, tapping her chopstick against the ceramic plate. “This reminds me of Nyla.”
I stop digging into my salad and roll my eyes at the mention of her name. The mention of the girl who I had been seeing for a large part of my college career. We’d slept together for a while, then I caught feelings and made it complicated. In all honesty you could blame Nyla for my lack of dating, but this wasn’t that.
Maraye wasn’t anything like Nyla whatsoever. I truly believed that.
“There’s been many other girls since Nyla, y’know that right?” I explain, my lips moving into a tight line.
“Ew, I don’t need to know about your slut activities, P.” She brushes me off.
“You asked!” I counter.
“My point is, you’re letting yourself get in too deep again.” She tells me and I turn my attention back to my food. “I’m not your mom. Explore, get to know people, I don’t care. But exploring with the straight girl, with a man is gonna get you hurt, P.”
My leg bounces soundly under the table. It’s a weird feeling, because in my heart I know Maraye is nothing like Nyla. But at the same time, we’re doing all that we’re doing while she goes back home to Julian.
“I can never figure her out.” I start, catching Nika slightly off guard. “I dunno if she likes me, or if she just wants sex, or if I’m jus’ a distraction for him.”
“You caught feelings for her, didn’t you.”
I hate that word. Feelings. I hate admitting them, I hate feeling them.
I think I do have feelings for Raye. She’s all I ever seem to be thinking about nowadays. I’m searching for her in everyone else. When someone laughs I’m thinking that it doesn’t sound like hers, or how someone’s perfume doesn’t smell as good as her’s does.
“I feel something for her, that’s for damn sure.” I shrug, mouth full of some fancy steak. “I needa clear my head, I’m never thinking straight when it comes to her.”
Nika stifles a giggle, covering her mouth with her palm.
“What?” I ask.
“Not thinking straight. Get it.”
I stare blankly before shaking my head. This was the person who I was trusting to give me advice. “Ha ha, dyke joke. Real funny Nik.”
“You said it, not me!” The giggles some more before finally pulling herself together. “All I’m saying, is that you don’t deserve to get hurt again. Take some time, figure it all out, and then be honest with her.”
I nod, taking it all in. Maraye is amazing in all ways possible, and I shamelessly want her to myself. But unfortunately that just isn’t the case. She isn’t my own, she belongs to someone else. I keep telling myself that I have to respect that, but it just becomes harder and harder every damn day.
I don’t know how to be second best. I’ve never been second best or allowed myself to be that. Whether it’s basketball or anything else in life, I’d rather be dead last than second best.
So to know that Julian is Maraye’s first choice, and I’m forced to be second is fucking unbearable.
Maybe I do need space. Figure out what it is I want from her and move forward from there. I don’t know how to do that though. I was fucking miserable that week where she wasn’t texting me, now I need space. Funny how that works.
“P?”
“Hmm?”
“You good?” Nika asks, spicy mayo at the corner of her lips.
I nod, feeling my mood slightly diminish just thinking about all this. “Yeah, fine. How’s recovery goin’?” I ask, changing the subject and moving the spotlight off of myself.
#sierrale8ne#kalena’s works ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x oc#paige bueckers smut#uconn wbb#la sparks#lesbian#my fic#40 days and 40 nights
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I’ll also say — as a Californian who is, maybe not aghast or surprised but definitely angry and disappointed about how sideways the voting went in California re: progressive outcomes on the propositions at play this cycle — a big problem with this specific instance is that there is a massive propaganda effort in this state, specifically, to trick people into thinking one way or another about progressive causes. I feel that in my experience, the ‘powers that be’ know that if the language used to describe an issue is too empathetic (or, honestly, just straightforward), a measure will quickly get a lot of support. So, advertising for propositions is severely curtailed in spaces where they know younger and more motivated demographics will be watching, and counter-ads often use extremely oblique and sometimes outright misleading language to make the progressive goal of the proposition sound like a Bad Thing, Actually.
This is the Associated Press’s google tooltip that I got from googling California Prop 6:
I’ll get back to this in a second. For now, here is a link to the full text on Prop 6. It’s kind of a fucking slam dunk in my opinion! The section at the end is particularly interesting to me.
Nobody even bothered to submit an argument against. Why? Because nobody reads this stuff, and the people who didn’t want Prop 6 to pass knew that. I bet if you look into No On 6 campaigns, the rhetoric is probably highly divorced from the reality of what the proposition actually does, and is designed to trick people into thinking that it’s something completely different.
(It’s also very closely connected to the ‘return to tough-on-crime policy’ Prop 36, and they work nicely together to subjugate petty criminals.)
But I think that it’s important to remember that a lot of people just. Didn’t vote. California has something like 38 million citizens, and even if you take the above numbers as 55% of counted ballots — as per the implication in the screenshot of the AP’s tallies — that still accounts for less than half of CA’s population having voted in the first place. So, realistically… like, a quarter of the population voted No on this. Yes, that’s one in four people being OK with treating criminals however the fuck they want… but it’s a dramatic minority of the overall population.
All that said: I agree with OP, that most people don’t think twice about it and allow themselves to be carried by the cultural current. Before I really dug into it with my dad, he expressed the basic sentiment of ‘Well yeah indentured servitude is bad, but they did something wrong, so I don’t know that I mind’; but it took extremely minimal effort to point out how fucked up the situation really is (which is partially because my dad is a reasonable man, but I don’t think that most people would be that much harder to convince.) I think that cultivated apathy is easily cut through, as long as the individual in question already has a decent ethical base.
And I do believe that when it comes California’s denizens, at large, apathy really is their biggest problem. It sucks so, so bad that so few people bothered to vote down-ballot, if they voted at all, but I would rather work with the apathetic than with the outright malicious.
i've been seeing a lot of californians aghast at the proposition to abolish prisoners being used as slave labour getting voted down and i have no idea how to fix this on a societal scale but after having enough conversations with people you really do start to realise that a massive percentage of the population sees prisoners as subhuman and therefore believes that once someone is in prison for any reason then everything bad that's done to them is simply their just desserts
#asterisk: yes I know that in rural areas Californians are basically just red Texans#but honestly even then I think they tend to be less demonically hateful#I remember being in rural Arizona and straight up worrying that we were going to get hate crimed#because SO MANY cars had straight up vile bumper stickers#anyway OP sorry if this was too tangential to your post
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Oh uh forgot to ask in the previous ask (the one with the digital piece of candy and scurrying and stuff)
How do you draw art so good
Like
Is there a method you use or is that just the style you've gotten over time?
you've activated my trap card
I'm just gonna preface that this tutorial is from someone who was not professionally trained and didn't have a lot of free time for art, so a lot of the tips I have is short cuts I use to get the best results quickly
If you genuinely want to get better at art then please look at references and practice that is always the best
However if you are like me and only really do art for fun but want to go faster then these are for you pfppt
Overall I'd say my style is influenced by speedpaints I would watch when I was younger, I like analyzing how people do things and what makes something look "good" to me
I always recommend watching them because they will often have techniques you've never seen before or do things a certain way that you can try out yourself
I consume good art, it feeds me
but seriously it can be super helpful when developing your own methodology, or just generally trying something new
Usually it starts with me pulling some references from artists I really admire and sort of sketching out how they do the things I like
For example 8um8le has like super good anatomy and poses so I focused on trying to replicate how they do that
venemous-qwille is super good at color and pulling focus so that's what I focused on in my study of them
In general I'd say my process is sketch -> silhouette -> color -> shading -> render
I really don't like doing lineart lol
I'd say for the sketch the most important part is using references and just kind of fudging it until it looks correct anatomically/physically
General rule of thumb is spend time on areas of interest, and keep non important areas light (like the stitching on his pants)
I don't do lineart because I think its unnecessary for most paintings I do
I naturally tend to put more time and focus on areas of interest (like hands and feet) and if you use a brush with opacity for the sketch, those areas are naturally going to be darker in the final sketch
Of course this is gonna be different for everyone but it's what works for me
Sometimes I do a really really sketchy layer underneath my sketch/lineart, just so I know where everything is going
Use thumbnails! They are great to help figure out the general layout of things and what pose I wanna do
Next is what I call the "silhouette" layer
This is super important for me cause it helps me refine the figure and make sure the pose/anatomy looks correct, also depending on what color I choose for the silhouette helps guide what colors I'm going to use on top
This piece is a good example of how it works. The silhouette shows me how the figure interacts with the background, how the pose looks and if its any good
The silhouette layer doesn't have to be super clean, as long as it follows the sketch decently well and shows where the figure is then its fine
I also sometimes make the silhouette layer multiple colors to help guide shading and vibe
Next is the coloring layer. I usually make this a clipping layer on top of the silhouette layer, or I change the silhouette layer to alpha lock, either way it saves me time on coloring everything in
Sometimes I am super rough with the coloring too, using like an airbrush or my fav watercolor brush just to generically block in color where I want it
Works out cause most objects have like a bounce light to them from surrounding objects, so this is sort of a cheat I use to get that effect without all the work lol
Also don't be afraid to have the lower silhouette layer shining through, having multiple colors sort of subtly shining through the piece helps lots
Next is the shading layer, this is usually another clipping layer, usually set to "multiply"
The colors I pick here is usually within this range, any color works, just depends on the piece and vibes.
