#tote critical

[antianakin]

I mean. I don't think there IS a "Watsonian" reason that works. I just don't. If I did, this wouldn't bother me as much as it does. If there was one that I thought actually worked, the writing would probably have simply been better. Sometimes, a Watsonian explanation simply DOESN'T WORK and you just need to settle for the explanation that the writers probably entirely forgot about how important it is that the chip DOES NOT CARE about the technicality of a former Jedi because Palpatine wants them all dead without exceptions, especially within that first night. The ones who end up getting captured later to become Inquisitors should theoretically be spared specifically because they AREN'T captured by clones or something (maybe it's stormtroopers, or the Grand Inquisitor himself, who initially brings them in).

This is also just such a small line in the episode that I doubt anybody really thought about it as much as I did. It's a throwaway line, more intended to foreshadow that she's going to be a Jedi again by the next episode than anything else. If they'd just left the line out and we never saw a clone speak to her at all, that would've been one thing, we could've just all come up with our random headcanons as to why Barriss was spared. But they GAVE us a reason and the reason is exceptionally stupid and contradicts information we've been given previously. So now there's no way to headcanon around it, you cannot make a Watsonian explanation that works because it just... doesn't. It doesn't work.

But sure. Let's look at this new headcanon and talk about why it doesn't work, either. Obviously if you like it enough to keep it and it's important to you to have it because you loved TOTE and what it did with Barriss, more power to you, but I hope you don't mind that I'm going to analyze it and break down why it doesn't work on this post about why this line is exceptionally stupid anyway.

Ahsoka ISN'T actually made a general, she's officially a civilian consultant during the Mandalore mission. The only reason she's able to act like a general/commander is because Rex and the 332nd know her and choose to give her that kind of authority over them, but technically, REX is in charge and Ahsoka's only real contribution is that she understands more about the mission at hand. The clones really aren't all that confused about what Ahsoka's actual status is here, they know she's not officially a Jedi, and their loyalty to her presumably does not come from whether she's a Jedi or not.

It also just doesn't work for me that the chip allows for the clones to MAKE their own exceptions like that. If it gives that much leeway, this could be a massive problem for Palpatine. Like if the clones COULD just logic their way out of killing one of them somehow, it opens the door for some of them to survive and escape. And also, the whole point of the TCW scene is to show us that the chip CAN'T be worked around through logic. It should not allow for the clones to be able to even CONSIDER what Barriss did or didn't do and whether this does or does not make her a Jedi anymore. TBB chooses to give the clones a little bit more ability to consider their actions later on, once the chip has begun to wear off more, but in the immediate moment of Order 66 and probably the first few days or weeks afterward, the clones should have next to no autonomy over the choice of whether to kill someone that the chip/Order considers a Jedi or not.

It also seems like that would be a really complicated bit of code to try to make it so that the clones only kill people who a) are officially part of the Jedi Order and b) aren't part of the Jedi Order but ARE Force sensitive and act like Jedi sometimes, but NOT c) aren't part of the Jedi Order and ARE Force sensitive but don't always act like Jedi anymore. It's a lot simpler to just say "all Jedi, past and present."

Personally, I feel like the chip should OVERRIDE whatever the clones would've felt about the Jedi in question, not be BASED on what the clones felt about the Jedi in question. That just leaves way too much to chance and I don't see Palpatine being willing to allow that.

So, you know, have your Watsonian explanation if you want it. I'll just still be over here in my corner talking about why TOTE is badly written and makes no sense. I'm not LOOKING for a good explanation, it's not like I WANT to like this show and it's just this one weird line keeping me from enjoying it (honestly if I liked the rest of it and this was the one line I thought was bad, I'd just ignore it or find it amusing probably). I think the show is bad overall and in general anyway, this just happens to be one moment that I thought was particularly stupid. So even if you DID manage to come up with a good enough headcanon to explain it on a Watsonian level, the rest of the show would still be frustrating and upsetting and bad. The stupidity of the line is just an example of the stupidity of the rest of the writing in the show, it's an example of the greater issue with the writing on the show which is that nobody on the writing staff of this show gave a flying shit about writing something that made any sense or was good and meaningful, to the point that they couldn't even do enough homework to know that this kind of exception for Barriss SHOULD NOT HAVE WORKED.

There was an entire major plot element in the Order 66 arc of TCW season 7 about how the chip didn't care that Ahsoka wasn't technically a Jedi anymore and was forcing the clones to want to kill her anyway.

Like.

It's a pretty important part of that whole story that Ahsoka not being in the Jedi Order anymore DOESN'T exempt her from Order 66. It would've been a pretty boring story if that technicality had WORKED.

But somehow the clones guarding Barriss at the prison are totally fine applying that technicality to her.

I guess they just like her better than Rex and the 332nd liked Ahsoka in the end or something. Ironic.

[jitterbugbear]

My bestie's wizard swag is going to skyrocket with this one teehee

[searchsystem]

Lundgren+Lindqvist / Critical Mass Studio (CM–S) / Tote Bag / 2014

[ghostwise]

kinda wanna redesign the lyrium dagger so it doesn't look like the long tendrils of capitalism lovingly caressed it tip to hilt

[vulpixhoney]

ways they could've kept the theme of the gods punishing people labeled as monsters and it's actually more complicated then that" without including the bullshit sexist Ovid "myth" of Athena and Poseidon:

Athena is still the one that helps Perseus slay Medusa, so it would still make sense for her to hate Athena and by proxy Annabeth. To Medusa she was just out here living her life, her and her sisters were just existing. And then the gods suddenly decided she deserved to die. And in most versions of the myth Perseus was just after her essentially as a spoil of war, to offer her head to a king. Or, as a tool to kill said king. She could be angry about that, angry at Athena for helping a couple of mortals kill her, angry at demigods and men for using her as a tool or prop for their own selfish reasons. Angry that she's still considered a monster in need of slaying, and not a woman, a person. Gorgons were considered powerful, revered even. Their visage in Ancient Greece was used above doorways, on coins and jewelry, as a symbol of protection. Like there's such good material here, that's actually accurate to Greek myths and doesn't perpetrate the writing of some misogynistic Roman poet.

[terrorbirb]

:) getting a good grade in my new division at work :)

[broodygaming]

Okay okay is Travis just kidding or do we think Chet is genuinely bi?

[heich0e]

tobio enjoys spending his days off watching the baby and doing chores around the house.

it's a small thing, but it makes him happy to be able to do his part like this. he keeps the baby strapped to his chest while he vacuums, with the little boy contributing to the effort every so often by adding more crumbs to the floor from the rice cracker he's gnawing on. baby sits strapped into his high chair in the kitchen while papa does dishes, with his very own sponge to wave around cheerfully in support.

everything is going really well!

until tobio loses the baby.

maybe lose isn't quite the right word for it. there are only so many places a thirteen-month-old can go in a two bedroom apartment, after all—especially considering he's far too small to reach a door knob, let alone to unlock a door. but even that certain knowledge does little to calm tobio's racing thoughts as he searches high and low for his son, moving from one room to the next at a frantic pace. he retraces his steps, practically from the moment he'd woken up that morning, but it's all to no avail: he'd only left the boy alone for a moment in the living room to put some freshly folded towels in the linen closet down the hall, but when he'd returned the baby was nowhere to be seen.

at the end of his fruitless efforts, tobio's left standing in the living room with his hands gripping his hair, nearly ready to call for help—to you, or the police, or even sugawara-san—when all of the sudden a soft noise catches him off guard. it's a quiet sound. a familiarly sweet one. a sleepy little yawn.

tobio's eyes turn to the laundry basket he'd abandoned in his search for his son, half-full of clean laundry ready to be folded, resting in a patch of sun on the floor where the light is streaming in through the open windows.

he approaches the basket hesitantly, and then with one great, almighty exhale, all the fear he'd felt a moment prior slips from his body. a warm wash of relief overtakes him.

there, in the basket, his son is curled up in a freshly-washed blanket, his tiny little fingers tucked between his perfect, pouty lips, his eyes shut tight while he snoozes.

tobio crouches down beside the basket, breathing out again—halfway to a sigh of relief, and halfway to a laugh.

"there you are," he murmurs quietly, slipping a deft hand underneath his little boy to scoop him up out of the basket. the baby hardly stirs, used to the feeling of his papa wrapping him up in his arms and holding him tight to his chest.

the little boy's eyes flutter open, but tobio can tell he's not really awake—not fully anyway, and certainly not for long. just conscious enough to recognize his father's face and gurgle happily, before nuzzling his little button nose into the man's shoulder.

