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#because that was the show reminding us the will exists and is a thing
kaiser1ns · 10 hours
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𝗺𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗹 𝗸𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
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╹synopsis :: hope still exists even if it makes you forget for your problems just for a while.
╹content :: BLLK MANGA SPOILERS FOR KAISER BACKSTORY!
╹notes :: something quick i wrote but fell asleep before i posted it, will probably be edited tmrw morning! i love kaiser sm he deserves the world !!
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There he was again at the children's playground alone sitting on the ground, playing with the ball as he threw it at the graffiti wall making it bounce back. It was the same old story to be outside, away from his father and the smell of alcohol, even for a few hours — he just wanted the freedom and peace that every child deserved.
It was very hard, to be constantly accused and beaten for the smallest thing, because his mother that he resembles so much is no longer with his father, but instead now is a famous actress who lives in luxury and glory, and his father has become an alcoholic, an abuser — a monster.
Sighing, the boy threw the ball harder, and it went behind him, his gaze still blank, despair overpowering hope in every part of his facial features: eyes, smile, voice. He is just a kid, just a mere kid who wanted nothing but to have a normal life and family, to have a loving and caring father and to have a mother who is present in his... But sometimes dreams don't come true and we have to get used to the fact that we won't have everything we want. Lost in thought, lost in his own world without a care in the world, he didn't feel someone tap him on the shoulder until it started annoying him.
It was pure reflex to turn around and cross his hands infront of his face. Reflex that did nothing but to save him from the upcoming question, "Hey, is that ball yours?"
Huh? The young boy turned his head up, his heart skipping a beat as he saw a girl around his age holding the soccer ball in her hands. A genuine smile adorned her childish face, and just as he was tense, he relaxed a bit, though his guard remained up. "Yeah, it's mine," he replied, his voice cautious yet not unfriendly.
"Can I play with you?" the girl asked eagerly, her c/e eyes sparkling with excitement. He hesitated for a moment, unused to such normal interaction . "Um, sure, I guess," he replied, still keeping his distance.
The girl bounded over and sat down beside him, bouncing the ball in her hands. "I'm Y/N, by the way. What's your name?"
"Michael," he answered quietly, glancing at her briefly before returning his gaze to the ground. Y/N didn't seem to mind his reserved demeanor. "Cool! Do you go to school, Michael?"
Michael tensed slightly at the question, his grip on the ball tightening involuntarily. "No, I don't," he murmured, feeling a pang of sadness at the reminder of his isolation, "So do you like football?"
"Yeah, I do... Kind of," she hummed at his answer, the ball Michael bounced lightly on the ground made a noise in the quiet area they were sitting in "Do you want to see who can make more kicks? The loser has to do everything the winner wants!"
Standing up as she gave him a hand so he could get up too. It was very strange to him that such a thing was happening, suddenly everything was just so calm and fun. It was fun having to play with someone, it was fun having someone to talk to, it was fun finally experiencing his childhood.
Michael hesitated for a moment, considering the offer. He wasn't used to playing with others, let alone making bets. But there was something about this mysterious girl and her energy that made him loosen up. "Okay, deal," he finally agreed, a smile appeared on Y/N's face.
As they played, Michael found himself becoming more relaxed, the weight of his worries lifted from his shoulders. Their match was 'intense', each of them showing off their best moves and tricks. But in the end, it was Michael who emerged victorious, narrowly beating Y/N by a single point.
She gasped in awe, her eyes wide with admiration as she looked at Michael. "You are so good at this! One day you will be a worldwide super star like Noel Noa or Ronaldo!" she exclaimed, a grin spreading across her face. Michael shrugge trying to play off his accomplishment. "Eh, it wasn't that hard," he mumbled, but deep down, he couldn't help but feel a sense of validation at Y/N's praise.
As they sat together on the swings, catching their breath after the game, Michael found himself studying Y/N's face. There was something about her innocence, her pure-heartedness, that made him feel...calm. For the first time in a long while, he felt like he could just be himself, without any pretense or fear.
Before long, the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the playground. She checked her mobile phone and sighed. "I've gotta go home. But here," she said, rummaging in her bag and pulling out a small bag of candy, "your promised reward." He blinked in surprise as she handed him the candy, a warmth spreading through his chest and rosy blush appearing on his cheeks. Right, the reward he forgot about it, but either way he couldn't ask her to bail him out of troubles. "Thanks," he managed to say, watching as she waved goodbye and went on her way.
Maybe, just maybe, not everyone in this world was like his father and the drunken men around him — maybe there was hope after all and maybe angels did exists having themselves hidden among the many devils, coming to us when we least expect it.
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©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.
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ducktracy · 7 hours
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Does it ever feel pressuring (no pun intended) to work on a show with such a legacy and history as SpongeBob?
VERY much so, but in a good way, if such a thing exists! one of our mantras on our little storyboard plussing team is “pressure makes diamonds” and it is a very applicable saying
when i first started, i was TEEEEERRRIFIED! i really felt like i had no idea what i was doing, and there have been so many times where i’ve turned in a section and genuinely thought “oh my god they’re gonna fire me for this it’s so bad.” working in animation is frazzling enough! but not only are we working on a cultural mecca, with not only the kids of today to entertain, impress and inspire, but to maintain the integrity of the series and entertain/impress/inspire the kids like us who grew up with the show, we are also working with literal animation legends and animation veterans!! it’s pretty surreal to be working on the same show as someone like Bob Camp, who’s been in the industry for 40+ years… and even more surreal when he says he’s a big fan of your work 😵‍💫‼️‼️‼️‼️
THANKFULLY, i’ve made a lot of strides in curbing some of my storyboarding stage fright. it used to be really bad when i started, like genuinely panic attack inducing! the constant patience and guidance and encouragement of my peers and consistent practice from these past three years have really allowed me to grow and blossom. now, when i feel a bit claustrophobic in remembering the pure scale of what we’re doing, i weaponize it for good!!
i think of how inspired and amazed and obsessed with SpongeBob i was as a kid. how it inspired me to draw, how i remember drawing along to episodes and commercial breaks. my brother and his wife are both elementary school teachers and routinely update me about how their kids are still crazy for SB (and they both brag about me to their kids heheh). i think of all the kids watching, all the kids realizing that getting to draw these characters and interact with them and live in their world is something you indeed can do, all the kids who religiously catch each new episode like i once did… it just fills me with so much confidence and hope and love, and that motivates me to deliver and do my best and try to do what i can to help make each episode be better and more fun than the last
SpongeBob is for everyone, obviously! that’s one of the great things i love about working on it: i get just as much enjoyment watching our finished episodes as our target audience. but i do bring up the kids particularly often because, at the end of the day, that is who we are doing it for and i also just can’t help but think back to how my SpongeBob obsessed self as a kid would have had her world rocked to know i’m doing what i’m doing. i want to give those kids, who i used to be and still essentially am, the same joy and spark and all consuming inspiration i felt and still do
there are definitely some days where the gravity of what we’re doing hits harder than others! some days are a lot more difficult than others. this is an absolute dream job, i’m not just saying that, i always fantasized about maybe one day being able to work my way up to working on SpongeBob and now it’s my first animation job—but it is very easy to get overwhelmed by just how big of a legacy we’re carrying on our shoulders! how many other mega talented people work on this show! there’s a lot to juggle. but we juggle it well. there is so much love and heart and care poured into this show. we do everything we can to maintain the integrity of the characters and the show’s core, and it just makes me love what i do all the more and makes me more determined to do it
TLDR: YES! but i’m much better off for it, because it reminds me of why we’re working so hard to begin with. we all want this show to be the best it can—to maintain its core 25 years later, but still have fun doing it. i mentioned this on Twitter, but when i met Bill Fagerbakke last month he was saying how cool it is that fans who grew up with the show are now able to work on it and i couldn’t agree more. it’s the greatest honor imaginable being able to carry such a monumental torch, and i hope i’m able to keep at it for a long, long time.