Since this piece is set in a sunset forest I choose a more desaturated orange for the shading layer
I know there's a whole thing about multiply layer being a crutch (and it kind of it) but it is a useful tool when you just want some darker values across the piece but don't want to go through the process of color picking every single darker shade
Also in my opinion it looks better than picking a darker color and setting it to a lower opacity, idk I just think the color has more "depth"
Next is the hardest to explain, sort of the vibes layer
Usually its just a layer of more concentrated color on top of the normal color and I fudge with the settings and values until I get a result I like
Next is the longest step, is the "extra" or the render stage.
Usually I add a background before this step so that if I need to merge the figure better with the background I can
If I render with a white background but he's supposed to be in a dark forest, its going to mess with the lighting severely
Also this is when I add more "vibe" layers on top to get the figure to match the background better
Backgrounds in general I recommend checking out @/derekdomnicdsouza on instagram he's got lots of great tutorials for breaking down backgrounds simply
I'd say general rule for the rendering layer is to focus on the areas of interest and spend less time on areas you don't care about
I even blur stuff out on the edges I don't want people to see, partially to save time on fixing mistakes in areas I dont care about (oop), but mainly to help draw the eye to the areas I do want people to focus on
Theoretically parts of the background should like mesh with the characters, parrallel lines are a no no unless they are directing a viewer to look somewhere, things that are perpendicular help bring things together
tbh I'm still not the best at layout and probably need more practice, but overall this is what I like doing
Overall this is what my layer set up ends up being
Sort of a sandwich with the lineart/sketch as the "meat" lol
Color and basic shading below the sketch, clean-up and rendering on top
I like this method cause it's super flexible if I ever want to try something different or try to replicate someone's style
I can make each step less or more messy depending on the end result and can add a lineart layer if need be. Also if there's a part that is straight up not working or needs to be removed its super easy to do cause I can just paint over it on the "extras" layer, color picking from the surrounding area to get the same vibe
Generally rule of thumb for my style is: get the initial layout of colors, form and shading to look good, then the rendering should be smooth sailing
Really the best advice I can give to get better at art is to enjoy what you're doing and become very very obsessed with drawing a silly little guy
You'll eventually get very good at drawing them pfptpf
#sundrop#moondrop#long post#art tutorial#fnaf sun#fnaf moon#I draw them way too much holy guac#ask#this is for you asker#idk if anyone else is interested in this kind of stuff#i apologize for ranting lol#also me struggling to spell silhouette like 15 times
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🌟 become your dream girl before 2025! 🌟
THIS WILL *ACTUALLY* CHANGE YOUR LIFE.
do you know how many people are waiting until next year to glow up and actually start to become their dream self? now just think, if you started now, before 2025, how far you would be. how much more skills and knowledge you would have. you're literally getting a head start. so what are you doing dilly-dallying until 2025? heres your guide to ending this year accomplishing everything you need to and starting 2025 with everything you need.
in this post i will include mindset shifts, how to become a better person, actionable advice, actually becoming a new person <3
👑know what you want.
who do you want to become at the end of this year? what does your dream girl look like? what kind of body does she have? her clothes? who are the people she hangs out with on a daily basis- friends?
create a very clear version in your head and use pinterest to show photos of what your goals are- for ex: girls at the gym, journalling, writing, studying, reading, learning, walking, with friends, spending time outside, going swimming, playing sports, doing a skill/ hobby.
you can also find an idol/ an inspiration- a youtuber, influencer, parent, anyone who you look up to and want to somewhat have a similar life like them. (for ex: thewizardliz, tam kaur) whatever is important to you this goes hand in hand with the next point:
👑goals.
any unfinished projects, any goals you said you'd do in the beginning of the year, get them all down on paper. if you've finished any of them, great!- tick them off. but if you haven't then its time to lock in. pick the ones that are most important to you. that you know that achieving these will 100% get you closer to your goal. doing this makes sure you get rid of the ones that you think are "productive" when in reality they just help you procrastinate.
finish any unfinished projects or books you have before the new year begins because 2025 is about bringing in new, fresh opportunities and things. for me personally, i have a few crochet projects that i want to finish before the end of this year so i can start the new year with nothing old from the year before!
👑cutting.
you are going to be becoming a new person- new mindset, new values, new perception on life, etc. the people in your life currently probably won't align with this new version of you. because if the people around you still only know the old you, your growth won't happen because it will feel extremely unnatural without the right people around you. this means you're going to have to decide whether you are letting any of your friends go. if they don't serve you or make you feel happier or bring in any value to your life, im sorry but its time to cut them off.
but of course if you actually have good, kind, loving friends who grow with you and support you all the way, keep them. the goal is to remove the people who don't serve your highest self. not remove the people who you know will be there for you.
but along with this, if you notice that those people are acting a bit more weirdly/ strangely now that you're improving- giving you backhanded compliments, talking about you behind your back, or just giving you a weird vibe in general, trust your gut. those people don't want to see you going to a higher place where you're thriving- keeping them in your life can be terrible for your highest good.
remember that doing this doesn't mean that you're not going to get better because BETTER ALWAYS COMES. god will give you more people who you couldn't have ever dreamed could be so amazing. so never keep toxic people in your life out of fear that you'll be alone forever. (remember: 8 billion people in the world.)
👑mindset.
dont wait to change your mindset only once you achieve the dream body or the best grade- start now. people can take away everything from you but they can't take away your mindset, skills, and knowledge. here are some mindset shifts to develop:
the abundance mindset. know that everything happens for your highest and greatest good only! everything will work out in the end for you because God hasn't put you on this earth to suffer. if you are religeous (God) or spiritual (the universe) or even believe theres a higher faith, why on earth would you willingly believe that your purpose here is to have a bad time? obstacles will come your way and you will make bad decisions and mistakes. but all these jsut contribute to the person you are today and the person who you'll be in the future!
i will make it. believe in your vision and yourself so fiercely that you know in your bones that you will achieve your goals. you will travel the world and discover new places, you will get to retire your parents, you will get to buy expensive bags for your mom, you will be that rich sister/daughter/ wife, you will help people around the whole world, you will have people around you who love and care for you, you will achieve whatever dream you had since you were a kid and whatever dream you have right now. you will you will you will! know this so strongly but also know that i will achieve there one day, but i also am so blessed and grateful for the life i have right now! i have so many privileges and such an amazing life that i would never trade away for anything.
growth mindset if you fail, IT IS NOT THE END OF THE WORLD. please stop being afraid of failing, be afraid of never trying!! you have no idea how freeing failing is because once you do, then you'll never have that "what if" in the back of your mind, never have that small voice asking what could have happened if you had done that thing. so if you do fail, perfect! that means that you won't waste any more time wondering what would have happened. having a growth mindset means that you know you're human and you'll make mistakes, but that doesnt make you a bad person and it doesn't take away your capability to still accomplish your goals. if you fail be able to brush it off, and keep trying again and again. Thomas Edison had 1000 failed attempts to make the light bulb. yet he learnt from what didn't work, took that into consideration, then tried again. and again. and again. and now? your probably sitting in a room with light that you have because he persisted in his goal!
stay positive always have a positive outlook and perspective of life. look at the beauty and what you have instead of what you lack. feel happy joyful energy vibrate through you everyday. do things that just make you a more positive person in general! feeling happier makes you look 100x more attractive and will change the way you interact with the world!!
👑be a better person.
new year new you right? so its time you up level the way you talk and treat others. because the goal isn't to be A b*tch, the goal is to be THAT b*tch! so going around being rude isn't going to do anything for you. being kind however- having manners, checking up on people, asking how their day was, being charismatic, etc- thats what can get you so much more opportunities! you're going to be kind, but not a people pleaser- ofc prioritise yourself always but also at the same time- if you have made a commitment to be somewhere for someone at a certain time, honor that commitment. be the friend you wish you had.
being mean to everyone just because you were hurt by someone else is not it. yes, so you were hurt. grow, evolve, heal. you're stronger than this. you're stronger than you think. you can overcome anything and you can become an even better person, capable of loving fully and wholly!
misc tips:
change what you consume. start watching thewizardliz, tam kaur on youtube. have an inspiration/ idol to look up to in life.
workout. i dont care if its not one of your goals to have a fit body, but don't workout for that. workout because you love yourself. because its actually proven to make you happier, because you deserve a healthy, fully functioning body.