"you must be tired from all that cleaning," tobio remarks, bouncing the little boy gently in his arms. "rest is critical to maintain peak performance."

he totes the little boy over to the couch with him, sitting down slowly as to not jostle him too much, still cradling the baby to his chest. the laundry can wait, tobio thinks, as he stares down at the sweet little boy in his arms. so can everything else.

(when you arrive home, you find the two of them dozing on the sofa, stretched out languidly in the warmth of the afternoon sun. you fold the last of the forgotten laundry, and then kneel beside the sofa to quietly admire your two boys while they're sleeping so peacefully. you fall asleep like that too.)

[indulgentdaydream]

Comparisons Pt.2

Jason Todd x Jealous!Insecure!Fem!Reader || Angst/Fluff || Word Count: 2,730

Part 1

Warnings: insecurities (reader). Bad self esteem (reader). Criticizing oneself in the mirror (reader). Black eye (jason)

Have at ‘er guys.

The first thing you did once you got back into your apartment was throw your bag on the floor. The next thing you did was slump back against the door and slowly slid your way down until you were sitting on the ground, knees to your chest, head tucked into your folded arms.

Your eyes had been burning the entire walk back. Your throat was tight and especially your lungs from how fast you had power-walked.

Now that you were out of the public eye, you let the tears finally fall after trying so hard to hold them back.

Thank the crime for Gotham’s low rent. You didn’t think you’d be able to make it to your bedroom to hide your oncoming sobs if you had been living with roommates.

You were exhausted. You felt entirely stupid, too. As if you weren’t enough for Jason. Artemis had everything. Everything you didn’t and more.

You were beginning to think he had settled for you.

You knew he could pull attractive women. Could pull damn gorgeous women. He was entirely handsome himself, even though he never saw it.

Nearly every time you two were out he would have people coming up to him. Flirting with him. Asking for his number. Even when you were right there, his arm around your shoulders or your waist. Or if he was alone because you had gone to the bathroom. That was when they came out of the woodworks the most. It’s like even they could tell you were subpar for him.

The thing is: Jason would never even look at them. No matter how long they stood there. Usually, when he had ignored them for long enough and was getting annoyed, he would pull you into a deep kiss. He wouldn’t stop until he was sure they had left.

You couldn’t even explain why you felt like this. Jason had done nothing to prove that he didn’t love you.

But if Artemis, someone Jason had very possibly loved before you, was still in his life… what chance did you have at being allowed to stay?

Another sob left your throat. You were never in Jason’s league. Why ever pretend? Especially for this long?

You had overstayed your welcome.

Your phone buzzed in your bag. A call coming through. You sniffled, as you pulled it out of your tote.

Jason’s profile was displayed across the screen. A picture you had taken of him when you had dragged him out to the park a few months ago. You were both smiling at the camera as you took a picture. You had thought he looked so handsome in it. A soft smile, kind eyes looking a little off from the camera, the sun basking him in a sweet early spring glow. You had never liked the way you looked in that photo. When you made it his contact, you had cropped yourself out.

You frowned as your phone kept ringing. You didn’t want to deal with him right now. You set the phone on the ground in front of you, face up, letting it go to voicemail.

Your phone went black again. You started feeling a little guilty. Then, seconds later, it rang again.

You didn’t pick up. Even despite the guilt that began to chew at your stomach lining.

That call only rang four times before ending again.

A minute. Then a text message.

Jason: Just tell me whether or not you made it home, baby. Please?

You stared at it for a moment.

Another text.

Jason: I’m coming by soon either way. We’re talking about this.

You frown. He sounded mad.

Your head pounded lightly. A headache from how hard you’d been crying.

Maybe he was coming here to break up with you.

You’d obviously been delusional the past few weeks. Jason was using a case as an excuse to distant himself from you. To get familiar with Artemis again.

That had to be it.

Another text.

Jason: I know you’re seeing these, love.

Screw him. Screw him and his perfect grammar. And his stupid pet names.

You picked up your phone, opening the messages. You send back a simple “Home.” Before closing your phone again, placing it on the ground.

Jason: Thank you. See you soon.

Tears burned at your eyes again, but you swallowed them back.

You pushed yourself off the floor. No point in letting him see you, huddled in a heap of despair, still in your food splattered work clothes. Making your way to your bedroom, you began to change out of your work clothes. You automatically reached for the grey t shirt hanging off the post at the end of the bed, but hesitated. You stared at it. The far too big for you, men’s t shirt that was worn around the collar and smelled so much like Jason.

Your hand hovered over it before you stepped away.

He’d probably be wanting it back after this.

You stepped towards your dresser, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

You hate it.

You can’t even see yourself as yourself anymore.

You stand there, picking yourself apart bit by bit. Rifling. Dissecting. Looking to find something good, something likeable, until you’ve tossed every part into the “discard” bin of your mind.

You can’t even do anything about it. All your tears are gone. You simply hang your head as you step into your sweatpants and slip on your t shirt.

You crawl onto your bed, not bothering to climb under the covers. Not bothering to shower.

The sun was still shining in, reminding you of how you were wasting such a beautiful day.

Your mind was working against you. Coming up with reasons for why Jason would be with you. Why he would have done everything that he had ever done with you if he didn’t love you.

The most prominent reason was that he was just taking pity on you. He had the time on his hands to do a favour for the lonely, ugly girl because he had broken up with his gorgeous amazonian warrior girlfriend. He couldn’t be giving out favours anymore now that he had her back.

You laid there on your side, arms hugging yourself. You realized you weren’t out of tears. They continued slip out of your eyes and pool to the pillow below you. The occasional sob leaving you when your mind concocted something else outrageous.

You don’t know how long you laid there for.

In the silence of your apartment, you could hear the lock of your front door click before the door swung open.

You tensed, arms hugging yourself as you laid on your side, back to the door.

You heard Jason slip off his boots, the steel toes he always wore clattering against the floor, signalling his arrival.

Padded footsteps followed, moving down the short hallway. Then the creak of your bedroom door behind you that had already been ajar.

Jason’s voice was soft as he called your name, “You’re not asleep, are ya?”

You simply glanced back at him over your shoulder, twisting. He took up the whole frame. He was dressed the same as earlier. Dark blue jeans, dark grey shirt with a faded brewery logo on it, and his leather jacket that he hadn’t bothered to take off at the door. His sunglasses were gone, showing off the fresh black eye that you hadn’t seen. He held a bouquet of wildflowers in one hand.

Who brings flowers to someone when they’re about to leave them?

You laid your head back down without another word.

More footsteps. The bed dipped behind you, Jason’s weight settling on the mattress, sitting in the crook where your knees bent.

A beat passed before he sighed, “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, doll?”

His hand reaches down to brush away the hair that was covering your face. The second his fingers brush over your cheek, you flinched back.

Jason draws his hand back, “Talk to me. I know how your mind gets, baby. What happened today?”

You stared straight ahead of you, towards the window Jason would often use to enter your apartment in the middle of night, the sunlight shining through. “Are you going to break up with me?”

Jason’s answer was quick. Honest. “No. Never.”

You should’ve felt more relaxed, but you didn’t. You just felt more stupid, “Did you love her?”

Jason paused, “Artemis?”

You nod.

Jason shifted on the bed, bringing more of his weight onto it before answering, “I thought I did. When I was with her. But… no.” Another pause. “You taught me what love was.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid. You knew Jason loved you.

You felt horrible. began to cry again, your voice cracking.

You just… you just needed to make sure, “Are you only with me because— because you pity me?”

“What?” Jason’s hands were suddenly on your shoulders, turning you onto your back. His fingers brushed your hair back and cupped your face. “Of course not!” You met his gaze for a moment through a haze of unshed tears. You’d never seen him more worried. More concerned. More… heartbroken at your words.

His eyes drift to the wet patches on your pillow, then back to your face. He takes in your red eyes and red nose. “Baby… have you been crying over this? Thinking I was going to leave you?”

You look away from him without answering. A silent “yes”.

Jason sighs lightly, “Because of Artemis?” His thumbs begin to stroke your cheeks, “She was just giving me some papers for a shipment. She owed me a favour from a long time ago.”

“How long were you with her?”

“Eight months,” he said, though there was a flit of a questioning tone at the end of it. He corrected himself, “Nine.”

“Why have you never talked about her?” You see him frown, his eyes shutting for a moment. You feel your face burn from embarrassment at all your questions.