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stagefoureddiediaz · 1 year
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Eddie getting trapped in a van that was being driven by a woman who had been partially raised by her moms best friend and getting stuck between a fridge and a couch and covered in a rug - escaping just before it exploded - just in time - just before the dream/ adventure exploded. Not subtle at all writers, not subtle at all
This will be living rent free in my brain forever more
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iceyrukia · 4 months
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very dumb how suggesting that women stop dating men or even just stop centering them is seen as “wanting women to stop being heterosexual” as if sexuality ceases to exist if you don’t act on it and as if it’s not something innate.
Also the way that these OSA women imply that OSA women just can’t live without men and act flabbergasted when you tell them to grey-rock men as a solution. A hopeless cause.
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capricornsicle · 1 year
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something something the villain of the season (the one about how fear can give way to extremism if you're not careful and how easy it is for many, many people to become radicalized by one person's radical hate and how genocide is a bad thing actually regardless of whether individuals of the targeted group have themselves done terrible things) being a black woman who survived an incident of indiscriminate mass murder is perhaps. not the best idea considering the themes involved
#teen wolf#tamora monroe#hollywood racism#if I could change one thing about this season it would be to cast anyone else in the role of monroe OR to not make her like that#if you want a woc who gets involved in a radical hate group yeah that can happen but not like that#it's a very tone deaf season overall which reminds me of the line from douglas in 6a where he says scott would be a good nazi youth#when a minority joins a hate group it is to double down on hating who they are because they're afraid of what it means to accept it#i.e. mixed kids being super racist because they are led to believe their non-white heritage is bad and they should try to be whiter#monroe doesn't have that. she has no connection to the supernatural. she is just afraid of the other which she refuses to understand#which would be actually interesting if monroe was a white woman who thinks she's immune to radical hate and extremism#but as a black woman who's a victim of circumstance in a random act of mass murder just for the sake of killing people#that doesn't radicalize you against where that person is from. that radicalizes you against murder.#the setup of her story is that she is essentially the survivor of a hate crime or random killing spree. which is so very relevant#that's not how it explicitly happens on the show but that is the metaphor they walked into with that one#you can't have themes where it's convenient and ignore the other implications and connotations of the rest of your work#and the implication is that they used a black woman as a primary villain (and unredeemable which is interesting bc peter exists)#as the face of the radical hate/genocide group which targets a group of mostly children simply because someone like them was bad#they're using a woc in the role of the aggressor who hates all poc because of one person from one group who did something bad#diversity win the woman of color is racist. the word of the day is 'tone deaf'#tw writers/casting department be like I don't see race and then is racist in a new and unique way
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laughingcatwrites · 6 months
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As a reminder that good exists out there, a coworker recently confessed to me that he found out his child is questioning their identity (kid's gender redacted for this post). The kid is keeping it from him, so he can't say anything to them or show that he knows, but he's doing his best to get mentally prepared and educated so that he'll be ready whenever his kid does feel comfortable enough come to him.
For context, this guy is a big, bulky middle aged dude who loves sports and typical outdoor "manly" activities. As his coworker and friend, I know he's a kind and sweet teddy bear of a person, but his kid probably views him as a stern, authoritarian figure, the way most teenagers view their parents. His family lives in a conservative area, so I'm sure between that, their dad's looks and interests, and the fact that their dad is a Figure of Authority, the kid is worried that they won't be accepted.
But you know what? When he found out about his kid, the first thing he did was reach out to his closest queer friend and ask for resources for parents of questioning children. His biggest fears are that his kid will be bullied or discriminated against and won't feel comfortable enough to be themself. His second action was to find himself a mentor in another parent who went the same situation (kid coming out in a conservative town). The other person is preparing him for some of the struggles his kid may face and the fights he may need to take on as a parent to make sure his kid is safe and treated well.
Something I want to emphasize for people focused on language as the primary method of allyship is that when we spoke, he used some outdated terms and thoughts about gender and sexuality. That does not make him bad. These were the terms and thinking used about questioning teenagers when he was growing up and he never needed to learn more current ones. But now that he does have that need, he's throwing himself in head first because that's his kid and he's darn well going to make sure that his kid feels welcomed and has a safe place to be themselves even if they never come out to him.
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bitches be getting me all hyped up drawing c!paul and future!tom standing next to one another and uploading that with a link to a fanfiction and i click and check the tags and it's just another boring-ass basic bitch-ass "ooh c!tom and c!tord fall in love during the war" stockholm syndrome-ass fanfiction
#say what you want about DS at least they get together of their own accord and also c!tord fucking dies at the end#so as far as i'm concerned it's the best fucking tomxtord fanfiction of all time#tord talks // larsson#<-yea that's how im differentiating my tag from the fuckin cartoon tord in the sys. ill call him c!tord too like a fuckin smp character too#<- also i'm still bitter about his popularity and what happened to me after i left the show#<- this also means i'm probably the most source-compliant larsson alter out there. NOT THAT THAT'S A GOOD THING. IT'S FUCKIN TERRIBLE#<- IT FUCKING SUCKS SO BAD BEING THIS TRAUMATIZED ASS NORWEGIAN MAN IN HIS THIRTIES#<- AND FUCKIN HAVING FORMED BECAUSE THE HOST WENT THROUGH HIS OWN HARASSMENT#<- AND MOSTLY FRONTING WHEN EXPERIENCING ANYTHING THAT VAGUELY REMINDS US OF EITHER MY OR HIS TRAUMA#<-I HATE MY ENTIRE EXISTENCE AND I WISH I COULD GO FUCKING DORMANT FOREVER AND LEAVE SOMEONE ELSE TO DEAL WITH THESE WRECKS WE CALL OUR BOD#OUR BODY AND OUR LIFE#<- I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT'S FRONT TRIGGERED ME TONIGHT ALL I KNOW IS I'M PANICKY AND UPSET AND UGHHHHH#FÆN FÆN FÆN#JEG HATER DET. JEG HATER ALLE DET SÅ MYE#beklager. jeg beklager.#getting a bit ranty in the tags like a fucking jackass.#>.<#also yes i'm a c!tomXc!paul shipper#mostly out of spite towards cc!tom (for doing what he did in legaacy. releasing the end and bringing my char back and shit)#and all the fucking tomXtord fangirls (and yes i mean shipping both c!tomxc!tord and also shipping cc!tomXcc!tord/the fuckin rpf shit)#but also very slightly because cute rarepair.
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inmaki · 3 months
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gojo showing off your back scratches to geto
( cont from this fic! req, visual ) .
contains: sex talk, desc of back scratches, crack, sugu is called daddy once (as a joke.. right..)