DRINK WATER. do you know how many benefits something as simple as that has? clear skin, unchapped lips, better digestive health, weight management, better health, feel more alert and energized, better for immune system, increases brain power, eliminate toxins, ETC ETC!
have a morning routine that literally sets yourself up for success. stimulate your mind with reading self help, learn something, study, focus on a skill, do something that makes your mind active.
journal & check in with yourself.- document your progress! write about how you felt after everyday. did you feel esp happy during anything? do you feel satisfied at the end of the day? or do you find that your day made you feel tired and drained? do you feel regret and wished you did more at the end of the day?
diary- links with the earlier point. document the day. you can write about it, or what i also like to do is video myself yapping to the camera. talk about whatever you want and let your mind wander free!
you are that it girl! dress the part, smell good, make yourself feel so good that you just can't help but feel like you can conqure anything!!
make sure you're consistently reminded of your goals. what do you want? why do you want to achieve it? reminding yourself of your goals will actually motivate you and make you stop procrastinating. for me its that i don't want any old projects or books having to continue into the new year so i've made a plan that will definitely get it done before the next year!
#agirlwithglam🎀✨#it girl#it girl energy#girlboss#self love#becoming that girl#self improvement#girlblog#self development#girlblogging#glow up#2025#getting ready#new year reset#goals#achieving goals#achieving dreams#dreams#goals and dreams#productivity#thewizardliz#glowing up#glow up tips#self improvement tips
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Race Against the Clock
Dick turns the TV on after coming back home from patrolling Blüdhaven.
“Hey, Batsy,” Joker says, waving a knife in front of him with his signature smile. “I’ve captured someone rather important.”
He moves to show the hostage and Dick’s heart stops for a moment. Tim Drake, not in costume, is bloody and bruised in the chair. He’s tied up and he looks to be unconscious at the moment.
“Come and get me. You have five hours to find me or little Timmy here dies a gruesome death.”
The camera moves to a bomb a foot away from where Tim’s tied up. The video cuts, then returns to the news. Dick jumps over the back of his couch and rushes to get ready. He drives to Gotham in record time to find the police already outside of the station.
He drops down. “Gordon.”
Gordon turns. “I didn’t know you were in town.”
“I wasn’t, but I saw the broadcast,” Dick replies. “Where are we in search?”
“I have two search teams out already, but I have more officers here now that I’m about to disburse into search teams. And Batman’s here.”
Dick looks around and spots his father after a moment. He jogs over to him.
“What happened?” Dick asks.
“He was supposed to be at a friend’s house. He never made it, so Joker caught him unaware on the way from school to the house.”
“Damn it,” Dick mutters. “I should have been here.”
“Worry about that once we find him,” Bruce says.
Dick nods.
“We need to create search parties,” Gordon says. “The faster we find Joker, the faster that Batman or Nightwing will be able to take him out.”
Dick starts droning out Gordon’s instructions, instead focusing on where Joker could be keeping Tim.
He was in a warehouse, so most likely in the southern half of Gotham. Though there are a couple in the northern side.
“Yes, sir!” The call from all of the officers snaps Dick out of his head.
The officers separate to their cars to start the search. People on foot start searching as well.
“We split the city in half,” Bruce says to Dick.
Dick nods. “I’ll take the northern half.”
“Sounds good.”
The two separate, heading in their respective directions.
Dick quickly heads for the cluster of warehouses in the northern part of Gotham on his motorcycle.
“Dick?” The voice belongs to Barbara Gordon, Batgirl."
“Hey, Babs. What do I owe the pleasure?” Dick asks.
“I just saw the report. What’s the status of the search?” Barbara asks.
“Haven’t found anything yet, and neither have the police. Batman’s empty handed as well.”
“Damn it. I’m gonna get into costume when I get home and search too.”
“Where are you?” Dick asks.
“On a train back to Gotham. I was at a lecture,” Barbara answers. “I’m almost home though. I’m on my way, I swear.”
“Sounds great. Help is always appreciated, and I don’t know if my anxiety can handle this. It feels too much like when…”
“Hey, we’re gonna find him, okay? Tim’s gonna be okay.”
“He will be,” Dick says. “I don’t care if it’s the last thing I do, I won’t let him die.”
“I’m about to get off the train. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Barbara says.
“Godspeed.”
The comm cuts, so Dick returns his focus completely to the road. Once he’s close enough, he gets off his bike and starts going on foot. Going from rooftop to rooftop, focusing on running and his footing.
Falling off a building is not allowed today.
Dick makes it to the warehouses and sees guards guarding the entrance to one of them. He drops down and takes out all of the guards but one.
“Is Joker here?” Dick asks.
The guy nods. Dick knocks him out, then heads to the roof of the next building.
He spots Joker and Tim through a window.
“Batman, I found where Joker’s hiding.”
“Where?”
Dick sends Bruce his location.
“I’ve received it and I’m on the way.”
“I’m gonna get Tim.”
“Be careful. Batgirl's on her way too. She heard about the incident.”
“Tell Babs I don’t need the backup, but that it’s cute that she’s worried,” Dick jokes.
He jumps down to the flagpole and swings off of it. He slams through the window feet first and lands in a neat roll. Joker starts shooting at him the second he gets into the warehouse, so he ducks behind some of the machinery. Dick grabs a batarang and throws it at Joker. Joker dodges it, so Dick runs out and delivers a roundhouse kick to the side of Joker’s head. He stumbles, so Dick throws him into the wall and he slumps over.
“I’m one minute out,” Bruce says in the comm.
“Sounds good.” Dick goes over to Tim. “Hey, you okay?”
“As okay as I can be,” Tim answers.
“Good.”
Dick pulls a batarang out of his pocket and checks to make sure it’s sharp enough. He then cuts Tim’s restraints with the batarang.
“Batman should be here, so go find him. I’ll deal with Joker.”
Tim nods, then stumbles towards the exit. Dick turns towards Joker and the bomb, and sees that the timer says ten seconds. Panic shoots through Dick.
This will kill Tim if it goes off. The flames will blast through the hallway.
Dick runs towards the door and uses all of his strength to push the door shut.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I’m sorry, Tim,” Dick says, then the bomb goes off.
An explosion rocks the warehouse as Batman arrives on the scene. Bright flames pouring out of every exit that it can find. Before he has a chance to react, Tim stumbles out of the warehouse.
“Where’s Nightwing?” Bruce asks, rushing over to Tim.
“He’s not here with you?” Tim asks.
Dread washes over Bruce.
He gently grabs Tim’s shoulders, gaining him a cringe from Tim. “I need you to go over to Gordon. Tell him that I’m going after Nightwing.”
Tim nods, looking on the verge of tears. Bruce runs into the warehouse, pulling the gas mask on so he doesn’t have to worry about smoke inhalation. He goes through the building until he comes to a heavy metal door. He pulls it open and his oldest son falls at his feet. He’s covered in burns and cuts, and he clearly isn’t breathing.
“No,” Bruce says, then drops to his knees.
When he checks for a pulse and doesn’t find one, he starts doing CPR. Tears are streaming down his face as he tries to force oxygen into lungs that are no longer working.
“No, you can’t die. I can’t lose you too,” Bruce pleads to deaf ears.
After almost a whole two minutes of CPR, Bruce stops and breaks down sobbing on his son’s chest.
“Please, no. Dick, I need you. I need my baby, please.”
Tim watches Batman walk out of the warehouse holding a burned and battered Nightwing. Tim’s face lights up for just a moment, until he realizes that Dick’s limp.
Tim’s smile disappears in an instant.
“No,” Tim whispers.
Gordon looks up from his radio and sees the two. “Oh no,” he says.
Gordon jogs over to Bruce. They have a quiet exchange which Tim can’t hear, then Gordon comes back over.
“Come on, let’s get you to the station,” Gordon says.
“No, I can’t leave them,” Tim says, then runs towards Bruce.
Bruce turns and sees Tim. “Don’t come over here!” Bruce shouts, but Tim doesn’t listen.
He makes it over and Bruce tries to shield Tim from the view with his body.
“Grayson,” Tim says. “He’s… gone?”
Batgirl runs over and stops short. She sees Tim, then runs over and scoops him up. Tim cries his protest, but is in no shape to stop her as she takes him back towards the police cars.
“Stop, please!” Tim cries.
“I’m sorry, Tim,” Barbara says. “You don’t need to see that.”
Gordon takes Tim to the station, where a paramedic patches up his injuries. Bruce shows up not long after, looking terrible. He rushes over to Tim, who won’t even look at him.
Bruce takes him home and no attempt works to get him to eat, drink, or sleep. Tim is inconsolable.
The funeral, which happens a couple of days after Dick’s death, is quiet. All of Dick’s friends are in attendance, super or not. Many members of the League attend as well. Bruce gives a beautiful speech about how Dick made him a better man from the moment he entered his life. How Dick was a bright kid who wanted nothing more than to help people. That he was dearly loved and will be missed by everyone who knew him. Tim’s quiet and fights tears throughout the entire event.
The ride back is completely silent. When they get back to Wayne Manor, Bruce grabs Tim and pulls him into a tight, but gentle hug.
“It’s okay to cry, Tim,” Bruce whispers. “But it’s also okay if you don’t want to cry now. Just know that I’ll be here for you.”