Jason takes a breath, “That relationship… wasn’t a good one. It was my second real one, ever.” He shrugs, “It was built off of shared trauma, I guess. Once the Outlaws disbanded we didn’t really have much of a reason to stick around one another.” He pauses. “Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’d even consider it a real relationship. More of a fling.”

There’s a beat. You still don’t look at him.

“You know I love you,” he says. You bite deep into the inside of your cheek. “You know I love you… right?” His words sound so distraught at the idea of him making you feel unloved.

A small breath left your lungs. “I know.” Tears spill over as you talk, your arms still wrapped around yourself, hands squeezing the flesh of your biceps, “But that could’ve been an easy hand over. Five minutes.” You tried taking a deep breath, “Why… why make time to go and have coffee with your ex when you can’t even make time for me?”

Jason cursed quietly under his breath. Your face crumpled, but you tried for keep it together. “She wanted to.” Jason said. “Trust me. I didn’t. But I need that information.” He shuffled more onto the bed, hovering over you. “You have no idea how happy I was when I saw you walking past. You were like some angel coming from heaven. I’m serious.”

The moment replayed in your mind. Your bottom lip wobbled uncontrollably as you remembered his consistent frown every time he had looked at you.

“Then why—“ your voice hitched with a small sob. “You only smiled at her. You just started nitpicking me the second she left. Started when— when she was still there.”

Jason sighed again, his eyes shutting, “I know. I was acting like an asshole. I know. I’m sorry.” He leaned his face closer to yours, thumbs swipes away your tears. “I just get so worried about you sometimes.” He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours.

You sniffle again, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Jason mumbled against your forehead before leaning back. “I’m sorry, baby. I was already ticked off that I was wasting time with her.”

You squirmed lightly, still hugging yourself, “I’m still sorry. I know you love me. I do trust you. I just—“

Jason shook his head, “No. Don’t be sorry. I shouldn’t have had coffee with her. I should’ve been picking you up from work.” He moved his hands to gentle grasp onto your hands, “Come on. Sit up for me, yeah?”

You followed his instructions, sitting up, crossing your legs in front of you. Jason grabbed a tissue from your bedside table, handing it to you to blow your nose. You felt like asking whether the case he was working was real or not. You decided against it, realizing his black eye should be proof enough.

Jason brushed your hair back as you blew your nose, clearing your face. “Why did you think I’m with you because I pity you, love?”

You look away, shameful, “Because… because you’re the first guy to ever ask me out.” You shrug lightly, “And… and no one else was wanting to. And I just…” You sniffle again. Jason takes your old tissue and hands you a new one, his other hand on your knee, his thumb stroking the side of it gently. “I saw how pretty she is and—”

“Not as pretty as you,” he gave you a soft smile, lifting your chin up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cut you off.”

You gave no reaction.

Jason paused, “…do you not think you’re pretty?”

You try and turn your face away again, shrugging, “I’m just so far out of your league. She’s not.”

“Damn right you’re out of my league,” Jason laughed softly, grasping onto your shoulders as they fell in defeat.

Finally. You thought. He realizes. This is it. This is—

He took one hand and tilted your chin until you were looking at him again. “Love, you’re leagues above me. You hear me? I’m serious. I’m so lucky to have someone as sweet and caring as you.”

You begin to shake your head. Jason firmly yet painlessly pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, stopping you. He begins to nod your head. Up and down. Forcing you to agree with him.

He presses his thumb into your bottom lip. He pulls it down and back up over and over again, mimicking speech as if you were some puppet. He pitched up his voice and octave, “Yes, Jason! I’m the most gorgeous girl you’ve ever seen!”

You can’t help it. A smile tugs at your lips. You pull his hand away and hold it with both of your own as you place a kiss to it.

Jason grins, tilting his face down to yours, “There she is. There’s my girl.”

You shake your head at him, “I’m sorry for thinking you were going to leave me for her…”

Jason smiles softly, “No more apologies. I know how your mind is.” He tilts his chin up and pressed another kiss to your forehead. “Evil mind.” He mutters against it, making you giggle.

You hum lightly, leaning into his touch. “What happened to your eye?”

Jason scoffed lightly, “Some thug last night. My helmet was already broken. He got a good right hook in.”

You smile up at him. You sit up straighter, pressing a feather light kiss to the edge of the bruising.

Jason hums in satisfaction, “Thank you, baby.” He smiles again, looking back at you. “What do you want to do now? You’ve got me until nine.”

You perks up, “Nine? But it's already four! Don't you have to read those papers? Don’t you have to—“

Jason smiled and shook his head, cutting you off, "Already did. I just have to intercept that shipment tonight and then you'll have me all day tomorrow, too. I’ve got nothing else but time to spend with my girl.”

Your smile grows a little wider, "Really?"

Jason nods, "I promise."

You play with his fingers as you think it over. Rubbing a thumb over his knuckles, picking up each digit and curling them and straightening them again, "Can we go for a ride?"

Jason grins, "Course, love. Where's your helmet?"

AHHH!! Hope you guys enjoyed!!!!

[jscrawls]

Grave mistakes

Gotham City is full of a lot of characters, criminals, creepy clowns, man eating plants, eccentric billionaires. But all that rolled into one household?

Warning: contains mentions of violence, death, harmful tendencies, general spooky stuff, it's an Addams reader they're gonna be freaky,

Part 2: late night runs

🔹🔹🔹

You've been so busy that you haven't gone shopping for groceries since the move, of course two am is the perfect time to go out and maybe get to know your new home more intimately while you're at it. So you dress in your darkest and head out the door to start up your hearse.

Gothams quite gloomy and unwelcoming looking, looming architecture standing over everyone like unpleasant giants watching the ants crawl, gargoyle statues and symbols of darkness decorate every corner, You love it. People avoid you like the bubonic plague as you stroll through the night market, tote bag on your arm.

“Excuse me, my dear fellow, what's the price on these?” You gesture at the wilted vegetables in baskets under a faded gray canopy booth, the middle aged man looks up from his iPod and gives you a scrutinizing look before Glancing down at the assorted goods, before hauling himself out of his lawn chair with a huff to point at each basket as he speaks.

“thirty percent off everything after ten o'clock, root veggies are two fifty per pound, lettuce and cabbage are two fifty per head, garlic, onion and chives are four dollars per bag, broccoli and peppers are three for three. And before you ask, no I didn't water these out of the harbor and no I didn't steal them. All sales are final so don't try to bring me no rotten shit in a week asking for refunds.”

He straightens up and rests his hand on his hip as he looks you up and down critically, his free hand coming up to scratch at his salt and pepper scruff.

You nod appreciably as you point at the goods you want. “Wonderful, can I have a head of cabbage, five pounds of potatoes, two pounds of carrots, and a bag of onions and one of garlic?”

The man grunts and nods before he starts bagging the goods in paper bags, which he then cushions by stuffing newspaper into the bags to prevent bruising.

“It's gonna run ya twenty five and fifty cents, money first before you get the shit. No running off with my hard work.” The man's voice is gruff as he puts his hands over the bags, paranoid you'll grab and run.

You nod with a smile as you fish your wallet out of your pocket and pull a hundred out, setting it on his hand and then you start to look through the bags.

The man looks at the bill with a raised eyebrow before grabbing a flashlight to shine at the bill to check if it's legit, he hums lowly before looking back up at you. “You need me to break this or something?” He sighs as he starts to open up a metal tin under his booth as he checks if he has enough to break change.

You blink in surprise at the question, you glance down at his hunched over figure with a confused tilt to your head. “No, no my dear friend keep the bill I am perfectly able to break things myself.” You grab your paper bags and set them in your tote before happily strolling back out into the crowds of the night market, not noticing the man gaping after you.

You stop at a few more stands as you go, grabbing a few more essentials and non essentials before you decide your totes getting heavy so you start towards your hearse. Someone bumps shoulders with you as you're walking and then whirls around with an angry look.

“Watch it, spooky.” The person, a young man with dyed blonde hair and a neck tattoo spits between your shoes after all but barking like a dog at you.

“Apologies my friend, I did not watch your path for you when you walked into me.” You smile at him, the man's frown deepens and he takes a step back.

“Punk ass, watch your mouth before someone else watches it for you.” he looks you up and down like he's looking for something, then he scoffs and turns to stalk off, cussing at you under his breath the whole time.

you turn and happily continue on your way after that, making it approximately twelve steps before you’re grabbed by the upper arm and yanked into an alleyway.

two youngish guys brandish knives at you after they shove you into a brick wall, knocking your tote off your arm and dropping it. “run your pockets or we’ll stick you!” the closer one snarls, the other one quickly nudges him roughly with his elbow. “dude, shh! not so loud moron!”

the closer one rolls his eyes before holding his pocket knife up higher. “whatever, you get the idea emo. cough up the green before you end up in a hospital.”

you look between the two men with a smile growing on your face, this city is so exiting! “a hospital? couldn’t you aim for higher aspirations my friends?” the closer man’s lip curls, his grip on his blade tightening. “don’t start with that ‘you could do more with your life’ shit now, you’re not getting out of this with some pinterest quotes.”