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everything was relatively peaceful in suguru's apartment. key word: relatively.
a forgettable yet appreciated sunday afternoon, not a cloud in sight despite the weather forecast predicting downpours of rain. either way, the raven-haired man insouciantly rested across his white couch, reaching the conclusion that today would be a day for self-care, relaxing, and perhaps some meditation.
there was only one thing ruining his peace.
all morning, suguru has been forced to try and ignore the stain a certain someone has left on his couch — a pair of unecessarily expensive yet dirty shoes being the culprit.
despite these attempts, every once in a while his gaze can't help but wander over at the mark — as if it'd poof out of existence if he glared hard enough.
"fuckin' asshole.." he mutters. it was a wonder his relationship with his best friend managed to stay so promising despite all their differences, yet suguru wouldn't have it any other way, even after situations like this.
right when he grumpily turns back to the tv — which was playing some crappy, low budget rom-com — his apartment door is yanked open and suguru swears he nearly jumps out of his seat.
great, was this it? was he about to get robbed, perhaps evicted? and then probably die? forced into the afterlife knowing gojo's shoe-shit was still on his new couch? no that can't—
"i fucked her!"
suguru whips his head towards the apartment door, announcement being disregarded as he nearly groans in agony. speak of the devil.
big blue eyes peak out from under circular sunglasses, one hand already raised in preparation for a dap up while his stupid, big, dirty shoe pushes the door closed behind him. gojo wears a black compression shirt with grey sweats, marching over to his friend with a ginormous grin across his cheeks.
"take your shoes off, now," suguru snaps, nodding to his friend's feet with a frown.
"yeesh... whatever y'say, daddy," the bastard never loses his smile as his hands raise in surrender, kicking them off by the door smoothly. "what's got your panties in a twist?"
geto pinches his nose bridge. "don't call me that," as he continues the scolding, he points to the living room with his free hand. "you got a mystery stain on my couch, satoru. do you know how many youtube videos i watched trying to get this shit off?"
unphased, gojo takes a look at the strangely colored blob against the armrest's leather material and shrugs. "my bad. did you try febreeze?"
"what— no? dude, febreeze is for.." when suguru looks back up to sourly meet his gaze, he could immediately tell the white-haired man was already drifting back into la-la-land, words going in one ear and out the other. "..nevermind. why're you here?"
at the reminder, satoru seemingly brightens, head shooting back up as if he was just told he'd won the lottery.
"oh god, don't make that stupid face—" he pauses. "the fuck are you doing?" suguru might as well say goodbye to his self-care day, because now gojo was stripping in the middle of his living room, shirt thrown haphazardly onto the still-very-much-stained couch.
"just look!" suguru squints as his friend swivels around to face the wall, pushing his bangs away to get a better view of the— oh shit.
it takes the raven-haired man a second to process what he's seeing before shuffling forward, closely examining the achingly red, bulging scratch marks displayed sexily across the latter's back and shoulders. "no way.."
suguru knows the strongest sorcerer well enough to notice how he purposely didn't use reversed cursed technique on these scratches, just so it'd be obvious to anyone that caught a glimpse of what exactly occured. to his further dismay, he can already picture a smug and sweaty gojo walking around their local gym like this, proud simper on his pretty lips as he easily raises a pair of weights in his veiny hands.
a hiss escapes geto's mouth as he runs his finger down a particularly agitated one, knowing exactly how painful they could be after experiencing many hook-ups of his own. even so, satoru only licks his lips, neck craning to the side so he can pride himself in his friend's gobsmacked expression.
"damn, these are deep. you actually hit it?" suguru confirms, raising a celebratory hand.
turning back around, satoru daps him up, a massive smirk now on both their faces. "hell yeah, it was amazing."
it was impossible to predict what gojo would do next after barging through his front door — especially considering how many times he's done so — but this has to be the last thing suguru ever expected.
not that he was complaining — in fact, all of geto's temper and need for relaxation seemingly flew out the window, the feeling of proudness for his best friend overthrowing anything else.
and even if he hated to admit it, the way gojo was so eager to come over and announce his virginity loss to him was more than a little endearing, and dare he say cute.
"that's great, man. congrats." suguru leads him into the kitchen — still shamelessly shirtless — to grab them both a can of beer in celebration. while the white-haired man usually didn't get involved with any form of alcohol, this occasion was most definitely exception-worthy. "you made y/n cum too, right?"
an offended glare is shot his way. "duh, two times."
"huh. surprised you could last."
as suguru pours their drinks into two fragile cups, gojo exhales, not bothered in the slightest by his jab. "dude, same.." he admits dreamily. "she was so fuckin' tight and warm.. and oh— fuck, her moans? heavenly.. 'can't believe i didn't bust after the first minute.."
geto gulps, trying his best to ignore the mental image his brain was producing from his dirty words. you can't blame him — both of you were smoking hot, and he was a simple man.
even now, he could already imagine what you both looked like; panting and moaning, skin-slapping so loud that it echoed through the whole room, how blissed out you'd look as gojo's cock split you in t—
satoru's playful sigh cuts through the tensing air. "who knows sugs, maybe you'll have another kind of stain to worry about next time we're over~"
he's never snapped out of a daydream so quickly. "don't even joke about that."
over the next hour, the two men sat manspread on the stained couch, taking leisure sips while recalling satoru's final moments as a virgin — suguru giving out his secret tips and tricks along the way.
maybe sometime, suguru could offer some.. hands-on learning instead.
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mlist! <- sugu.. how could u think abt ur bestie and his gf like that... tsk tsk tsk (if u enjoyed reblogs/comments r appreciated heheh)
© inmaki on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.
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Hi- er, this is my first-ever writer's strike, how does one not cross a picket line in this context? I know how not to do it with things like Amazon and IRL strikes, but how does it apply to media/streaming?
Hi, this is a great question, because it allows me to write about the difference between honoring a picket line and a boycott. (This is reminding me of the labor history podcast project that's lain fallow in my drafts folder for some time now...) In its simplest formulation, the difference between a picket line and a boycott is that a picket line targets an employer at the point of production (which involves us as workers), whereas a boycott targets an employer at the point of consumption (which involves us as consumers).
So in the case of the WGA strike, this means that at any company that is being struck by the WGA - I've seen Netflix, Amazon, Apple, Disney, Warner Brothers Discovery, NBC, Paramount, and Sony mentioned, but there may be more (check the WGA website and social media for a comprehensive list) - you do not cross a picket line, whether physical or virtual. This means you do not take a meeting with them, even if its a pre-existing project, you do not take phone calls or texts or emails or Slacks from their executives, you do not pitch them on a spec script you've written, and most of all you do not answer any job application.
Because if this strike is like any strike since the dawn of time, you will see the employers put out ads for short-term contracts that will be very lucrative, generally above union scale - because what they're paying for in addition to your labor is you breaking the picket line and damaging the strike - to anyone willing to scab against their fellow workers. GIven that one of the main issues of the WGA are the proliferation of short-term "mini rooms" whereby employers are hiring teams of writers to work overtime for a very short period, to the point where they can only really do the basics (a series outline, some "broken stories," and some scripts) and then have the showrunner redo everything on their lonesome, while not paying writers long-term pay and benefits, I would imagine we're going to see a lot of scab contracts being offered for these mini rooms.
But for most of us, unless we're actively working as writers in Hollywood, most of that isn't going to be particularly relevant to our day-to-day working lives. If you're not a professional or aspiring Hollywood writer, the important thing to remember honoring the picket line doesn't mean the same thing as a boycott. WGA West hasn't called on anyone to stop going to the movies or watching tv/streaming or to cancel their streaming subscriptions or anything like that. If and when that happens, WGA will go to some lengths to publicize that ask - and you should absolutely honor it if you can - so there will be little in the way of ambiguity as to what's going on.