Tears spill out of Tim’s eyes and he pulls away from Bruce.
“He died because of me!” Tim exclaims. “You should be furious with me! Why don’t you hate me?”
Sobs wrack Tim’s small frame. “Why… Why don’t you… hate me?”
Bruce kneels down in front of Tim.
“It’s not your fault,” Bruce says. “Dick risked his life for someone he loved. I will never fault him for that, and you’re alive. I could have lost both of my sons that day, but I didn’t. You’re alive and that’s so important.”
Tim puts his head on Bruce’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, he caught me unaware.”
“Don’t be sorry. It happens to the best of us.” Bruce hugs Tim and gently rubs his back.
Alfred walks into the house.
“I’ll make dinner tonight, Alfred,” Bruce says.
“No need, Master Bruce. I need the distraction. You should stay here with young Master Drake,” Alfred replies.
Bruce nods.
After dinner, which none of them eat much, they tell stories about Dick and all the wild and lovely things he used to do.
#whumptober#no.1#race against the clock#search party#batfam#batman#dick grayson#bruce wayne#tim drake#nightwing#alfred pennyworth#angst#major character death#whump writing#writing challenge#whumptober2024
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The only thing that seems like it'd work is fixing public education. I remember when I was maybe 12, my class was taken into the library and taught basic internet searching skills, how to spot unreliable websites, and so on. None of it was new to me, but having it presented in an official capacity made me think about it more often and harder from then on.
I had assignments that revolved around research, which taught me a bunch of stuff about how to find good information.
Hell, even the ability to type at a reasonable pace is something I picked up from school.
So, what schools are like these days is going to be speculation, I don't know what's up, and it's going to vary wildly from place to place. But here's my best guess:
Schools, at least in the US, have been slowly bleeding talent, money, and respect since the start of the pandemic. Essentially, kids are left to self-educate. I like teaching myself stuff via online tutorials and stuff, but that only works because I have the necessary self-discipline and underlying skills. It seems like in most schools, everyone is in survival mode, and a lot of stuf that would have been taught because it's "The Right Thing To Do" is hitting the cutting room floor. Nevada's elections are having an issue with young people not being able to sign their names, for example, because we cut cursive teaching. I don't think of cursive as particularly useful, but some things are written in it - and being able to sign your name is of obvious importance.
Services like Instagram and Tiktok are appealing because of their ease of use, and the network effect, and their ability to direct you into a hyperspecific niche. But the time and energy spent in these apps and services (having tried both, they can be incredibly overwhelming) is not spent socializing in a real, tangible community. On Tiktok specifically, it seems like it's actively harder to do something as basic as learn a creator's name. For example, Amaury Guichon's name is on every one of his tiktoks, but everyone calls him Chocolate Guy. This is not true of any other creator I'm aware of. The experiences are smaller and less lasting than any other media, but are the most readily accessible.
The "I don't want to pay money for internet anything" culture is strong, with my generation and younger. Even if quality stuff is out there, we don't want it, because it's behind a 99 cent paywall. Part of this is the soft age-wall for getting a credit card, but part of this is just stubbornness. New York Times and Washington Post, both respected and reasonably-truthful newspapers, are paywalled, but Conservative """Newspaper""" du jour are free. When I see a paywall on a newspaper, my first instinct is to get around it, not pay up. A few outlets, like the Guardian, have started working with, rather than against, this behavior, but they're in the minority. The impact of this attitude on creators on platforms like YouTube and Twitch is a whole other discussion, there's some good and some bad. But "old media" (books, movies, TV, etc.) is suffering - and people who should be experiencing that stuff are suffering too.
Third spaces for young people basically don't exist. Why exactly this is is a long conversation, but the result is that everyone's on their dang phones, even if they'd get along really well with someone who lives half a block away.
Because of all of the above, patience is not a virtue most of us have. On the internet, anything you don't like can be out of your face in seconds, and there's always an infinite void of content to gorge yourself on. In meatspace, not so much. I don't think the "zoomer attention span" is real, I think it's more along the lines of Gen Z have not been taught to tolerate mild discomfort very well. The effects of this on social organizing patterns is... bad.
The result of all of this is that young people (and I'm part of this) don't have solid social ground to stand on. Everything is online platforms and services that are fickle, fragile, and can't be negotiated with. Finding friends is difficult, and everyone's social skills are atrophied to some extent.
How do we fix this? Fund schools, make spaces for young people to hang out in, and find tunnels out of doomscrolls. I've seen a promising trend in YouTube shorts of people linking longer related videos to pull people out of that infinite scroll.
And tumblr is a good example of this. We have a mix of shallow and deep content, and a culture that's not flexible, malleable, and disposable in the same way that TikTok's is.
I am concerned for gen z. Like I don't think they're doing okay. I think algorithms and a systematic denial of easy access to facts because of Internet enshittification has made them unbelievably miserable with very little sense of how warped their online experience is. Idk how to fix it.
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MORE DIALCLAN DESIGNS !!! first image are some dlc fellas (peter, joe, omair, and fabron), then bunny n abel, and lastly god. name talk and other bits under the cut.
thank you to friends @/computercreature, @/songleap, @/tigsbitties, @/spoonbenders, @/bandtrees, and @/teruthecreator for help with names and designs :]
peter: peter's main design philosphy is being as generic as possible. he's the jon arbuckle of phones, being a model 500, and is overall just a very visually plain guy. as such, he's just a solid black shorthair- with rusting to get that red across, and blue eyes to match his shirt. "oakpelt" is also intended to be a generic as fuck name. his design is overall squareish, like the view we get of his phone from his sprites.
joe: joe just kinda feels like a scraggly street cat to me. all black, to match his head and suit, with ears that point inwards and significant cheek fluff to mimic the shapes of his phone. "sootsky" refers both to his coloration, like soot, and to the smoggy area that we meet him ingame.
omair: since dialclan takes place in the city (the clan lives in alleyways behind gabby's shop), i can get away with a lot of kittypets. omair's blue in the same way that jadefeather/randy is blue and mulberrycrown/mingus and crownstar/callum are purple- styilization, he's not literally blue, in real life would be grey. he's got round, sloping shapes like his head, and a heart-shaped marking on his chest to mirror that one adorable heart-hand sprite.
fabron: scraggly as FUUUUUCK. a square head to mimic his monitor, with a square marking on his face to look like a screen. he has very tall ears, one of which is mostly ripped off, to be evocative of his antenna. yellow eyes like the markings on the right side of his head, and his tabby markings make a little mustache. so he looks french. for his name- "-sight" is derived from the whole deal where he's got an eye on his screen from the little billy thing, and "stream" is mostly in reference to his head being a monitor and him being in a room full of monitors, stream like video.
bunny: pretty straightforward. big tomcat jowls to resemble the bell mechanism on his head, prominent claws to match his manicure. big chest fluff to resemble his popped collar, and tall, round ears like a bunny. "bunnyfall" is probably an obvious name- bunny because bunny, and fall because madame mediocre falled on him.
abel: tuxedo is pretty obvious for him with the coloring. he's purple-tinted like most of the mingling. tried to make him visibly aged with wrinkles and greying- sometimes i forget that hcing him as like, 60-70 isn't much of a Thing outside our friend circle, but yanno. tall and lanky like his candlestick phone. "applegaze" is a two-part pun- "apple" sounds like "abel", but mostly it's just referring to his apple watch (see also, the marking on his front leg), which is a particularly important part of his design to me because of an inside joke.
god: main design philosophy: you gotta kinda squint at him and go "wait, is that a cat or a dog?" he's just hanging out. i don't think he has a proper name, much like our pal hound/hobo/god/etc ingame.
#art#dialtown#dialclan#peter kennedy#joe dialtown#omair haddad#fabron farrow#bunny dialtown#abel brannigan#god dialtown
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The Sirius being in love with James if he was into dudes is so real - how did Jegulus and Wolfstar become so popular when Prongsfoot was right there?!
The real reason is that shipping is more often a product of what fan culture wants than what the story itself shows (which is fine!) When Wolfstar became a thing, Jily was still the most popular ship for the MWPP era, and so you basically could have everyone's favorite characters double-dating (perfect excuse to cut unpopular Peter out of the dynamic altogether.) It was insanely popular for years and dominated all fanart and fanfic for those two characters—people when the books came out really thought it was canon and there was a lot of drama when Remadora sailed. The dynamic with Sirius and Remus in those fics played with a lot of typical/popular slash tropes (cool guy and bookish hot nerd) of the early 2000s.
Now, people ship what they ship, that's fine. My biggest issue with Wolfstar is that I feel like it led to people in the fandom fundamentally misinterpreting the dynamic of the Marauders as a group. James is clearly the person both of them like and trust the best of their friends, and it's canon that they both distrusted each other enough to each think the other was a spy. There is nothing in the books that would indicate there is anything particular in Lupin and Sirius's relationship (they might have actually been the least close of the four, given what happened.) In the Willow scene there is a classic adolescent boy group pecking order and Lupin is very obviously below James in Sirius's esteem. It's not a friendship of equals and is never portrayed as such. Lupin's inability to check Sirius and James's less savory behavior is a major character defining trait—he and Peter are both the followers in the group.