“oh you misunderstand, i’m asking you to try for a morgue instead of a hospital. i’ll give you money of course, but i’d like to see some real effort here boys!” at your words the two of them exchange glances, shifting uncomfortably on the balls of their feet.

after a moment of silence the further away one of the two speaks up, “is this a game to you? some weird tactic to make us leave you alone? just give us something so we can all go home for gods sake.”

you pull your wallet out and start pulling money out. “ will you accept gold coins?” they share another look, the closer one leans over and roughly snatches the coins out of your palm. ‘who the fuck carries-you know what nevermind, lets go matt.” they both turn to dart further down the alleyway, but your confused voice stops them. “wait! you didn’t even give me a superficial wound! no jagged cuts that bleed and fester, not even a thrashing?” dissapointment colors your tone as you give them confused looks.

‘….are you like, alright?” before you can respond to the inquiry a dark figure suddenly lands in front of you, getting between you and the two robbers.

‘oh shi-!” the startled shriek is cut off by a swift kick to the sternum, the lithe figure ducks out of the way of the panicked knife swing the one named matt throws at them. the caped figure grabs his wrist and twists his arm until he drops the blade, they then smack him in the back of the neck, somehow knocking him out.

you clap exitedly from where you stand, cheering like this is a play. “good show! that was simply wonderful! me next!” you step closer, exited at the prospect of an attack. to your disappointment they silently grab the coins out of the hand of your would-be mugger and wordlessly hand them to you, no physical harm for you tonight it seems.

the figure is wearing black on black, a stitched up mask completely covers their face while some kind of ears decorates the top, their white lenses stare at you like the eyes of a doll, the yellow bat on their chest being the only splash of color on them. with a sigh you take back your money and start gathering your fallen bags, the quiet figure squats down to help you gather your things while they keep staring at you.

‘….hurt?” eventually they speak, their head tilting up and down as they carefully study your dejected figure.

“unfortunately no, i remain *miserably* unharmed.” the figure tilts their head at that, pausing with a potato in hand. “….you want to hurt?”

“of course, i think there’s no greater thrill in life besides death!” you stand up with the broken tote in hand, trying to balance the groceries in it despite the large split running down the side. the petite figure glances back at the two men on the ground before glancing back at you, again studying your form in silence.

“….okay.” they just nod slightly at that, unsure how to take your answer.

“right, well if i’m to remain physically well then i suppose i’ll head home, thank you for the good show my friend. i like the whole running about in black and brutally attacking people thing, very deranged.” you smile at them and turn to leave, they silently approach you and grab your wrist, when you turn to look at them they tuck a card in your hand before turning away and jumping up to grab a fire escape and climb out of the alleyway.

the card has a little bat on the back, cute. the other side is a help hotline.

🔹🔹🔹

M.list | prev | next

A/n: realistically I know Gotham wouldn't have night markets but just pretend with me y'all 🥹

[achromatophoric]

Kent: B, I’m telling you, I think I’m finally growing on her.

Enid: 😒

Bianca: Kent, the only things that grow on Addams are animosity, annoyance, and resentment.

Kent: I’m being serious! She just complimented me in Creative Writing. C’mon Enid, back me up!

Enid: 😶

Bianca: What exactly did she say?

Kent: Check it. She said I have… *dramatic pause* …a knight’s soul.

Bianca: Knight’s soul? What’s that even mean?

Kent: I figure it’s Addams for chivalrous and shit.

Bianca: *obviously unconvinced* Uh huh.

Kent: Anyways, I gotta jet. This knight’s got more beat poetry to weave.

Bianca: *watches Kent leave, then turns to the oddly silent Enid*

Enid: 😗

Bianca: You’re in their class. What did your girl actually say?

Enid: Um. She said, and I quote—

Enid: *flattens her voice* When I am exposed to your work, a certain medieval concept comes to mind…

Enid: Night soil.

Bianca: 🤨

Bianca: Isn’t that just human…

Enid: Yeah.

Bianca: So she basically called Kent’s poetry shit?

Enid: *winces and nods*

Bianca: I guess that’s an improvement. At least no one got sta—

Freshly-bandaged Xavier: *wanders by*

Bianca: 😒

Bianca: Lemme guess. He criticized Addams’ writing again?

Enid: Yup! Totes. Exactly like last time.

– Earlier in Creative Writing. –

Wednesday: 😑

Xavier: Look, Enid. You can write all the sapphic crap you want. I’m just saying that fan fiction isn’t all that creative.

Enid: *unsheathes claws* Oh yeah? I’ll show YOU creative!

Xavier: OH SHI—

Wednesday: 😐

Wednesday: 🙂

[preposterousjams]

My opinion on the Latino Jason Todd headcanon

While I do understand ppl's criticism of the latino Jason todd headcanon and how its kind of racist to make the kid with parents with drug problems as the latino one, to me its more of a reclamation BECAUSE of DC's racism.

Read any 80s/90s batman issue that covers gang violence and drugs, most if not ALL of the criminals are poc; black people and latinos visibly make up the majority in the poorer neighbourhoods in Gotham. Aside from the caricaturist way they r drawn/speak, its not THAT weird cause its a reflection of irl big cities where immigrants and marginalised ppl are often forced to live in such situations, (like most of my dominican family lives in the bronx... it aint racist to say dominicans tend to flock there), BUT...the weird part is when the second a sympathetic character comes from that area, he's white and has a name thats "too fancy for the streets".

Obviously, Jason was created to look like the old robin, so I can't say that the whole "diamond in the rough" situation was purposely a tad bit racist, but its still a lil weird (especially with bruce's comment).

If Jason were a part of the overwhelming demographic in his area, the good-kid-in-a-bad-area trope has less connotations. DC is currently trying to fix this trope is by making crime alley whiter, which isn't bad but they could've just yk... humanised the non-white residents.

I also feel like the messed up way Jason was treated post-death is what makes him so relatable to latino readers. His tragic story of dying while trying to save his only living relative is turned into a lesson for newer vigilantes. Jason's particular disdain for abusers on a few occasions was twisted (by both writers and characters) into him always being dumb, reckless, cocky, angry and disobedient, always violent, never having been able to get over his upbringing. None of those things were true (he was a normal level of reckless and cocky like every other robin, not more), but its an easier narrative to digest compared to how it was in reality; a kid who worked so hard and loved even harder, died to save a woman who couldn't care less about his existence. He was an emotional AND smart kid who wanted so bad to help others get better but was remembered as too emotional (in a bad way).

THIS is the reality for many latino diasporas in day to day life; Theres no question that Latino culture is passionate and emotive, but people from other cultures assume that it is followed by instead of logical. both can coexist. emotion does not mean u have no logic. Emotions can be irrational but they aren't inherently that way, and I wouldn't say that the moments where Jason lashed out as a teenager were irrational (in og runs, not rewrites post red hood), they were mostly done to protect someone (going crazy on abusers, disobeying batman to save sheila, that time he got into a fight at school to defend his friend).

A lot of euro-centric culture is OBSESSED with the idea that rationality is separate from feelings and emotions, but not crying at a funeral doesn't mean you're better than those who do. Emotions are the basis of human ethics and morals, they define the way we interact as a collective and ignoring them does not mean they are not there. Theres no winner to a contest of who can feel the less. And the way Jason's emotions are treated (pre-rh, hes definitely unhinged afterwards lol) is so in line with how white culture tends to punish those who aren't ashamed to feel.

I TOTES UNDERSTAND that some ppl who headcanon Jason as latino are doing it for the complete opposite of reasons, like "oh here some angry emotional guy with druggie parents, haha must be latino". Its weird. I dont like it. And its only brought up so he can swear in spanish in some rlly bad text post where his emotions are getting out. But to me there's so much potential for metanarrative and commentary on how latinos are treated in media that can be exemplified through the way his character is treated. Being latino would add SO MUCH DEPTH to his character and his dynamic with the others.