That being said, one of the things that has happened in the past in other strikes is that well-intentioned people get it into their heads to essentially declare wildcat (i.e, unofficial and unsanctioned) boycotts. This kind of stuff comes from a good place, someone wanting to do more to support the cause and wanting to avoid morally contaminating themselves by associating with a struck company, but it can have negative effects on the workers and their unions. Wildcat boycotts can harm workers by reducing back-end pay and benefits they get from shows if that stuff is tied to the show's performance, and wildcat boycotts can hurt unions by damaging negotiations with employers that may or may not be going on.
The important thing to remember with all of this is that the strike is about them, not us. Part of being a good ally is remembering to let the workers' voices be heard first and prioritizing being a good listener and following their lead, rather than prioritizing our feelings.
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sttoru · 16 days
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𝝑𝑒 synopsis. tired of the continuous bullying you’re receiving from the other concubines, you finally decide to stand up for yourself. the tension dulls when lord sukuna breaks the fight up.
tags. true form!ryomen sukuna x concubine!reader. sfw - angst kinda, little suggestive. mentions of bullying. violence. fighting. vile language. reader gets referred to as a ‘bitch, slut, whore’ by the concubines. reader gets referred to as ‘brat, woman’ by sukuna. not beta read bcs im sleepy. @ohimsummer, thank you for the idea LOL
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you’re tired. tired of being treated like less by the others in sukuna’s harem. they’re salty—jealous—because of the shameless favoritism sukuna shows. you’re his favorite, the one he can’t seem to get enough of.
that’s exactly why you’re on the floor right now. you’ve fallen to your knees after tripping over a concubine’s foot. you were passing by to go to your headquarters, though apparently such a mundane thing can’t happen in this place without some woman interfering in the worst way possible.
“oops,” the blonde one laughs as she sees you on the wooden floor. you’re covered in food and some. . . gooey beverage. you don’t know what it is, but it’s making everything feel uncomfortably sticky. your clothes, your fingers, your skin. it’s starting to itch.
“should’ve looked where you were going,” another girl chimes in. the brunette. she feigns pity and throws a handkerchief in your face, causing the other concubines to giggle. there are three of them in total. they always stick together to bully you.
the one with green eyes speaks up as well, “now now, don’t be so harsh to the poor slut! she’s got no brain to use after all.”
the other two laugh as you try your best to stay calm. you’re always telling yourself to be the bigger person in difficult situations. you’re clenching your hands into fists, your body basically trembling in anger. you want to swing. to show them that you’re worthy of respect.
“aww, she’s gonna cry,” the blonde one pouts—a mocking pout that gets on your nerves. the laughs sounding from the trio are like nails on a chalkboard. you want to make it stop. you’re tired of keeping it civil, when they have never tried doing the same.
your eyes land on the serving tray next to your hands. the one they emptied on your head ‘by accident’. you take a deep breath and try to remind yourself that it’s probably best to go wash up. they desperately want a reaction out of you and you refuse to give it to them.
despite it all, you’re mad. you’ve gone through enough of this. all because of sukuna’s favoritsm. all because you’re you.
they’re salty that they can never be you. you’ve seen their pathetic attempts to put you down yet simultaneously try and copy your entire existence. thinking that would somehow get them in your position as sukuna’s favorite.
you’re sick and tired of it. today’s the day you show them exactly that. you’re going to show those women that you can and will beat some sense into them.
“oy, dumb slut, answ—” the blonde is interupted before she could finish her sentence. a loud bang reverberates through the hallway and everyone falls silent.
she’s the one on the floor now instead of you. you’re up, the wooden tray in your hands, the one you just used to smack the life out of her. she’s whimpering and holding her red cheek. a nasty bruise is sure to form on her skin; deserved.
“i’ll answer you, alright,” you mumble under your breath. you’re panting as the adrenaline keeps pumping. you stand over her and lift up the serving platter in the air once more—bringing it down over and over against her head, which she’s trying to shield with her hands.
the other two concubines are frozen in pure shock. you’re not thinking anymore. you’re on autopilot. the woman’s yelps and screeches are music to your ears. “hah. you sound as ugly as you look,” you spit on her, watching the blood trickle down the corner of her mouth. you lift your arms up to bring the wooden platter down on her body again, but you’re stopped.
the green eyed concubine had moved first. she grabs your wrists with one hand and smacks you across the face with the other. “have you lost your mind?!” she yells and raises her hand to slap you again. the disrespect you’re showing clearly was not expected nor is it welcomed.
“don’t you fucking touch me,” you kiss your teeth. you’re glaring at her with pure hatred. you push and slap her right back. you’re sure the blonde won’t be up for a while now—she’s done for.
you don’t know if you went a bit overboard with it, considering she’s barely conscious anymore, but you couldn’t care less at the moment.
you’re surprised when the third concubine yanks your hair. “oh, you little bitch!” the brunette grabs a bunch of your hair with both hands and tugs at it to drag you down on the floor. you wince in pain but quickly pull at her own brown locks. you struggle to keep your balance and your scalp aches.
you hate it when women go for your hair when fighting, though luckily you know your way out of it. you take a deep breath and bring her head down, lifting your left leg up at the same time. her forehead comes crashing down on your knee and she loosens her grip on your hair.
“disgusting,” you huff and take the opportunity to push her fragile body aside, making her trip over the blonde girl on the floor. you can’t help but think that your current state is quite similar to a certain someone.
the violence. the seething anger. you’ve seen this scene way too many times before. you’ve learnt it from him.
your thoughts are interrupted by someone pulling the back of your hair, causing you to stumble backwards. “a whore like you needs to be taught some manners,” the green eyed concubine sniffs and keeps a tight grip on your hair. she delivers a few punches to your face, which you actually struggle to block for a second.
the force hitting your nose makes it bleed. that only angers you further. you gather some saliva in your mouth before spitting it out right in the girl’s eyes. you take your chance and grab her hair, smashing her head against the nearby fusuma. the thin plaster the sliding doors are made out of breaks, and she falls right through into the other room.
“i think you all need to be taught how to act,” you pant and wipe the blood dripping down your chin with the back of your hand. you walk through the opening you made in the frail door, kicking the concubine right in the face as revenge for the nosebleed she gave you.
you crouch down, your fingers tangling into her hair. you yank her head up and stare her right in the eyes. there’s an eerie, dark look in yours. “why can’t you just accept that you’re nothing but trash in your lord’s eyes?” you sneer. you are pitying them instead of the other way around, like how it usually would be.
and they despise it.
“you fucking—” “bitch? slut? whore?” you finish her sentence for her with an exasperated sigh. you’ve heard those insults a thousand times before. it’s nothing new. it’s always the same nasty and repetitive comments. you slap the concubine in front of you again for good measure before standing up, “you should come up with something new. it’s getting boring.”
you walk over to the other two, who are still recovering. you add to your last comment with a shrug, trying to hit them where it hurts, “your repetitiveness explains why lord sukuna rarely calls for you at night. i bet your severe lack of creativity shows even in bed.”