For the record, I think you could write Sirius/Remus in a romantic dynamic that would be consistent with their characters in the books, it would just be a hell of a lot more dysfunctional than fandom usually portrays them. Sirius would probably be using Lupin because he can't get James and Lupin would understand that's what's happening but put up with it because he has low self-esteem. He would still be passive-aggressive as hell, though.
Of course, Sirius and James having a romantic relationship gets in the way of the most important canon relationship, that of Harry's parents, which is why I suspect it never got a lot of traction in the fandom.
Jegulus seems to be a product of just moving away from the books/straight ships tbh. Back in my day Jily was a totally sacrosanct ship, nobody shipped either of them with anyone (except Snape with Lily, which actually had a canon basis! I guess Snape/James sort of existed too, but that was pretty fringe.)
Bonus: I even find Sirius and Snape being shipped together more plausible/interesting than Sirius and Lupin, lol. Shout out to the Snack people.
#anti wolfstar#sirius black#remus lupin#harry potter meta#harry potter fandom studies#james potter#prongsfoot#i'm waiting for my brother to fly in for the weekend so i'm writing way too long answers
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Off Schedule
[CCCC FIC] Contains: Platonic Soul, Heart and Mind, Pet regression, [~4,000 words]
Stressed petre!Mind + Caregivers Soul & Heart! From the request "s.so. so puppy mind after a stressful day with heart and soul as caregivers,," Mind can't complete its normal nightly schedule, and gets super stressed because of that... Luckily, Soul and later Heart help him relax :]
Fic under cut! or on AO3
It was hard to understate how much of Mind's, and really all three of their, mental state was linked to their physicality. Sometimes, this worked in his favor. Indeed, today was one of those days, at least, he'd thought it was.
If it tried to ignore all the strife and focus entirely on getting things done, it could set aside... most of the annoyances. His body was more machine than flesh at this point, and any phantom pains could easily be ignored for the Whole. He didn't want to disappoint his Soul [or his Heart], after all.
It wasn't thinking today was a good day now, curled up in bed, an hour before it'd regularly turn in for the night. He had started lagging earlier in the day, but had decided against slowing down his usual schedule; if he was feeling bad, that just meant the whole was having more intensive thoughts and needed him more than ever. Rest was not an option.
This had gotten him only though most of his routine, but, annoyingly, he couldn't get done with his last step. Every night, he'd read for about an hour before bed. This usually helped him wind-down and get relaxed and into the proper headspace, but his head was too scattered. That really was the last nail in the coffin.
He could stand an increased workload, the impending dread that something was Wrong, but his schedule... God, he didn't even know why he was so stressed out. He'd finished everything actually important, had finished everything that would actually help the three of them. The only thing he couldn't get to was some frivolous wind-down time, truly pathetic that that was what had done him in.
To add to this horrible mess, he couldn't even get to sleep. There was a buzzing under his skin, a restlessness he couldn't shake. He wanted to move. He also very much Didn't want to move.
A knock at his door startled him out of his curled up ball on his bed. He grunted an acknowledgement, hoping they wouldn't come in. He was... not presentable. He knew he'd probably be mean and unsociable, and that would just get so tiresome when it made the other, whoever it was on the other side of the door, inevitably got annoyed with him.
Apparently that wasn't enough for them, [figures, he was never enough.] because the door creaked open. It was Soul.
"Mind...?"
He turned away with a growl, hoping Soul would get the message. It was not in the mood.
"You okay man?"
Clearly, it didn't. Figures, Soul could never mind his own business.
"Yes. I'm... Fine." The words were slow and stilted, like it was pulling teeth.
Even without looking, he could tell his host was narrowing its eyes at him. The bed dipped with extra weight; Soul had sat down at the bed's foot. He was just getting ready to tell him to fuck off when he felt a hand reach over and settle on his forehead. Oh. Soul was in a touchy mood today. [Those were always nice days.] Maybe it could... wait a little bit, before kicking him out. Just a few moments, of course.
"Not too warm or hot... I guess, if you're sure you're fine, I could leave." Soul had become a bit of a worrywart in concord, caught up in attempting to make sure everything was running smoothly. Still, it backed off if one of them started getting snappy. a good call, because usually, Mind found the mother-henning kind of annoying [it was, after all, the one supposed to be keeping things in order. Any more than the base worry started feeling suffocating.]
Today, however... the idea didn't seem too bad. It was selfish to consider, because it knew it was liable to lash out like this. That wouldn't be a good ending for any of them, for Mind to snap at Soul only trying to help. Still, the temptation.
"No."
"You want me to leave?"
"No." It growled, frustrated with its inability to talk clear and the fact Soul misunderstood. God this was already getting it angry; this was definitely a bad idea.
It rolled over until it was back to facing Soul, squinting a bit at how light it was; his dear host had left the door open, and the hallway light was on. Annoying. Worth it though, because he could push against Soul's side, making it very clear he didn't want him to leave.
"Okay, okay, I get the message." Soul giggled. His hand gently carded through Mind's hair, "Think you could tell me what's wrong? Sick, tired, stressed-"
Mind nodded at the last one, careful not to dislodge Soul's hand, before contemplating for a second and holding up two fingers for the second option: he was also pretty tired. Soul's eyes softened a bit at that, drooping in the corners [reminding it of the portraits of Him Soul hadn't covered up].
"Want some help relaxing?" the words were a tad hesitant, and they were paired with gentle hands sliding behind his ears [something it leaned into easily. Again, touchy days were Always the best.] It didn't sound like it knew if it should be offering and it took Mind a moment to realize, exactly, what it was suggesting; usually he was the one asking, albeit awkwardly, if Soul could look after him while regressed. Even then, Mind hadn't really done it much...
It nodded, after a few silent moments weighing the pros and cons. It didn't have to talk, or make any decisions, or do any work, and it could just have Soul dote over it... it figured it had done enough productive work to earn itself some pampering. Probably. Maybe. Anyway, Soul was offering; to not take the opportunity would be... illogical.
Seeming satisfied with the confirmation, Soul pulled away. Before Mind could get snippy and whiney about it, he quickly explained himself, "just getting your stuff... unless you want to do it without it?"
That was logical enough, still a bummer though. It just huffed, "Fine."
His host rolled its eyes at him, but made quick work of sorting through Mind's drawers and pulling out its collar, along with its dog themed socks and gloves. He made a quick detour to the door to close it as well. [Much to Mind's gratitude. The room was now lit by a slightly dimmed light: pleasant.]
Mind didn't really have much he did with regression, so new to it; Soul easily kept track of everything it did, usually the one with him during. He was back in moments. Still, the sun took each item from its host to put on itself; it had already submitted itself to enough vulnerability, it could put on its own socks.
Now finally ready, and already feeling the tiniest bit better, it felt all the antsy-ness and over-energy come back with force. The buzzing underneath its skin was getting hard to ignore. He hoped Soul would be fine with a more playful session than usual.
"Now who's my good puppy?" Soul cooed hands reaching out to cup its face, like, well, one would do with a puppy. It wasn't really a puppy just yet, but the sweet words usually let it fall into it more easily. While definitely a tad embarrassed, it relaxed almost instantly into him. It knew it would feel great once the first little bump was gotten over. Just needed to let go a little [a Lot].
"Good boy!"
It shifted a little further into him, letting itself fall almost into his lap, nodding. Talking always got a bit hard like this, and it was already having a difficult time beforehand. That was fine though, his Soul was definitely expecting it.
"Want to play, or nap, Apollo?"
Oh the nickname was definitely the last straw; he was wholly in puppy-space now. It wanted to play, and it let him know with a playful yip and pushing its full weight into him; wrestling was always its favorite.
Not expecting the switch to such loud enthusiasm, Soul staggered a bit and nearly fell over when Mind bowled into him. He chuckled a little, hands gently pushing at its shoulders to get it off of him.
"Sorry puppy, I'm not the most into contact sports," he summonsed a chew-toy, characterized like all his summoned objects by a solid red color, "Wanna tug-a-war instead?"
Well, it wanted to wrestle, but... whatever; tug-a-war could probably be just as fun. Grabbing onto the toy, it gave a harsh tug.
With that, the game was on; Soul made sure not to pull too hard, not wanting to hurt Mind's jaw or teeth, but Mind had no such reservations. It growled around the toy, teeth sinking in further than it probably should let them. It could let out way more of that nervous energy it had had throughout the day like that though.
Soul didn't seem that happy with its disregard for propper safety, "Hey! Drop it boy, drop it."
Normally it would heed the call, it always adored the way Soul would coo soft praises when it did as he asked, but today it needed to get out these feelings. Shaking his head like a dog, it gave another sharp jerk at the toy. Its teeth hurt for a moment, probably why Soul let go.