[lizzybeeee]

THE ENTIRE DRAGON AGE AMA IS A DUMPSTER FIRE

They avoided all the high-rated questions with genuine criticism (not blind hate!) and went for questions that were safer and allowed them more leeway. After that awful IGN article and that treatment of Davrin...God, just put it down. I have no faith that BioWare will be able to continue Dragon Age or Mass Effect with the respect it deserves.

Edit - They had an opportunity for genuine discussion with fans who were concerned/unhappy with the way Veilguard was -> people unhappy with the story, the marketing, the lack of 'RP' options in an RPG, etc... Instead they just doubled-down even more, avoiding those critical questions, with no real acknowledgement that fans have very reasonable problems with this game.

Some Highlights & My Initial Ramblings Below:

The Executors

"They attempt to manipulate events in the most subtle way they can manage."

So, very clear that they're not simply observers of what is happening in Thedas: they're manipulators...

"Magical Illuminati Confirmed! Lizard People Did 9:30 Dragon!!!!"

All that complexity of character -> his hatred of Orlais, his experience as a general, his relationship with Cailain, and the influence of Howe...all diminished. Any influence from a shadow cabal is too much influence - all the humanity of Loghain's choices/consequences...God, what a waste.

Not to mention what this does to other events/characters in the series -> they imply they've been intervening as far back as the magisters breaking into the golden city. I do not find this compelling! At all!

2. Solas and the Executors

Oh my god, he sounds like such a fucking Mary-Sue I'm so sick of Solas at this point -> "Actually, I know more about the Executors than anyone alive - not even the rest of the Gods know as much as me."

("I'm also, like, an Ancient Elven God, I'm responsible for the Blight and the Veil, and I kind of locked the Gods away cause they were evil - but, like, I'm really sad about it. Also the Herald of Andraste thinks I'm cute <3")

<- Previous comments: massive oversimplification, obviously

But I miss the days when not everything was about Solas. It removes so much interest and wonder in this world when the fucking egg is behind it all. I loved him as a character in DAI and now I just feel this bone deep tiredness when I see his stupid face.

Don't you dare threaten to bring Gareth David-Lloyd back -> keep him away from this mess!

3. The Fate of the Rest of the Evanuris

Yay. I'm so looking forwards to "The Return of the Elves: Electric Boogaloo 2" - it was done so well the first time!

"It was the elves all along!"

The only character with any potential to be interesting is Andruil*, but how they handled all this lore was done so shallowly and so poorly that I find it hard to give a damn anymore. Not to mention that the game literally mentions Ghilan'nain mourning Andruil - so is this a retcon/redirection/or have you confirmed that one of the most interesting members of the Evanuris' is dead?

*interesting in that she's established in lore to potentially have a tonne of really cool things attached to her (the void armour, the great weapon she has etc...). The rest of the evanuris are nowhere near as well established as she is.

4. Southern Thedas, Sociopolitical Issues, and Future Games

NOW YOU WANT TO INCORPORATE GEO-POLITCAL EXPLORATION?? You avoided any meaningful discussion like the plague in DATV but now you're acknowledging it?? OkaY. okAy.

They couldn't even give us the long-term ramifications of the mage/templar war how the hell am I supposed to believe that they will be able to pull off 'elven gods are real' etc...? For a game series that totes : your choices matter -> they have not proven that they have been able to show that in a meaningful way. They literally cleaned the slate with this game to avoid doing that.

So, what, does that mean that the Veil is never going to come down now? Or are you going to have the entirety of Thedas build themselves up again just to have the Veil fall and send things into chaos once more?

What a fatalistic, miserable outcome for Thedas -> why the fuck would anyone bother to live in Thedas if you're going to keep throwing meteorites at them? By all means, change/conflict has to happen for the series to move forwards...but this is just so miserable at this point.

(The Elder Scrolls, at least, gives people room to breathe between crisis' or sets them up in different areas of the world! Bethesda treats past installments/your decisions with greater respect than DATV does.)

Even, then, if the Veil remains up, that means that the spirits are just trapped in the Fade being miserable for the rest of existence. The entire series has been humanizing spirits, from Justice to Cole, and now they're just throwing in the towel? I guess they can stay in the fade now! Problem solved!

What do you mean the Evanuris are not a threat anymore? IN A PREVIOUS QUESTION YOU LITERALLY SAID SOME ARE STILL POTENTIALLY KICKING AROUND THE BLACK CITY?

Weakened, sure, but Solas was 'weak' in DAI. You're giving yourself an out if you decide to go back to the elves again. Please do, I'd love more content on how the elves alone fuck everything up!

5. More Southern Thedas, the Chantry, and Tevinter

Thanks for the confirmation that things in the South are so fucked up that they have to work alongside the 'Slave Capital' of the known world to rebuild!

Slavery was one of the biggest things that caused a rift between the north/south chantry system -> one of the reasons why there were exalted marches -> a uniting belief in the south is that slavery is fucked. They didn't address slavery in DATV - what hopes are there that they will do so effectively in a future game?

Don't tell me that Dorian fixes everything off screen either -> either he solves slavery off-screen or the south is being forced to work the slaver-capitol because their land is nuked and they have no ground to stand on.

I'm so thrilled.

6. Solas and the Idol / The Blight

I will never get over Solas fucking curing the Blight off-screen and no one asking questions/giving a shit. Hello?? The Hero of Ferelden would like a word with you???

So the Blight is calcified in Minrathous, at least, but everywhere further away is still fucked! Once more, the South is doomed to suffer from the long-term effects that regular blights have -> not to mention the red lyrium (which still exists according to the AMA) across the south.

I don't care; it's lame. It's a lame way to conclude the blight and I hate it. This game did not earn 'cure the blight from thedas' at all. You could have had us learn how to soothe a titan and see how that can diminish the blight but you did it this way.

Another 'magical ritual' because Solas has such a good track record with them lmao.

7. The Agents of Fen'Harel / The War with the Qun / The Crows

Turned him against the idea of being a leader???!!

Fen'harel's Call to the Elven People After the events at the Winter Palace, elves left the Inquisition under mysterious circumstances, as did elven servants across Thedas. None could say where they went, but those who believed the Inquisitor's story about Fen'Harel wondered just how large the Dread Wolf's forces were... and what the ancient elven rebel had planned. This is from the Trespasser Epilogue, Epler!

Your concept art for Joplin literally had him as a leader of a faction of elves. Just be honest that it's a retcon and you changed course - don't try to save face with this reasoning.

About the Antaam: "We needed some big mindless bad guys to fight and so we did this because we didn't want to address the Qunari War/Invasion we set up in Trespasser".

You had to canonize Sten as being alive and Arishok in order for this reasoning to work -> you didn't even come up with an alternative Arishok to take Sten's place.

Yeah, the exchange that set up the Crows we see in the game as "idealists" did not make the game. I can confirm that!

I'm sorry, "Caterina kept Illario in check?" as in, 'kept him an idealist and not the usual Crow'? The woman that beat him with a cane and starved him and his cousin to train them as Crows. Fuck off.

lmao -> tell me you're coming up with this on the spot without telling me that you're coming up with this on the spot.

8. World State Discrepancies - Isabela

Outright ignores the very real criticism about the marketing from this game and World States.

"there are absolutely places where we unintentionally suggested there was a hard canon (...that Isabela is always assumed to have joined Hawke's party.)"

Unintentional?

Excuse me, you have her talk about Merrill and the Kirkwall Crew as family - that was not unintentional in the slightest. Not to mention Sten, Blackwall, Sera, and Cole are canonized as being part of your world state no matter what.

You had a story you wanted to tell - one that only fit a few world states - and you went ahead with it and disregarded those choices. Don't try and lie about this all being a big misunderstanding.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Edit - They could have taken the opportunity to address the very reasonable criticisms that people had with this game but they cherry-picked questions and avoided/minimized anything remotely critical.

They could have provided us some insight into the game development time but each time they approached the topic they settled for "we're happy with what we delivered and it was well optimized."

They had an opportunity to acknowledge that people were bothered by the handling of the lore/stories (to potentially mention they could course-correct/ rethink their plans) but instead they doubled down on everything that they did and even 'justified' some decisions. They doubled down on the Executors, Solas's changing motivations, the destruction of Southern Thedas, and the elves/Solas being at the heart of everything etc...

This AMA basically confirmed that the only reason they did what they did to the south was for a reset -> It's not a compelling or fulfilling narrative to have everything we've done reset back to ground zero off-screen. BioWare games differentiate themselves from other RPG's by their import system from previous games - it was compelling and exciting! With DATV they set the expectation that BioWare can outright throw out entire games worth of choices/build up, not solely retcon them.