“you’re just a boring and hopeless bunch,” you’re out for blood. the blonde and brunette are looking up at you with fear and the sight excites you for some reason. they’re crawling away, trying to go find someone who would save them. the servants are nowhere to be found. nor is uraume, who usually stops the petty arguments.
they’re terrified by how you’re acting right now. they’re clearly seeing sukuna in you. in your eyes and the aura you’re emitting.
you’re mirroring him, his merciless personality and all included. he’s subconsciously taking over your mind and it’s terrifying them.
your steps are heavy as you walk towards the concubines. you don’t pay attention to the blood trickling down your chin, nor do you care about the ache in your scalp from the earlier hair pulling. all you care about is getting revenge for yourself.
you could complain to sukuna and have him punish them in your place, but that wouldn’t be enough. you’re going to make sure that they don’t try you again any time soon. you grab the blonde by her arm, lifting your fist to punch her—
“oi, brat.”
your eyes widen and you snap out of your mad daze. sukuna’s voice shakes the floors with how loud it is. you whip your head to the side and see his tall figure standing at the end of the hallway—uraume being right behind him. it looks like they were the one that rushed to inform sukuna of the ruckus.
you drop the other concubine and look at the mess. the broken fusuma. the blood splatter on the wooden flooring. your disheveled hair and clothes. your bleeding nose. the crimson stained plate and spilt food that got everywhere.
it’s a complete mess.
sukuna doesn’t utter a word. he just glares right at you. you’re not sure if it’s because of your irresponsible behaviour or the mess you created. or both. he marches over to you and grabs you by the back of your collar with one big hand.
“m-my lord,” you whimper, nearly choking as you’re held up in the air like you weigh nothing, like one would do to a cat’s nape. one of sukuna’s hands keeps you up whilst the others hang limply by his side. his red eyes scan your body, moving up and then back down.
you don’t know what to say. you surely have overstepped a boundary - or multiple - with what you’ve done today. you’ve disturbed the peace in the estate and have caused damage to sukuna’s property. both to his women and the interior of his palace.
you cough up a bit of blood that was stuck in the back of your throat. you’re uncertain of how you should explain yourself. “i’m sorry, my lord. i didn’t know what came over me,” you apologise and look down at the floor below your feet. you’re too embarrassed to look the king of curses in the eyes.
sukuna stays silent. it’s nerve wracking since you have no idea what he’ll do in response to your outburst. his facial expression is blank, so you aren’t able to guess what’s going on in his head. it’s a complete mystery.
however, the tall man is secretly more amused than anything. what you’ve just done, is one of the most interesting things he has seen a human do. sukuna witnessed everything from the beginning to the end and thoroughly enjoyed it. from the way you used that serving plate as a weapon to the way you managed to get out of those concubines’ grasps each time.
it’s strange to sukuna; he felt something when he saw you in action like that.
pride? perhaps that’s it. sukuna can’t pinpoint the exact emotion, though if he were to describe it, the closest word would be indeed pride. he is proud to have discovered and witnessed that untamed side of yours. you’re always full of pleasant surprises that keep even a dangerous curse like him on his toes.
it’s why he will never get bored of you. he wishes to unleash your full potential one day.
sukuna finally breaks the silence with an amused snicker. one of his hands move to wipe the blood from your nose. you cringe when he slowly licks the red liquid from his fingers afterwards—clearly ravishing the metallic taste.
“y’ finally did something, huh?” sukuna grins wickedly. he knows of the harassment you’ve been going through and he couldn’t wait to see you snap like this one day.
it’s sickening that he allows the bullying to continue just for the sake of creating drama, but it’s also worth it to him, since he’s got to unlock a side of you he knew you had buried deep inside. sukuna is a selfish bastard. you know that much, yet you like it when he looks at you with a prideful gaze and grin.
it’s so obvious that sukuna took pleasure in what he’s witnessed. he couldn’t believe how much you actually resembled him in a way.
if he were to be honest: it turned him on like crazy. seeing how you fought back against those women and how nearly deranged you became. the degrading words you spewed. . . sukuna cannot get enough of it. if it were up to him, he’d have let you continue. but for your own sake, he decided against it.
as much as he loves that untamed side of yours, sukuna knew that he couldn’t let you go too far. not because he wants to defend those other women, but because he still needs you to stay sane. going down that path of violence surely will do you more damage than good.
he’ll fully corrupt you - your body and mind - one day. just not today.
sukuna lets you back on your feet after you nearly fail to breathe. he cocks his head to the side, still having a menacing smirk on his face. he roughly pinches your cheek, “it was entertaining, i’ll give you that, woman.”
you wince as sukuna pinches the exact cheek you had a bruise on. he’s never done so before, therefore you don’t have a clue about the meaning behind that gesture. though the compliment told you that he was pleased by the ruckus more than he was annoyed by it.
sukuna still hasn’t bat an eye to the other concubines. they are waiting for their lord to punish you for hurting them, but it all seems to be in vain. they know better than to speak up about that to him. they’re easily replaceable. they know that by now. it’s as clear as day.
you’ve drilled that into their head today.
the king of curses pushes your small body towards uraume and you nearly bump against their chest with how easily he moved you around. uraume catches you in time and helps you stand straight, awaiting their master’s orders.
sukuna checks you out one more time in that disheveled state, before you go back to your formal and reserved self. his interest in you has been piqued by today’s events and he wonders when he can experience that side of yours again. he nods at uraume, “make sure she’s properly taken care of.”
uraume doesn’t waste a single second after being given an order. “understood,” they reply curtly and keep you steady so you could walk with them towards the physician’s quarters.
you look up at sukuna, trying to catch a glimpse of him before you’re taken away. he’s staring right back at you, the corners of his lips twitching into another subtle grin. he’s surprisingly pleased and content with your actions.
however it’s also not so surprising, considering that he loves it when you show any hint of resistance or stubbornness. whether it’d be to him or to his concubines.
sukuna’s facial expression turns cold the moment you’re gone and he’s left with the mess. “she took the words right out of my mouth,” he stares down at the three women on the floor who’re still unable to stand. he’s not helping them up—that’s their own problem, “y’re a pathetic bunch.”
the concubines flinch as they hear the inevitable from their own lord. hearing it from you was frustrating, but hearing it directly from the man that’s taken them in is heartbreaking. they don’t dare look up at him in such pitiful states.
“all three of you,” sukuna addresses them sharply. his arms cross over his chest, a ruthless tone to his voice. the concubines tremble in his presence, though it’s partially still because of the fear you’ve implemented in their systems.
he would’ve killed them off right then and there, though you’ve done enough damage to them both physically and mentally for now.
sukuna however, still couldn’t care less about their wellbeing. their wounds and bruises are something they’ll need to fix on their own.
he points at the floor and broken door with his head before turning around to leave the miserable trio. sukuna leaves them with an order that’s usually left to the servants;
“clean up the damn mess you caused. it better be taken care of before i return. ‘nd i don’t wanna hear a single squeak from any of you about this.”
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dragonowlie · 11 months
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Dumbass went into the Devil's Cave again and saw a post not specific to The Thing but halfway tagged with The Thing (which is why my filters didn't pick it up) and I am both "fuck man, the spoilerinies" and also Delighted because that's my jam. If indeed it will play out like I think it will, Because- *restrains myself to the fullest from bringing up revstar right now*
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izzys-bluebell-woods · 3 months
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I feel like people have been quick to dismiss Mimzy's importance in Ep. 5
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I've been seeing a lot of Mimzy hate, mainly on Reddit, where people are genuinely REALLY hating on Mimzy because she was annoying, interrupted Hell's Greatest Dad, and served no purpose in the episode.