Later it would recognize letting go as not an unsound decision, [Mind's jaw Had hurt for just a moment before Soul released the pressure, and it definitely would have hurt more if Soul Hadn't let go.] but in the moment it just went flying backwards and off the bed, hitting the floor with a loud thump and whine. The fall was onto carpet, and didn't even hurt that much, but the betrayal certainly did.
He heard a muffled "shit" overhead, but that was quickly ignored in favor of whining as loudly and pathetically as possible. This sucked, its back Kind of hurt, and Soul had just been incredibly horribly mean to it. That was such a mean way to win tug-a-war, cruel and unusual! Everyone in a fifty-foot radius Needed to know that. Immediately.
Soul was on the floor with him in an instant, cooing soft words and shushing gently, like that would earn him forgiveness for what he'd done. [It Did forgave him, but Soul didn't need to know that!] Its tantrum was definitely stressing Soul out more than the fall hurt it, but that serves him right! Being mean to a puppy is crime punished ten-fold.
It seems it’s wailing had gained it more than just Soul’s frantic attention; loud footsteps echoed from the hallway. Heart, probably, but in the minuscule off chance it wasn’t, it shoved itself right into Soul’s unprepared lap. He could make up for being so mean to it by protecting it from any monsters that may or may not exist. [That was definitely why he went into its lap, and not because Soul was very comfortable.]
The door creaked open yet again, and Heart peaked in. “Everything okay in here? I heard a thud and ah, a lot of noise.”
Soul was quick to answer, “ah, yes. Everything is fine. Mind just took a bit of a tumble.”
As if to accentuate this Mind let out a little whimper, needing Heart to know he was having the worst time in the world [or well- it was actually having a rather nice time, but it was ignoring that]. The moon would have sympathy, wouldn't he?
Heart seemed to need a second to realize what that sound was, and when he did he let out a little giggle. “Do we have a puppy in here?”
They didn’t wait for Soul’s “yeah” before going on, closing the door behind them. With a few directions from their host, he settled down on the floor beside the two of them. “Mind if I join you two?” The question seemed mostly in jest, Heart had already sat down next to the two of them, but there was an underlining genuinity.
Mind heard none of this, and was warring between two decisions: one, stay in Soul’s lap [rather awkward, because it hadn’t been prepared for him to just crawl on,] or jump at Heart and see if he wanted to play wrestle. Soul was very warm, and past a bit of squiring, pretty comfortable, and had even started giving it pets, but Heart would probably take him up on the offer of wrestling…
The two had moved on in conversation while it considered its options. Soul was answering a question it didn’t catch: “I really don’t know why he’s being so loud… the fall was pretty short. Do you think it might have landed wrong?”
Heart was making considering noises, but Mind was fuming. The two having conversation overhead didn’t bother it at all [it rather liked that they didn’t expect or need it to contribute] but Soul didn’t even know why it was mad at him?
That was definitely the last straw, and it wriggled out of Soul’s gentle hold to run into Heart. He didn't bowl them over, but that was only because Heart was a brick wall compared to Mind. There was a giggle, and large arms wrapped around it in a hug. It squirmed for a moment in the hold before leaning up to lick a stripe over Heart's cheek.
This very heartfelt show of affection earned him nothing but a few snickers and getting pushed back a little. Nobody here appreciated him as much as they should. Still, he stopped whining; Heart wasn't the one who let it fall off the bed, after all.
"I think Mind was just mad at you..." Heart said, shoulders shaking with silent laughter now that they'd figured Mind wasn't actually in any pain. "Was Soul being mean to you, puppy?"
"uhuh!" Mind agreed, easily. He wouldn't really say Soul was being Mean, per se. but he wanted to be mean back anyway. It usually didn't like talking like this, but it was going to make a small exception, just for this."B-bad at... playing."
It shoved its face right into Heart's chest now that it had spoken its piece, that was enough of that for now! His Heart didn't immediately react besides shift Mind into his lap more comfortably, face tucked into his neck. After a moment of adjustment, he was immediately on Mind's side; the way everyone Should be.
"Soul did you really fuck up playing so bad you made him mad at you? When he's like this?"
"Don't swear in front of it!" Soul, sidestepping the question, interjected.
There was a moment of silence, with the exception of the rhythmic thump of Mind's tail, before Heart burst out laughing. "You, my Soul-" He couldn't finish, giggling and wheezing way too hard. He tried again, "You censor yourself in front of Mind?"
[Mind knew Soul Tried, he was just very very bad at it. If he had any of the want to count he's sure its pretty high in the double digits, and they've only started doing this for a couple weeks at this point.]
"Yes! I do!"
"He's- He's still Mind. I don't think censoring swears will get it more into character either..." They considered it for a moment, like a thought had just occurred to them, "Unless you censor yourself in front of pets normally...?"
More silence, followed by breathless giggles. The sound made Mind want to laugh too, contagious. Soul didn't answer, turning away with a huff.
"Mind's not some delicate little thing like this, Soul." Heart said, turning his attention back to Mind. "isn't that right buddy? You're a big dog aren't you?"
Mind nodded against Heart's chest, giddy at the praise. It liked where this was going, quite a lot.
"Wanna show him how to really play?" His Heart gently shoved him off their lap and grinned down at it, sharp teeth on display. "Know you like wrestling, Apollo."
It lets out a happy yip, wasting no time in engaging in the fun. The two are grappling around the floor in moments, Soul's surprised yelp background noise.
Heart was always fun, never missing the opportunity to stress out Soul or let Mind have some more rough playtime. Not to say they were it’s favorite… just that, sometimes, maybe Mind preferred their treatment to Soul’s.
Like now! Tumbling about the carpet hit the exact itch Soul couldn’t. There was action, loud and aggressive, and it could really get its adrenaline pumping. Best yet, Mind could just let itself sink into it all without having to worry about things going south. The others would never hurt I a puppy, after all.
The thought brought on another wave of giddiness, and it threw its weight at Heart with rendered vigor, finally pinning him to the ground. Victory was his, at last!
Heart didn’t struggle much, a bit out of breath and mostly happy Mind seemed satisfied. At least, that's what it thought. “Ahh how terrible, to be bested by this awful beast…”
[Mind preened at that, for it Was an awe inspiring creature.]
His Hearts mouth turned into a sly little smile, before he was curling up with a lunge and grabbing Mind in a hug, warm and constricting, but not too tight. He laughed, big and loud and exaggeratedly evil, “or so you thought!”
It squeaked and squirmed and made a big show of Not wanting to be caught, but didn’t actually struggle too badly. Playtime had tired it out a little, and it was definitely not at 100% beforehand. Not a good mix for a puppy… Plus how awfully nice it was to be in Heart's arms? He didn't stand a chance.
Yawning, it let it’s chin hook over Heart’s shoulder, attempts to escape his arms short lived and abandoned. The moon was very very warm, one of the many things that made him such an appealing caretaker. How could it not adore someone so warm and snuggly.
There was a concerned noise behind it, and it could feel it’s ears perking up, trying to figure who it was. Soul, [obviously [there were only the three of them here, after all] but it liked having to puzzle it out. Smooth and angelic, with a hint of static, of course that was his Soul.] tinged with only a hint of worry, “was he too rough?” It asked him, before quickly changing gears to address Heart, “It looks tired.”
“It looked like it had too much energy when I got here, just tired it out enough for bed.” Heart’s easy response, self-assured. His grip tightened around Mind and he shifted it a little, like a man presenting a fish they’d caught, “worked like a charm!”
Mind only struggled a little bit at the handling, but rather liked it. There was just something so pleasant about being… a prize. Observed and adored and pampered like a treasure, but any contributions it offered were incidental to it, the machinations of another. Mind could just doze off in Heart’s arms and the soft cooing just came rolling in! It was living the dream.
Soul made a considering sound but didn’t fight him further. It tapped Mind’s shoulder to gain his attention. It to glanced back, eyes already half-lidded and tired from the adrenaline rush of its game ending so quickly.
“Mind…? Want to go to bed a puppy?” His hand was already hooked under its collar, ready to take it off. Usually the sessions weren’t so close to the time it turned in for the night [Mind liked having its before-sleep reading time], and it usually liked to get out of puppy-space an hour or two before bed. Soul probably assumed it wanted out before getting to sleep.
Mind growled, the sound at odds with its earlier good mood. What would have been a squeaky puppy growl on anyone else came out deep and crackling from the sun.
Soul pulled his hand back, palms free, “easy puppy! Was just a suggestion.” Heart was laughing at him.
Satisfied its point came across, it nodded. Going to bed actually did sound pretty nice right now…
Heart seemed to sense its thoughts, because he lifted it off the ground as he stood, gently setting it back on its bed. Like an evil creature that fed off of only suffering, however, he did Not crawl in bed with it.