Justifying your choice to water down the lore/world of your story by saying you'll address it in the 'next game' does not instill me with confidence, BioWare! It doesn't explain that lack of it in this game either!

They avoided every question that, rightfully so, pointed out the misleading comments made by devs in the pre-order period of the game:

the fact that there were only 3 imported choices from previous games was leaked by a reviewer -> BioWare was vague from the start about choices

that this game was the most 'romantic' in the series

that world states/ headcanons wouldn't be disrespected

that there are 'lore' reasons for bad darkspawn design

that there are lasting, impactful choices/consequences to be made in this game

that the lore/world was not watered or toned down

that companions are deep and you can disagree with them etc...

BioWare's behavior towards their customers in the lead up period to this games release was downright scummy. I absolutely felt misled after playing the game for myself and recalling what I read in interviews put out. While EA is undoubtedly poison, you can't hold them solely accountable for this.

I feel for the individual developers who worked on this in what was undoubtedly a toxic environment from EA - but I feel that it's pretty clear that BioWare itself has a lot of problems within and in their leadership/executives. Working for EA does not give them an excuse to mislead their customers.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I already had a very grim outlook on the franchise from the end of DATV but this literally look my interest out the back and sent it to God. What a disaster.

[fratttymatty]

Dumbgeons And DraGones

(all characters are 18+)

It was a rainy Saturday night, and the basement of Timothy Baxter’s house was alive with the sound of rolling dice, furious page-flipping, and exaggerated villainous laughter. Gathered around the ancient, coffee-stained table were five best friends: Timothy, Milo, Julian, Oliver, and Ezra. They were what everyone at Dalton High would call “the nerd crew”—gay, liberal, academically inclined, and utterly devoted to their twice-weekly Dungeons and Dragons sessions.

“We’ve nearly got it!” Julian declared, adjusting his glasses. “One more critical hit and the Dark Sorcerer is toast!”

“Let me cast Fireball,” Milo said eagerly.

“No, no, let me finish him off with Eldritch Blast,” Ezra protested.

While the boys argued strategy, three girls stood outside the basement window, peering in and giggling wildly. Cassie Winters, the queen bee of Dalton High, flipped her bleach-blonde hair over her shoulder and nudged her best friends, Lexi Carter and Tiffany Reynolds.

“OMG, you guys, they’re, like, so into this nerd game,” Cassie whispered.

“Totes embarrassing,” Lexi added, chewing gum with a dramatic snap.

“I know, right?” Tiffany said, pulling her hot-pink phone out to record. “Like, what even is Dungeons and Dragons?”

Cassie suddenly had an idea—one that would be, in her words, “so iconic.” She reached into her designer handbag and pulled out a small vial of pink liquid. Earlier that week, she had visited the town’s weird little crystal shop for “vibes,” and the shopkeeper had handed her the vial, calling it a “spell of transformation.” Cassie had no idea if it actually worked, but she loved the idea of using it for chaos.

“Watch this,” Cassie whispered, unscrewing the vial. “Let’s, like, make them cool or something.”

“What do you mean?” Tiffany asked.

“Just trust me,” Cassie said, pouring the liquid through the open window. It landed on the game board, shimmering as if alive, before seeping into the dice, figurines, and character sheets.

Inside the basement, the boys didn’t notice the strange glow overtaking their game.

“Final roll!” Timothy said, gripping the d20 tightly. He threw it, and it landed on a perfect 20.

“Yes! We did it!” Ezra cheered.

But before they could celebrate, the room started spinning. The game board erupted in pink light, and an intense heat filled the air.

“What the hell?” Milo shouted.

“Is this part of the game?” Julian asked, panicked.

The light engulfed them completely, and they blacked out.

When the boys woke up, everything felt... different. Timothy was the first to notice. He looked down at his hands—gone were his pale, wiry arms. Instead, he had tan, muscular forearms. He touched his face, which felt unfamiliar and... square-jawed?

“What’s going on?” he said, his voice deeper and smoother.

The others stirred, groaning and stretching. Milo’s once-curly hair was now a short, perfectly styled fade. Julian’s gangly frame was replaced by broad shoulders and washboard abs. Ezra’s glasses were gone—he didn’t need them anymore—and his delicate features had hardened into the rugged visage of a football player. And Oliver...

“Dude, I feel amazing,” Oliver said, flexing his new biceps.

They looked at each other, confusion giving way to excitement. Their nerdy clothes had been replaced by Dalton High varsity jackets, ripped jeans, and stylish sneakers. Their mannerisms shifted as well. Gone were the nervous fidgeting and rapid talking. Instead, they carried themselves with an effortless confidence.

“Bro,” Milo said, grinning. “This is sick.”

“Totally,” Timothy agreed. “Wait, Tim’s kinda lame. Call me Ethan now.”

“Ethan? That’s dope. I’ll be Matt,” Julian said, smirking.

Ezra, still examining his reflection in the basement’s dusty mirror, turned back to the group. “Yeah, and I’m Jake now.”

Milo and Oliver exchanged glances.

“Milo sounds like a nerd name,” Milo said. “Call me Ryan.”

“Oliver’s boring,” Oliver said with a laugh. “I’m Chase now.”

As they adjusted to their new personas, the basement door swung open. Cassie, Lexi, and Tiffany stepped inside, jaws dropping.

“OMG, it worked!” Cassie squealed.

“Whoa,” Tiffany said, staring at Ethan. “You’re, like, so hot now.”

“Thanks, babe,” Ethan said, flashing a dazzling smile.

Cassie wasted no time wrapping her arms around Matt. “You’re, like, coming to my party next weekend, right?”

“Obviously,” Matt said, already feeling like he belonged in her world.

By the end of the night, Cassie was dating Matt, Lexi had claimed Ryan, and Tiffany was all over Jake. Chase and Ethan, meanwhile, found themselves texting two other popular girls—Hailey and Brooke—about meeting up at the next football game.

As the weeks went on, the boys fully embraced their new lives. Their love for fantasy movies and indie music was replaced by action blockbusters and pop hits. Instead of discussing politics and social issues, they talked about sports and protein shakes.

The transformation was permanent, but none of them cared. They were no longer the nerdy outcasts—they were the kings of Dalton High, and life as jocks was totally awesome.

It was Friday afternoon, and the boys—Ethan, Matt, Jake, Ryan, and Chase—were lounging on the bleachers overlooking Dalton High’s football field. Cassie, Lexi, and Tiffany were draped across their shoulders and laps, laughing at every joke and sipping on iced coffees. Hailey and Brooke, who were now dating Chase and Ethan respectively, sat nearby, painting their nails and occasionally chiming in.

“Yo, so check this out,” Jake said, scrolling through his phone. “Apparently, the school board’s talking about letting the GSA put up some posters about, like, ‘inclusivity’ or whatever. Can you believe that?”

“Pfft,” Ryan scoffed, tossing a football in the air. “Man, that’s so stupid. Why do they need a whole club to tell people, ‘Hey, we’re gay’? Like, we get it. Nobody cares.”

“Exactly,” Ethan said, nodding as he draped an arm around Brooke. “It’s, like, do they think being gay makes them special or something? Just stop shoving it in everyone’s faces.”

“Right?” Matt chimed in, shaking his head. “It’s not like anyone’s out here making a ‘straight club.’ If they’re so ‘equal,’ why do they need their own group?”

Cassie giggled, flipping her hair. “You guys are so smart. Like, I don’t get why the school even lets them, like, exist. It’s so awkward.”

“And don’t even get me started on those girls from debate club,” Chase said, rolling his eyes. “They’re always whining about the patriarchy or whatever. Like, maybe if they weren’t such b****es, they’d actually have boyfriends.”

That got a laugh from the entire group, the boys high-fiving each other while their girlfriends giggled in approval.

Jake leaned back, smirking. “Yeah, they’re probably just bitter because no guy would touch them with a ten-foot pole. Girls are supposed to, like, be chill and hot, not try to act smarter than guys. It’s just basic facts.”

“Exactly,” Matt added, grinning. “That’s why you girls are the best.” He kissed Cassie on the cheek, and she squealed with delight.

The group laughed again, the boys reveling in their new personas. None of them missed their old lives—books, debates, and progressive causes were all a distant memory. Life was simpler now, and for Ethan, Matt, Jake, Ryan, and Chase, it was perfect.

(from left to right, row 2 to row 1: Chase, Tiffany, Cassie, Lexi, Ryan, Jake, Ethan, Matt)

[lordprettyflackotara]

world class sinner || jeff the killer & jane the killer

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+ tw: threesome, ABSOLUTELY NO JANE X JEFF, kidnapping, face fucking, jeff may or may not break your nose?