Whilst the previous two points are down to personal taste, I feel like considering Mimzy's role in this episode nonexistent, or that she just exists for fanservice here, is greatly overlooking what this episode is about. There are two focuses to the episode, one of course being Lucifer and his relationship with Charlie, but it's also the deepest look into Alastor's actual character that we've gotten so far, I'd say significantly more than the finale. We see two sides to Alastor that both Mimzy and Luficier bring out, and I wanted to kind of highlight my thoughts and what the episode was trying to show us about Alastor that we wouldn't have gotten if Mimzy wasn't there.
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Alastor's instant hostility towards Lucifer makes it incredibly clear that Alastor can't keep his cool all the time - his two biggest flaws is that he is power-hungry and incredibly petty. From what we know - and what is likely to be true considering Lucifer is shown to have no idea who he is - Alastor has never met Lucifer before this. If the theories that he belongs to Eve/Lilith in some way are true, there is reasonable ground to say that this immediate hatred towards him could be justified, maybe it was in some way Lucifer's fault that he's caught in this deal and this is his way of taking it out on him or trying to uphold his end of that deal.
But look how much his mask slips, look how annoyed and angry he is. If this was a font that he was doing to somehow make Lucifer intentionally mad at him for some sort of personal gain, he wouldn't have looked so murderous. Him just leaning down and hissing 'fuck you' right in his face was so shocking for the audience purely because no one has done that to him before, no one has pushed him so much.
This indicates that Alastor isn't just playing some sort of game, Lucifer genuinely got under his skin, because he is so obviously more powerful than Alastor and he HATES that. He hates being reminded that he's not the biggest meanest in Hell - this was explored more in his showdown in Adam, but at the time of this episode's release, this is the most flawed and 'human' Alastor has ever felt. He's dropped from this force of mysterious evil, to randomly picking a fight with the Devil himself because he was so catty about being shown up.
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As further reinforced with him snapping at Husk when he also reminded him he wasn't as all-powerful as he sees himself to be, Alastor will lash out at those who make him feel like he isn't the one in control and pulling the strings of everything - we finally see a hint of motivation for him sticking around at the hotel at all.
But then there's Mimzy.
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We immediately go from seeing Alastor at his worst, at his most aggravated and petty, to seeing him literally melt into a hug. The demon who, according to Viv herself, hates physical contact so much that he would distort and melt himself to get away from it. We so quickly go from being shocked that Alastor is behaving so spitefully to now having to take in Alastor being ecstatic to see someone who he considers to be a friend.
Having this be so directly after his massive tiff with Lucifer is so important. If this wasn't included in this episode, our only insight into the person Alastor actually is would be that he's an asshole. Picking fights with people just because he wants to stay on top, that its the thing he cares about the most. But Mimzy does come along, and we see that it isn't true at all - and its confusing, and that is so perfect.
You think you're getting somewhere with the person Alastor is, but you see that, hold on, there is actually a semblance of heart in there, here he is actually caring about someone. But what is so important about this being a relationship he shares with Mimzy, and something that couldn't at all be explored with, say, Rosie, is the kind of person Mimzy is.
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Mimzy double crossed Alastor. And, according to Husk, this is a somewhat regular occurace. We can see that Alastor is annoyed at her, and I think most of us were prepared for him to do something to her like he was doing to those loan sharks a few seconds before this confrontation.
But...he doesn't. Not at all, he doesn't even snap at her. Perhaps scold her a bit, but other than that, he is so nice to her and just politely tells her to leave and that is that. He does more shit to Lucifer, who literally hasn't done nothing but exist in his presence, than someone who just trampled all over his ego by using him, both as a shield and, well, somewhat emotionally.
In this episode, Alastor is shown to lash out. Easily. All you have to do is be more powerful than Alastor, and he won't like you - that's the impression you'd get from his scenes with Lucifer alone. But we have his scenes with Mimzy as well, and you're being told, hold on, no, that isn't quite correct, because he's not acting the same here. What has Alastor got to gain from letting Mimzy get off of this with no repercussions? Mimzy, someone who has probably sold her soul to someone else and has absolutely no power at all.
Nothing. He does it because Alastor cares about her.
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I don't think I would have considered his friendship with Rosie to be genuine at all if it wasn't for his friendship with Mimzy. Rosie is so powerful, and Alastor has so much to gain from being in close cahoots with her, but it's so clear that he doesn't care about that, but he sees her as an equal. If all we saw from Alastor in that episode was him lusting for power, it would render the way we see all his relationships with people to be of some gain to him somehow. ESPECIALLY Rosie and other Overlords like Zestial.
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This makes Alastor and Mimzy's relationship arguably one of the most interesting in the show. Someone who is so powerful and unpredictable, who hardly cares for anyone other than himself, caring about this absolute gremlin of a woman. He likes Mimzy purely because she's fun to be around, a sentiment you might expect from Alastor, with his stated reasoning for joining the hotel being to laugh at people, but he's in no way laughing at Mimzy. You can tell that he doesn't intimidate her at all, because she has the absolute balls to pull off the loan shark thing with him.
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Mimzy and Lucifer's interactions with Alastor has made him to be one, if not THE most interesting character in the show. Because you're exploring two contradictory sides of the same coin at once. One where he gets so worked up and angry over not having the power he sees himself as having, and one where he's visibly hurt that his long time friend used him. In one instance you have him pulling out all the stops to be as hostile as he could be to Lucifer without actually hurting him (even though he clearly wants to), and another where he has full range to hurt Mimzy as much as he wants to, but he doesn't.
Alastor cares about people. But also disregards people like playing cards. He is such a mixed bag, so far from being one note, and you wouldn't have gotten that insight without Mimzy.
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DPXDC prompt: Spiritual Siblings
Bruce: My assassin kid can't be that normal!
Damian: Well, I’m completely emotionally stable by Amity Park standards. The problem is with you. Obviously.
~~~~~
Damian had long found peace and home in Amity, so he did not worry that the new family and Gotham might not accept him.
Sure, Al Ghul had lived without any contact with his biological father all these years but he could safely say that he had a happy childhood. First years were hard and he was raised more as a weapon than a human being. Even so, after that a ghost who decided to become his brother appeared and everything changed.
Damian still does not know what Ra's owes Phantom but Danny has a right to take him, without prior notification, to live with Fentons, to visit Aunt Alicia at her farm, and to make Vlad’s weekends much less calm and boring. Danny jokes that he just steals him as a hostage when Al Ghul does not pay taxes for using Lazarus Pits. Whatever the reason, he already has a family that loves him.
However, he still wanted to make an effort to fit in this one too. The model of conduct certainly was his older brother. No, not the oldest, of course. To be honest Dan wasn’t the kind of a man that could charm you from the first minute. But Danny, in Damian’s experience, had a calming effect on people. So he tried to act like him.
And, yeah, for lack of experience, he was more fun!Danny at home and super!Danny on patrol but he also really tried not to get any of his own assassin personality in his new-self and was tired of it. He couldn’t get a 100% match. Fine. Still doesn’t look like anyone in this house really likes him, so whatever.
Damian understood why Bruce didn't like his company. Jazz had long ago explained to him the importance of voluntary consent. His mother did a terrible thing. Al Ghul was not a child and therefore he was ready to admit it. However, he also understood that children were not responsible for the actions of their parents.
As a biosocial being, he wanted to be more than just a painful reminder of what had happened to Bruce. Wayne's ignoring of his existence was rude. But Damian wouldn't force this man to spend time with him just because he was legally obligated to take care of his well-being. He wasn't going to prove anything to Batman, and he definitely didn't need his attention. The care of his real family is enough.