Letting out a loud whine, it stared between Soul and Heart with a wide eye, glassy with what would be tears if it had any. It earned him a startled sound from Soul, “I thought you were enjoying cuddling with Heart…?” And Heart’s feigned resignation, “well… I guess I have too,”
It turned away from Heart with an annoyed huff. He should’ve been grateful and humble! Not resigned; Mind was a wonderful puppy, to cuddle with him was a gift, or a burden. Eyes drifting right over him to look at Soul instead, it gave a few paws at the air, tying to get him closer without Actually getting out of bed. He let out a laugh, a little indulgent, crawling in bed with it. "Fine, but only if you take off that collar. We don't want it poking you in your sleep, right?"
It huffed, annoyed at the fact Soul was right. Getting pricked in the neck by it's spiky, crown-shaped tag seemed like a recipe for discomfort though, so it presented its neck. Soul made quick work of removing the collar and it wasted no time in tucking itself into his side when he was done. Soul was still moving around a bit, putting the collar on the bedside table and getting comfortable in Mind's bed, but it was still nice.
"Am I still expected to join in?" Heart asked from behind, though he didn't sound too dejected anymore. "Or have I been rejected from the cuddle pile."
Mind considered shooing him away, but ultimately the idea of cuddling both its Heart and Soul sounded too nice. [And maybe.. it didn't like the idea of excluding its Heart from all the fun.] It made sure not to wriggle out of Soul's arms but it did wave him over with its free arm.
His Heart let out an amused sound, "Am I not even worth turning around for?" but crawled in bed beside it anyway, squishing it between themself and Soul. It arched its back a bit, so it could press against both its thirds, earning another amused noise and arms wrapping around it.
Its host didn't really cuddle back, but he did let it snuggle up against his side. His Heart, seeming to have discarded all his feigned reluctance, holding it close to his chest in a firm hug.
All in all, it was perfect. It almost forgot about what had stressed it out, tomorrow would probably be similarly difficult...It tucked itself closer, face shoved into the cook of Soul's neck.
This earned him a concerned coo from its host, "What's wrong buddy?"
Even after all that, it still wasn't in the mood for talking. It just shook its head, wanting to ignore the problem and focus on cuddling. Soul's hand lifted to its hair, lightly scratching its scalp. From behind, Heart cooed little comforts into its ear. The two working in tandem to distract it from its worry.
Soul could never leave well enough alone though, and asked anyway. "Was it what got you so stressed in the first place...?"
It nodded, hesitant. Soul probably wouldn't be dropping this unless it admitted that much, at least. His visible eye softened at that, "Don't worry about that. We can help you out with whatever it is tomorrow, okay?"
That actually sounded pretty nice... It didn't know how much help the two could actually be in the things it normally did, but even the knowledge that they would try was... appealing. Comforting. The thought of tomorrow didn't seem so stress inducing with the two of them around it.
It could feel itself relaxing back into their embrace, the stress lining its figure draining. Its eyes drooped further, the lack of worry and warm bodies around it making it difficult to stay awake. It tried to keep its eyes open though, it wanted to enjoy this. It wasn't common for the three of them to get together like this, warm and safe and without any argument.
One of them, and at this point it couldn't tell who, gently shushed it, "Go to sleep buddy, we'll be here tomorrow."
That was the last thing it heard before the world went dark, the need to rest winning out. Maybe... this wouldn't be the last time they did this.
#cccc#cj#chonny jash#chonnys charming chaos compendium#cj mind#cccc mind#cj heart#cccc heart#cj soul#cccc soul#petre#sfw petre#pet regression#sfw pet regression#jbird's art#jbird's fiction
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Lanolin would never fully understand the Lemur, she was just out of her mind most days. From her insane risk taking, to her bubbly friendliness to anyone she meets. It was hard for Lanolin to imagine just opening up so easily to anyone. But she was a strong fighter, experienced in her own right and reliable to a fault. Plus Whisper trusted her with her life which meant something to Lanolin as she had immense respect for the Wolf.
" Tangle has no impulse control what so ever. She lacks any concern for her own well being... sometimes i wonder if she's addicted to the rush of danger or, just can't connect the dots to see how bad she could get hurt. But then she's tougher then she looks... and alot stronger to "
" Well Don't get to excited about meeting Whisper. She's very quiet... barely says more then she has to. I guess she's opened up to Tangle more? and she'll cut in when its important. But i can say she's the best marksman i've ever seen. Her understanding of Wisps is second to none... She's skilled just, hard to read sometimes... i suppose she's the opposite of Tangle. Maybe its why they get along so well... "
" As for Duo... he's a rookie, says he saw some action during the war, is a decent enough shot, plus he knows his way around machines... Whisper practically vouched for him... but then the whole thing blew up and... i just don't think those two are ready to work together yet... Duo still looks terrified when he sees her. "
Reyna could see that Lanolin spoke fondly of her family, but noted the bitter undertone. Ah, she knows that feeling well: Happy memories tainted by tragedy. She will leave that be for now, and focus on the discussion of Tangle's exuberance for spicy food.
"Eesh. I like spicey foods, but that seems excessive if she can't handle it otherwise. I've never tried a 'ghost pepper candy', and I'm good for not trying them right away." She says. She takes a few bites of the pizza, enjoying it. "Mmm, this is some nice pizza! I'll have to see if I can mimic the recipe when I get back home." She muses after she finishes a piece off.
She hums about the one named Whisper. "I see. It makes sense. While I would love to show Tangle around someday, Arx is a big place. It's built on an island into the ocean, and is a constant bustling center of trade and commerce. She could easily get lost if she's not careful, and all you've told me shows she doesn't really practice caution." She muses.
"Either way, I'd certainly look forward to meeting Whisper. And Duo too." She adds on. She doesn't know what the issue between the two mentioned was. But maybe getting to know Whisper will provide insight on that.
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What's your most hated Bummy scene?? I'll tell you mine. It has to be the kiss in the hospital lobby and buck getting outed because of his soot covered mouth. Never hated a 911 episode more than that. I love Buck. They just made a mockery out of him by that scene.
Where do I even start.. Couldn't agree more about the soot scene, although I'm more angry at the writers about that one than I am at Tommy, given how important it was to Buck that he came out to Eddie and Maddie on his own terms and how much weight he gave those interactions I feel like even though that one was supposed to be a cute little "hehe look this is very Buck coded", it fell short in that I would've liked everyone else at the 118 to find out in a more heartfelt way ya know??
In terms of my least favourite(s), the whole arc with billy boils was a very interesting play by the writers in that it highlighted the differences between Eddie and Tommy in a meaningful way. On one hand, Eddie, who has presumably been with Buck in the hospital the whole time he was being treated for his boils, is used to Buck's hyperfixations and Wiki deep dives, and finds them wholesome and cute. I reblogged a post a little bit ago where Buck told Maddie about how her and Chim always finish each others sentences and that theyre basically already dating, and then contrasted with how Eddie was finishing Buck's sentences in that scene. Buddie fanatic aside (I will admit im obsessed with these two idiots), THIS is the kind of domesticity I've always wanted for Buck's partners, where they acknowledge and love those little moments that he has.
Now lets go ahead and look at Tommy's side of this whole thing: Tommy's reaction to seeing the boils + how he treated and viewed Buck's obsession as exactly that, an obsession + the graveyard scene??? You can break it down into "oh well Buddie have known eachother since s2, Bummy have been together 6 months", but from my perspective the fact that Buck didn't even realise Tommy didn't like women until their 6 month anniversary (???) just goes to show that they don't really know that much about one another. Tommy was completely right in the breakup scene; he was definitely not Buck's last, and the poor guy is definitely in need of some self exploration (#letbuckfuck) before I'd be happy to see Buddie honestly (and thats not even considering the work that needs to be done on Eddie, my guy is going through it rn with Chris). Anyway; I just read this amazing fic by playinginthundestorms (on ao3) and I think the way they described Tommy (slightly Tommy bashing), was overall how I imagine he sees Buck. It never really felt like Tommy was fond of these little things Buck does in the way that Eddie (and the rest of the 118) are, more seeing him as childish or juvenile as the fic described. And it makes sense, tommy is older than Buck. A whole other can of worms and probably the icing on the cake for me was the Abby debacle, the misogyny really showed??? like man you have not changed since Hen my lord. Calling Abby out for running off with some "himbo half her age" was wild considering thats what he is currently doing with Buck? Especially with all the shit she had to go through with her mum at the time? Like what on earth is your excuse Temu? Anyway, to cut a long rant short, I actually have given you like 50 reasons, but i definitely think that Tommy was a well placed plot device and it was obvious from the start. Also, ABC could've chosen ANYONE to be Buck's first experience with a man and they were like yep lets use the racist homophobe from Chim and Hen begins cos why not?! I probably would've had a far less negative opinion of him if he was a fresh character, and I think that's on purpose, I think it would be really interesting if they go down the road of hen and chim sharing their experiences with Tommy now that they've broken up, and that they didn't say anything cos they just wanted Buck to be happy. Definitely after that heartfelt scene with Hen especially, that I didn't get cos of that bloody soot scene.