Do you ever get that feeling of being watched?

The way the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and paranoia demands you to look over your shoulder?

You clutched your tote bag, shoving it over your shoulder as you trudged down your neighborhood. You cursed your roommates for taking the driveway, forcing you to park down the block. You shivered from the cool autumn air, the sun not having risen yet. Dull yellow street lights provided just enough lighting for you to see where you were going as you trudged to your car. You made a mental note to scold your roommates as you stepped over ants feasting on a dead beetle. You shuddered at the sight, avoiding thinking about it as your car was finally in sight. It was then you felt goosebumps rise across your skin, your instincts telling you to look over your shoulder. You didn’t see anything when you did so, attempting to shake off the paranoia as you approached your car. You unlocked it with your key fob, the car purring to life.

Just as your fingertips brushed against the door handle a rough pair of hands grabbed you from behind, shoving a cloth over your face. You struggled against the attackers grasp, managing to kick them in the shin.

“Fucking ow! Goddamit!”

The man’s voice was rough and cracking, your attack clearly causing some level of pain. The cloth was damp with liquid, your heart pounding as you realized it was most likely chloroform. You continued to struggle, your body falling limp in the man’s arms. He wasn’t able to hold up your weight, causing you to fall onto the rough concrete below. “Jeff what the fuck is wrong with you?!” A females voice hissed. Your vision was spotty and blurry, your breathing growing shallow. As you stared up at your attackers you were able to see they were both unreasonably pale, causing you to squint harder to see more. “You weak fuck. Really? You can’t hold her up? She’s just a girl Jeffrey,” The woman barked. Jeff rolled his eyes, rubbing his shin. “The bitch kicked me if anything she deserves to be on the goddamn ground!” He snarled. The woman pinched the bridge of her nose, before sighing, “There is absolutely no way you are this weak.”

Jeff shot her a nasty look, before straightening his back. “What are you even doing here? This was my assignment, not Jane’s criticism time!” Jeff spat. Jane crossed her arms, picking up your fallen keys that laid on the ground beside you. “That doesn’t even make sense, holy fuck you’re so stupid! Slender sent me to make sure you didn’t fuck this up!” Jane argued. She turned off your car, briefly glancing down at you before her soulless eyes widened at the sight of your consciousness. Given you were paralyzed, your heart rate slowing and eyes glazed over. Yet you were still conscious and that was a problem. “Did you even use the chloroform? Shes still conscious,” Jane questioned. Jeff shrugged, digging out the bottle he had used on the rag. “I used whatever this is,” He said mindlessly. Jane snatched the bottle, attempting to read whatever was left of the ancient label. “You took this off of EJ’s shelf and hoped for the best didn’t you?” She asked flatly. You managed to mumble out a confused sound, your vocal cords seemingly tied in knots.

“Whaaa?”

Jane smashed the bottle onto the ground in a fit of rage, before glaring up at Jeff. “You’re unbelievable. Knock her out for real this time so we can get going,” Jane barked. You grimaced at Jeff raising his shoe, before slamming it into your skull and knocking you out cold.

\/

You sat on a filthy mattress, bags growing under your eyes and your mouth dry. You lost count of how many days you had been here. The basement was dark and gloomy, vacant of anything except for the mattress you sat on for any sense of comfort. You tried to count the days by how many times you had slept, which in total was eleven. It was hard to decipher time when you had no windows and virtually no visitors. You hadn’t seen Jane or Jeff at all, your only human interaction being with a floating blonde elf to drop off meals. If anything you were bored, ever so often touching your nose to feel something. You were almost sure it was broken due to being curb stomped but you weren’t sure you wanted to find out either. The sound of jingling keys made you jump, your body weak but strong enough to stand.

The metal door opened, both pale killers emerged from the shadows of the hallway and into the basement with you. “So, funny story,” Jeff started. In the dim lighting provided by a singular light bulb hung by a questionable wire, you could make out supernatural features. Jeff, with an oddly sliced smile that you noted to be a little crooked, lacked eyelids and seemingly vitamin D. Jane’s eyes were as soulless as Jeff’s yet blackness consumed them. Other than her lack of iris’s and vitamin D she seemed seemingly normal. Oh yeah, discounting the pretty knife in her hand. “Jeffrey here kidnapped the wrong person, aka you,” Jane announced. Jeff elbowed her, trying to keep a poker face.

“Technically we both kidnapped you but yeah you’re not the person we were looking for,” Jeff quipped. You stared at them dumbfounded, your lips parted. “I’ve been locked in a basement for eleven days then because…?” You asked, your voice cracking. Jane crossed her arms, shifting her weight on her left leg. “Jeffrey decided to finally read the name of the target and it just so happens to not be you,” Jane said, pointing at your name tag. You awkwardly looked at each of them, raising your eyebrows. “So uh, can I go then…?” You asked, pointing at the door. Jane stepped in front of it, blocking the view. “Yes, but we need a little favor from you first. Just to ensure you won’t rat on us,” She said. You began to ramble about how you wouldn’t, Jeff’s rough voice cutting you off, “As you can see doll, me and Jane here don’t exactly get along.”

You blinked, waiting for him to continue. “And after some debate about what to do with you, we figured we can help each other out,” Jane continued.

“As an alternative to gutting you,” Jeff intervened, Jane harshly elbowing him in response. You stared wide eyed, your gaze falling to the knife in Jane’s hand. “We just need one final battle to settle who’s better,” Jane concluded. For two people who despised each other you really thought they contrasted each other quite well. “Okay… so you want me to be the referee?” You questioned slowly. They shared a similar look, the expression one you hadn’t seen before. “Jesus Jane, just cut to the fucking case. We want to fuck you. Whoever fucks you better or whatever wins,” Jeff huffed. You stared wide eyed and shocked, nervously licking your dry lips. “If you agree we managed to get this. It’s supposed to help you relax and be able to get horny for joker over here,” Jane added, handing you a tiny bottle. You hesitantly took it, examining the clear liquid. It looked just like water, causing you to furrow your eyebrows. “If not we can always gut you,” Jeff said. Jane rolled her eyes, both of them eagerly awaiting your decision.

You unscrewed the cork. Being kidnapped and forced to have sex with your kidnapper was just a drop in the bucket. What was the worst that could happen? You downed the entire vial, forcing yourself to finish it without gagging. The taste was atrocious, causing you to dramatically stick your tongue out. “Gross,” You murmured, both killers approaching you. Jane approached you from behind, rubbing your shoulders. “It may take a minute or two to take effect,” She purred, brushing your hair behind your shoulders. Jeff assertively stood in front of you, grabbing your chin and tilting your head up. Logically you should’ve been terrified, sandwiched between two pale killers who looked supernatural. Maybe it was the thrill mixed in with fear, or shit, maybe it was whatever they gave you. But you found yourself feeling warm and fuzzy, craving their touch. Jeff was examining you as he tilted your face side to side. “She’s a cute one, even if she has a busted nose,” Jeff commented. He brought his thumb to your lower lip, pulling it down slowly. You could feel your cheeks turn red, Jane’s hands exploring your body.

“That’s your fault you know,” You whispered, your mouth hopelessly dry. You found your gaze falling to his lips, the pale killer chuckling. He brought his lips to yours, his kiss far more passionate than you had anticipated. It felt suffocating in the best way, teeth clashing with teeth, his large hands grabbing the mounds of your ass. “Remember to share Jeffrey,” Jane reminded him, her voice venomous. You felt her hand slither to your throat, squeezing the sides as you whined into Jeff’s mouth. “Whatever. On your knees slut,” He ordered. Your face felt flushed with heat, your tongue flattening across your bottom lip as you lowered yourself onto your knees. Jane followed you, fiddling with your pants. “Let me taste you pretty girl,” She cooed, ignoring the sight of Jeff undoing his belt. You turned your head to her, your lips meeting hers as you helped her maneuver your pants down to your ankles. She palmed your cunt through your panties, Jeff’s hand roughly grabbing your head and turning you back towards him.

“If I were you i’d focus on me doll. I’ll give you a nice reward if you do,” He cooed mockingly. You opened your mouth for him, giving him big doe eyes as you stared up at him innocently. Jeff tapped his tip against your tongue, smirking at the sight. He pushed himself into your mouth as Jane’s slender fingers played with your folds. You groaned as Jeff forcefully shoved himself down your mouth and into your throat. The vibrations you made around his cock were divine, his tip brushing against the back of your throat. “Remember this is about her. Not you,” Jane huffed, teasingly rubbing up and down your slick. You whimpered when her fingers finally made their way to your entrance. “How can you expect me to focus? Let me get my rocks off,” Jeff barked. Jane rolled her eyes, using her spare hand to grab a handful of your hair.