But Damian really tried to get along with new potential siblings. He even shared Sam's and Danny’s special jokes with some of adopted kids 'cause he didn’t want them to feel like he put himself above them. He wasn't good at showing emotions but he was as open as the assassin could afford to be to strangers.
But they all obviously expected something from him. And it reminded him of the League in an unpleasant way. It was easier with Fentons. Almost everyone in Amity Park was saying what they thought, and Damian didn’t have to waste time decoding potential conspiracies.
Damian missed movie marathon nights with Sam, Tucker, and Danny. And he hoped Dani had time to bother Vlad in his absence.
It was so weird here. When Danny and Valerie were fighting, they would gather at the dinner table anyway. When Damian wanted to have combat training with Drake here, he was forced to stay in his room. A very strange punishment. And undeserved one too.
Al Ghul felt quite calm and fine sitting at his easel and painting the people he left behind. An unusual subject for his paintings. But, Ancients, he missed Amity.
He missed Jack's bone breaking hugs, Maddie's Ecto-Contaminated food, arguments of Sam and Tucker, cozy art class with Mr. Baxter and even Vlad's done look. He missed Danny telling him about the stars. He also missed sword practice with Dan's boyfriend Fright Knight and he missed Dan's stories about his other youth. He missed literary evenings with Mr. Lancer, Clockwork and Ghost Writer. He even missed the hours-long Jazz lectures. He missed the dance of death and life. He missed being looked at without expecting anything from him. He missed the crowd. In the league, he was never at one with himself and in Amity he was always surrounded by people who were not afraid of his fate as the heir to the said League. This Manor was full of people, but for the first time in his life he felt lonely. Damian has to admit that he felt left behind. Of course, he understood that people needed time to build relationships, but he could have sworn that even he didn't need that much time to connect with Fentons. Maybe this is one of the tricks of the Clockwork? Then this one is not funny at all.
~~~~~Phone call~~~~ Damian: Mom, I want to go home. Maddie: I'm so sorry to hear that, sweetheart. What happened? Damian: Just…Nobody likes me. Why was I sent here? I'm not weak. And my brothers are quite capable of protecting me from Raas. I don't need Batman for this. Maddie: We'll figure it out, champ. Moms love you, remember? I'll talk to Talia, okay? Your brothers and sisters are already on edge and ready to steal you right during the patrol. Damian: It would be nice, but it would put a bat on their tails. So lock them in thermoses if they bother you too much. Maddie: But that won't stop Jazz. Damian: I missed the part where that's my problem. Maddie: Well, it will be your problem if she comes to your doorstep with your childhood photos and moralizing.
~~~~~~~~
It's his birthday. And he was always excited about it. But now, looking at the pile of gifts, he realizes that these people don't know him at all.
And this is the family of the best detective in the world? Maybe yes, but none of them bothered to really find info about him or ask him about his likes. Damian's a stranger here, and that's obvious.
The lunch container, which he will obviously give to the Boxing Lunch when he's in the right time interval, tennis rackets that Youngblood might like, The Graveyard Book…
Valerie had already read it to him and Dani before it was published. Thanks to Clockwork for his little miracles. The book reminded him of home.
Obviously this one is from Jason. And well, Damian doesn't think it was a pun on his life in Amity, more like Hood's inside joke about death but Dami will definitely leave this thing in the room at the Manor and maybe take it with him to the GZ or Amity Park.
~~~~~~~
When they gather at the festive table, Damian realizes that he has to make some kind of speech. He tries to be as brief as possible in his report.
Damian: Todd, your gift is appreciated. And I found a potential use for items that were given by others, Bruce.
Damian never called Batman his father. With Maddie and Talia, calling both moms wasn't weird, especially when Jazz explained to his biological mom that he wasn't trying to replace her. But with Wayne, it was different. Both women took care of him, they deserved this title. Wayne provided for his needs, but his core heart didn't feel like they were close. Surely there's nothing wrong if they're just Bruce and Damian? Obviously, they both don't enjoy each other's company.
Jason: So, do you like books, little demon? Damian: Sometimes reading is quite relaxing, I should point out. I'm not indifferent to Stephen King and Lovecraft. Jason: Personal recommendations? Damian: Cujo is one of my favorites. Jason: Not a common opinion, huh. Damian: It reminds me of my family. Damian tries to smile like Danny does, but Jason's twitching eye clearly indicates that he screwed it up.
~~~~Dick and Jason synchronously drop their forks as an excuse for a conference under the table.~~~~ Dick*whispers*: How's the situation? Jason*whispers back*: If the boy asks for a dog, don't be fooled. He will be happy to dance on our graves.
~~~~Cass knocks over their heads, urging them to return to their seats.~~~~
Damian: So how good you are at fading and sliding,Todd? Jason: Why did you ask? I can't, of course. Damian: Because you're dead. It seemed to me that this was a completely understandable interest. Jason: Wow, what a jerk. Damian: I wonder why your own incompetence makes me a jerk? Even my sister could do this when she wasn't dead for even a month.
Jason, for some reason, looks awkward, although he has never been embarrassed before by the idea that a girl could be stronger than him.
Jason: Your sister? How old was she when... So it's all about age. Damian rolls his eyes.
Damian: We're the same age. It seems like it was four or five years ago. To be honest, I don't remember. I wasn't around then. I'll ask Danielle the next time I go to the cemetery to visit her. Dick: I'm so sorry, Dami. Where is she buried? We can take you. Damian: There's no need. She has no grave, as there was nothing to bury. Bruce sighs loudly and covers his eyes with his hands. Damian: It's just easier to contact the afterlife in places like this, you now? Duke: We are very sorry, dude. Damian: Don't be. People come and go, and then come back if they haven't finished annoying you. There's no point in regretting the past. Her creation was not the most ethical thing but everything is going as it should. At least that's what Grandpa says. Considering that the old man is older than time, I prefer to believe him. No one plays with fate without his permission unless they want to get hit by the clock. Tim now looks like he's going to throw up and Damian hurries to move his plate closer to him. Jason: Yes, Bruce, this is definitely your son. Damian: Did I say something wrong? Dick smiles faintly at him but still doesn't find anything to say. Damian shrugs and goes back to eating asparagus. People outside of Amity are so weird.
Signal looks at Damian suspiciously as he carefully rearranges the plate of soy sausages away from himself. Did he take him for an idiot? Everyone knows that even vegetarian sausage bite and fight no worse than those with meat when they come back to life. It's not Damian's fault that he doesn't have an ectoblast with him and wants to have extra distance from the opponent.
~~~At the same time, in the walls of Wayne Manor~~~ Dani: The operation codenamed "Get Haunted Idiot" is declared open. Danny and Dan *salute*.
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~~~Several Days Later~~~
Damian: So, this is Dan. Danny says we keep him as a GIW repeller. Dick: And Danny and Dan are.. Jazz: His brothers. I'm Jazz by the way. Elle and I are his sisters. Damian: I feat the criteria to participate in their name cult, so they took me. Dan, Danny, Dani and Dami. Dan *ruffles Damian's hair* : I prefer to call this biting threat Damn, to be honest. Dami: Shut up, DaNtE, they almost wrote Dark in your passport, you idiot. I can't believe I thought I missed you. Danny: Wow. Rude. Your grandpa would be disappointed. Great job, lil one.
~~~Several years later~~~
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batshit-auspol · 4 months
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have we talked about the woolworths debacle yet?