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ok. yay! let's talk about jason todd autopsy scars.
WARNING: pretty thorough description of an autopsy ahead. if you don't like cut up bodies this one isn't for you.
prefacing this by saying i am not in any way a field expert in any of this, just a guy with really morbid autism and a pretty objectively concerning collection of nonfiction on the subject. i may be wrong about things! i did not crack open the books for my stupid little tumblr post (this time). people with actual experience feel free to correct me.
if jason had had a thorough autopsy performed on him, he would not come back to life* and also probably bruce wayne would go to jail.
*or at least come back with scars from it. more on that later!
if an autopsy was performed it would have to be by someone who knew about batman because robin's scars are pretty difficult to explain. it would be pretty easy to bypass an official autopsy, jason was blown up, his cause of death is not exactly a mystery.
bruce wayne might be the kind of guy who's so obsessive he needs to know exactly which event actually killed jason (if the crowbar killed him, batman couldn't have gotten there in time. if the smoke killed him....). but maybe he also wouldn't want to know for the same reason.
the most important thing is that we know jason had massive head trauma. if you were trying to figure out which of the many terrible things that happened to him was the one that killed him, you'd want to take a look at the brain.
and guys, i don't know if you know this, but the brain only holds its shape because it's inside your skull. the human brain is the consistency of silken tofu. once it's out of your head, it's not going back in.
this is inconvenient for coroners, so they'll probably spend several days soaking jason's brain in a chemical concoction designed to make it firm up. once they do that, it's time to dissect it.
but the fun doesn't end there! once they're done, if they don't just dispose of the brain separately, they're still not going to go through the trouble if wrangling it back into jason's cranium (now open on top, like an egg cup). it goes in the organ bag!
did i forget to mention the organ bag? look, they're not going to put all of his wet organs back into his chest cavity. he's already rapidly decaying. if bruce wayne gets his son back and he's leaking there'll be hell to pay.
so all the organs, which at this point have also been cut into little pieces to study, get jumbled together in a plastic bag. that they do stick back into the kind of gaping hole that the organs vacated. then they stick the ribs back in place (they were sawed off, at the beginning, to gain entry to the organs).
and honestly? without the brain in the mix i can almost believe it. i guess if jason had a really shitty autopsy courtesy of gotham's overcrowded underfunded mortuary? i mean more people who write jason resurrection fic should have to think about the organ bag, and what happens to it. would it just sort of glorp out of him while his organs wiggle themselves back into place? one day i will write my funeral industry accurate jason todd resurrection fic and it will make everyone sad and uncomfortable.
but i guess my thesis statement is that i think it would be really hard to come back to life if your brain was in 7-14 pieces inside a plastic bag where your stomach used to be.
the most likely way for the resurrection to work, in that case, would be to restore his body to its state directly before death, which does unfortunately predate his autopsy.
so what this post is saying is that jason probably wouldn't have had an autopsy, but even if he did, he wouldn't have the scars to show for it.
now, the idea that they're vivisection scars and ra's al ghul was poking around in there? i like that a lot
#jason todd#red hood#batman#dc#dc robin#yeah i know the dead guy being my blorbo is. incredibly unsurprising#and i didn't even get to talk about the burial vault! or be a Fun Ruiner about coffins#follow for more pedantic death posts#maybe one day i will make a nice one about jason being proactive in choosing how he wants his body to be cared for next time#who knows#uhhhh#autopsy cw#gore cw#loose bibliography for this post is of course caitlin doughty's entire ouvre#but also stiff by mary roach and all the living and the dead by hayley campbell#batgirlcoded#thank u for indulging me <3
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This discussion is dearly missing some Uncle Karl, and I say it as someone who isn't even knee deep in theory.
The first thing is alienation. Notice how the discussion above isn't filled with say, car repairmen wishing they could repair hay carts instead, or sailors wishing they lived in the era of rotten rations and scurvy. (Although I fully admit *I* wish to go back to pre-SMD electronics :P)
If you are stuck doing the job of a servant, without even the sliver of prestige and relative prosperity serving the kind of household who could afford servants provided, of course you're not going to be seeing much bad in an era where you'd likely be a subsistence farmer, because work of that nature is inherently more satisfying to a human mind. Notice how people garden in their spare time, but nobody goes to serve rude people as a way of entertainment (except for BDSM enthusiasts)
This brings in a related point that progress as some single sloped line cutting through history is utter bullshit, and for instance, the Industrial Revolution has made most everyone's lives worse for a long while before it made anyone better off. Living in, say, a victorian poorhouse, you could absolutely honestly say that your ancestors say, three hundred years ago were better off than you.
To this also adds a missing element up above and that is freedom as known necessity. Now, I might be misinterpreting this one, so any marxists are free to correct me, but I've always understood it as this: if you run out of your house because it's on fire, that's a free decision, inasmuch as dictated by circumstance - granted, you're not going to be happy at the fire but you don't feel oppressed. Now, if someone aims a gun at you and tells you to get out, I don't think anyone would consider you "free" in this example - you're subject to the will of another. Now, however, if the person aiming their gun at you knew that there's a fire starting *and* that the propane bottles in the basement will blow if we don't get out *now* and so aimed the gun at you... it was as much of a necessity as in case #1 but what changes things is that you didn't know about it. Hence. Known necessity. How does this apply to our topic? The easiest way is that direct comparison between lifestyles with the whole "You live better than kings" is a fiasco for this reason alone. Yeah, a king didn't have a TV set or a flush toilet, but the absence of one wasn't something that entered his mind. (just like I don't spend my days bemoaning the lack of a gizmotator)
Furthermore, this plays an even bigger role for the lower classes. While the situation sucks either way, I'd say it's somewhat more bearable to be hungry because the harvest was shit, than to be hungry because some asshole in corporate decided not to up your wages despite two digit inflation. Now, as per example #3 - it's hypothetically possible that the asshole in corporate is an asshole because he couldn't balance the books otherwise, but you don't know that, and so still feel squeezed. And of course, in things like service industry, most of your misery does indeed come from shitty other people ,either directly or from ways they've actively chosen to make your life more shit (say, cashiers unable to sit in the US)
So yeah, these aspects are quite important, and then there's further issues to go with the previously mentioned positional goods.
Now, not everyone can, indeed, be a general, but the biggest question here isn't so much how many winners does a society have, as much as how many losers. Because there's societies that allow you to be relatively insolvent with dignity intact, and ones who don't, and the second kind will foment discontent and upset. People being rude to service industry workers is a symptom of this - their positional good is that there's someone underneath them yet that they can vent their bile on. But, this goes for general prestige, status etc.
On a complete different end is how some positional goods have gotten grossly devalued, and/or the "market" of them became deformed.
The easiest example here is say, music skill. Easily reproduced music and the breadth of contact networks has, in a lot of ways, killed the positional good of being an "okay" musician. On one side, those with great talent can make it really big, bigger than in a lot of time, on the other, the guy playing a piano at a cafe, or playing a harmonica at the pub has gotten a very shit end of the whole deal, never mind the many many bands whose main claim to fame was that they were local. The same goes for things like writing and relative easy of translation - it's a lot harder to succeed as a "good" (but not great) writer if the works with which you compete are not just from your country, but the whole world (although the niches of the internet have perhaps mitigated this one a little). And so on and so forth, down to how being the most eligible bachelor/bachelorette in your immediate neighbourhood isn't much of an asset in the era of Tinder.
In sum total, while simplistic calls for returning to the past, either from the "left" or the right are stupid, any claim that we're living better than ever is a fig leaf over the fact we aren't even living better than twenty years ago, for most "we"'s probably reading this message, and uncomfortable truths can be discovered by looking into the past.
I think @Earlgraytay has me blocked, though I don't specifically remember having any arguments with them, but I wanted to respond to a post of theirs which asserts that I live better than *anybody* who lived in a pre-industrial society, and I will phrase my skepticism like so:
"If Plato or Alexander the Great or Gengis Khan or William the Conqueror or Leonardo Da Vinci had the opportunity to work at a minimum wage job that they didn't really enjoy until they were too tired to do anything except go back to their apartment to drink and jerk off until they fell into a shallow, stressful sleep before waking up to do it again tomorrow they would definitely do it because that's obviously way better than how they actually lived."
I'm going to go ahead and say that I don't think this is actually obvious.
I'll even say that the more names I add to that list the more facially absurd it sounds.
I don't want to go back to the past and the people who idolize the past are often deeply confused individuals.
But the result of this is a counter-movement which, rather than attempting to figure out what *aspect* of a past society might have appeal, instead simply argues that it doesn't matter because whatever it is could not possibly be more important than Spotify.
And the problem becomes massively bigger if you actually allow people to compare themselves to "Kings" rather than the working class clods of a previous time.
Yes, I live a lot better than a medieval serf. I am really, *really* not convinced that I am living a wholly better life than Gengis Khan or Alexander the Great (Let alone Socrates, Confucious or Leonardo Da Vinci) just because I have a flush toilet.
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