“Let’s speed up that process then, shall we? Dont worry baby he won’t last long,” Jane purred lovingly, before forcefully shoving your head down further on his cock. You gagged, your waterline flooding with tears as she slipped her fingers inside of your aching cunt. She curled them in just the right place, your thighs opening and pleading for more. She continued to force you to bob your head up and down on Jeff’s cock, the standing pale killer sadistically satisfied at the sight. His arch enemy using you like a sex toy to get him off was fucking euphoric for him to witnesses. Your moans were muffled by his cock, messy saliva traveling down the sides of your mouth. Jane’s fingers never slowed down, not for a moment. It was as if she wanted you both to finish quickly so she could take full control. You grabbed Jeff’s thighs for support as you felt a familiar knot tighten in your stomach. You were silenced by each thrust of Jeff’s hips, unable to warn them of your impending orgasm. Jeff was close too, as much as he hated to admit it. He bit his bottom lip, tilting his head back. “Fucking hell, so close,” He groaned.

Tears dripped down your face as you came around Jane’s fingers, your eyes screwed shut as Jane pulled you off of Jeff’s cock. You gasped for air like a fish out of water, your lungs demanding oxygen. “Hey! The fuck is your problem?” Jeff hissed. Jane took the liberty of readjusting your sore body, laying you down on the mattress. “Did you plan on fucking her with a limp dick?” She barked. The two continued to bicker as they readjusted themselves, Jane too blindsided by anger to notice your raised eyebrows. Jeff wedged himself between your thighs, as Jane slipped off her panties. She threw them at Jeff’s face, causing the killer to growl. “You fucking bitch!” He spat. Jane rolled her eyes, returning a petty comment as she hovered over your face. You licked your dry lips, admiring Jane’s slick. Unexpectedly you grabbed her waist, pushing her down onto your face. Her insult was cut off, a groan escaping her lips as you licked up her cunt. She tasted divine, Jeff’s hard shaft rubbing up and down your own folds.

“Thanks for making her shut up doll, here’s your reward,” Jeff chuckled darkly. You gasped into Jane’s cunt as he harshly shoved himself inside of you, his tip colliding with your g spot. You moaned into her cunt, before resuming sucking at her clit. “She’s quite the eager one isn’t she?” Jane purred, slipping her hand under your shirt and toying with your nipples. Jeff began to move, thrusting into you. His fingers dug harshly into your hips, promising bruises on the morning. “You sure we gotta give her back?” Jeff asked. He noticed the way your walls fluttered around his cock at the question. You gripped Jane’s thighs as she grinded her hips on your tongue, using you the way she wanted to. “We should but i’m not sure, I think she’d rather stay here with us,” Jane said, managing to hold back her sinful groan until after she was done talking. Jane brought her fingers to your clit, rubbing fast circles around the bud as Jeff fucked you. The two of them together were suffocating in the best way.

“You should feel the way she’s milking me Jane, this bitch is fucked up,” Jeff moaned. The three of you were becoming spent, Jane’s thighs trembling first as you lapped at her cunt. “Fuck, just like that, good girl,” She whimpered, cumming all over your eager tongue. Even through her euphoria she toyed with your clit, hovering over your face. Your moans were no longer muffled, your back arching off of the mattress as you came around Jeff’s cock. The pale killer quickly pulled out, decorating the outside of your cunt with his cum. Jane cringed, wiping her hands off on the mattress. The two began to bicker about him accidentally getting cum on her, your body spent and eager for sleep. They argued as they got dressed, Jeff curiously looking down at you.

“Hey what’d you give her anyways?”

“Water with a sprinkle of bleach, she’ll be fine.”

[pastrymechanic]

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘༘ florida wind + troubles

➯ y/n is at a race where she runs into a high school memory she’d like to forget. thankfully ollie comes to her rescue.

➯ very fearful to post my first little writing but i tried my darndest so enjoy or not. constructive criticism is welcome 🌷

➯ warnings: high school bullies but hey we got ollie standing up for y/n!!

the rosso corsa sundress billowed in the soft yet humid miami wind. the peace of being back in beachy paradise felt like she was almost floating on a cloud while she flowed through the familiar paddock, speaking to fans and collecting gifts for ollie.

her sunglasses were pushed up to her head as she slid friendship bracelets onto her wrist, taking photos with fans while simultaneously collecting letters and plushies for her boyfriend. after it seemed most of the fans had been noticed and all important gifts had been placed carefully in her beige tote bag she began the walk back to the ferrari motorhome, passing the jet black mercedes garage as she goes. 

she doesn’t think twice as she passes other paddock goers, walking by two girls waiting near the mercedes motorhome until a familiar italian face pops his head out waving to the girl skipping along her way through the floridan paddock. a simple wave and smile to kimi is given before she continues on until a hand grabs her freckled arm and her journey back is cut short.

a quick squeal and she jumps back, heart thumping through her chest as the sunglasses previously rested atop her head, fall to the sidewalk and she meets the eyes of who stopped her. it felt as if every single high school memory flooded back to her in a second. the insults, the rude looks, the violence for a girl she’d tried to forget.

“y/n? long time no see, finally got to a race, i see,” the girl’s arms crossed over the sky blue dress, one y/n adored with its contrast against the hateful girl’s tan skin. 

“oh, yeah. you know my boyfriend got me paddock passes,” she let out an awkward laugh, twisting the ends of her sunglasses in her hands, desperately trying get this conversation to end faster. why years later did she have to run into her old high school “friend”?

“oh? where is he?” the girl stood behind her blast from the past asked, a matching dress in moss green adorning her body as she smirked at the memory of a girl.

“oh he’s just waiting for me in uhm, ferrari,” she spoke vaguely, trying desperately not to let them in on her private life even more than she already had.

“you don’t have to lie to us, y/n. it’s okay if momma bought the tickets for you,” the girl faked a frown. while y/n let out a deep breath, currently hoping and praying anyone would come pull her away, unfortunately the small curly headed mercedes driver seemed to disappear after a quick greeting from his close friend’s girlfriend.

“listen, i just want to enjoy my day with my boyfriend,” y/n tried to brush off the conversation, gently as the people pleaser she always was and will be.

“oh shut up like you actually have a boyfriend. give it up, if i don’t have one right now then you certainly can’t,” her old friend groaned, her hands dropping down to her sides in exasperation. almost as if she genuinely didn’t believe the girl stood before her once again, but who was she kidding she most definitely didn’t believe y/n.

just as she felt as though it would never end a hand snaked around her waist and the familiar british accent spoke beside her.

“hello amore mio, i was waiting for you,” (my love) y/n could barely turn her head before ollie turned her head for her and gave her a sweet yet short peck she’d never get tired of. 

“oh uhm just got caught up,” she smiled at him, leaning on his shoulder as he looked towards the girls. after years he could read the girl before him like a book and obviously these people were a bother, he just couldn’t figure out how.

“oh? i’m oliver,” he nodded towards the two girls who seemed gobsmacked, both rushing to speak to their old celebrity crush.

“oh my gosh ollie, i love you so much. i’m an old friend of y/n,” the previously harsh girl put her best smile on her face with a hand extended, promptly ignored by ollie.

“it’s oliver,” ollie corrected and y/n couldn’t help but let a small smile through at his sternness before he whisked her away back to ferrari, her dress twirling making her feel like a less woodsy, more motor oil version of giselle from enchanted.

“do you know i love you?” y/n looked up at the ferrari driver, a genuine smile shone up to him as he smiled back down, his happiness stemming from her sunshine smile.

“and i. love. you,” ollie fit a kiss between each word as they entered his driver’s room before she pulled away with a series of giggles.

“thanks for saving me from my high school bully,” her voice barely above a whisper, as her eyes searched the briton’s face. her eyes filled with memories flashing through them, her mind only brought back to the present by ollie’s voice.

“you’re welcome love, it’s my offical duty as your lovely f1 driver boyfriend,” y/n gave a playful smack to his chest before rolling her eyes at his joking ego. with a small laugh she pulled him back into a hug so tight he thought he might loose his head to her love before any crash into a barrier. after her hold loosened ollie pulled back with pure love in his eyes before sighing in contentment at the girl before him. her gorgeous eyes staring back at him with her hair slightly tangled from the florida wind. oh how he would protect her from everyone who troubled her. anytime, anywhere.