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Sigh.
Alright kids strap in, because the culture wars are back and stupider than ever.
So there are two characters you need to be familiar with in this story before we continue:
Woolies (i.e. Woolworths) - One of two supermarket chains in Australia. Not related to the giant Woolworths chain that used to exist overseas, other than the Aussie one swiped the name because the original forgot to trademark the name 'Woolworths' here. Biggest company in Aus, and also the biggest employer. Not a brand anyone with more than two braincells would pick a fight with.
Peter Dutton - Man with less than two braincells, and current leader of the political opposition in Australia. Best known for bearing a passing resemblance to a potato and once demanding that a homophobic song get played for balance when a football halftime show performed 'Same Love'. His reputation is so bad that if you told an Australian that Dutton's favorite pastime was drowning puppies, they probably would believe you.
And to prove our point, here's the best headline a friendly newspaper could come up with to try spin his image:
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The third thing you need to know is that in Australia we have a national holiday called "Australia Day" which is basically a scheduled day for everyone to get into a giant argument.
This is because for the last 30ish years it has been held on the anniversary of the British claiming the land around Sydney as a colony which was:
a) More the founding of an English prison then the founding of Australia, and more importantly
b) from the perspective of the people who were already living here, kindof a very shit day
Now not everyone agrees on this, and even those that don't 'celebrate' will often still have a get together with friends, but it can't be denied that we've shifted a long way from the days when the country used to celebrate Australia Day by kitting ourselves out in Aussie flag budgie smugglers, drinking enough beer to drown Harold Holt, and partying like it's 1789.
(Now a brief break for a real photo of Peter Dutton at a press conference)
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Good luck sleeping tonight. Anyway back to the story.
As a result of this shift away from the trend of showing your patriotism by wearing Australian flag underpants, this year Woolworths decided that they were no longer going to be rolling out their box of southern cross thongs - on the grounds that "this kitschy shit never sells" and they are far too busy with more important things like blaming price gouging on inflation and installing self-checkout machines that think your canvas bag is a crime against humanity.
Never a man to miss an opportunity to act like a massive twat, upon hearing that Woolies had dumped their flag merch, Peter Dutton rushed onto the airwaves to declare that Woolworths had "gone woke" (paging 4chan circa 2009) and called for the country to boycott the store, a story which Australia's media have gleefully put on loudhale for over a week now in order to drive outrage clicks.
We at this point remind you that Woolworths is a company which, as we previously mentioned, basically has a monopoly on selling food in this country. Not exactly something you can boycott.
(Another real Dutton photo break)
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Needless to say Dutton's dumbass plan did not immediately put Woolies out of business, however the relentless media campaign by Rupert Murdoch's minions did result in a bunch of innocent low-wage floor staff being harrassed by The Dark Lord's fanboys and a few Woolies stores were graffitied.
Allegedly being the 'free market' guy, Dutton also kindof snookered himself by demanding the free market not decide the fate of Australia day, but logic was never one of his strong suits.
Anyway, in the end we're just going to keep having this dumb circular argument every year, fulled by a media who love fanning the flames, until a politician has the guts to shift the date to May 8 (pronounced m8), and everyone promptly forgets this was ever a thing.
All in all, that's the long and the short of it. As a final touch we'll leave you with this real tweet by Opposition Leader Peter Dutton, in all its batshit glory.
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We look forward to the absolute dumpster fire of comments this post is going to generate - as is the Australia Day tradition.
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gremlingottoosilly · 1 month
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Flirty+Bimbo!Reader using Loser!König as a one night stand
Good luck trying to explain the concept of One Night Stand to this guy. You got with him because he looked nice, kinda like a murder puppy of that one giant dog breed. He looked awesome, really, in that dark compression shirt that showed off his beautiful muscles and just the right amount of tummy, and he was respectful enough not to stare at your cleavage like you're a fucking meal...so, obviously, you wanted to check out if the bulge in his pants really promises the kind of ride you like so, so much. Obviously, you grabbed his hand and made him walk behind you, so he would certainly get the message that you want him at your place, preferably with his pants down by the moment the two of you reached the bedroom. Sex wasn't the hard part. He is as big as you wanted him to be, and it felt awesome - you were getting even dumber on his cock as he was plunging into you like a man who didn't have a woman in ages...although you kinda knew that he probably really haven't - so it made him all the more desirable. God, you wanted to fucking devour him and put him in his place...even though it kinda felt a bit weird when he started to mark you and whisper all of that creepy stuff into your ear - like how he was making you his, how much he appreciated the tight warmness of your cunt squeezing him, how freaking good everything felt...yeah, it was fucking weird - still, you tried your best to ignore it and just lay on his chest in drunken post-sex haze. It felt great - you can't move your legs, your pussy is numb, and your tits are squeezed and played with so you can feel the marks forming... Problem started later. A) He is in the fucking military. Which is not alarming to your little bimbo brain, no sir, but he started to talk in weird things like colonel and mercenary and all of that stuff, and your brain got turned off immediately. He then showed you some of his guns and it was kinda cool, you guess. Still fucking nerdy. B) He really thought you were in a relationship. He refused to acknowledge the existence of a word one-night stand, and started talking something about making you a decent woman - like you want to, geez...he sounds so old, it's kinda lame. Reminds you of your dad - although the money transactions kinda make him your daddy. So...yeah, one night stand is never going to work. Even if you're trying to ignore his messages after, he will only get more desperate - and we all know what this loser will do if ignored for long enough. At least he would buy you a pink mattress for the basement...
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thenightling · 1 year
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I am very disappointed in the people praising the censoring / editing of Roald Dahl's books.   Let me tell you a little story.   About five years ago I decided to re-visit Treasure Island.  I found an unabridged version.   I was surprised to discover that Long John Silver had a black lover.   Because the book used the term "n--ress" the mention of her was removed from many American editions of the book when I grew up.
Note: I am not saying they removed the N word.  I am saying they removed her *all together.* I didn't know Long John Silver had a love interest until I was in my thirties and read an unabridged version of the novel. It revealed so much about the story that I hadn't noticed before. 1.  That Long John Silver believed in love despite what was considered a cultural norm of the time.  He didn't care about what others considered proper and he was in love. 2.   It shows that even Robert Louis Stevenson acknowledged the existence of interracial couples and yet no movie version I can think of addressed this until the TV series Black Sails. 3. It helped remind me of the culture of the era in which Treasure Island takes place and when it was written, the stigma against interracial relationships that existed in America right into the twentieth century and in some places is still a thing. Sometimes books tell us more than just a story.   They show us how a world was once viewed.   I felt like this was an important discovery, that Long John Silver had a black lover (or wife).   And I was even a little angry that I had been robbed of this in previous readings of the book.   I think the removal of words like "Fat" and "ugly" from Roald Dahl's books does us a disservice.   It "cleans up" the past and denies a chance for us to learn some of the less pleasant aspects of the past and how and why language has changed since then.    What should be a teaching point and experience is lost in the name of sensitivity.   I felt cheated and it even felt a little racist that Long John Silver's love interest isn't mentioned in many editions of Treasure Island.  And I feel that one day there may be similar feelings if people discover they aren't reading the original versions of Dahl's books. Try to remember the original reason Ray Bradbury wrote Fahrenheit  451.  It wasn't about an evil government taking away people's blooks. It was about this group and that group getting offended at various titles until they just banned everything to try to make everyone happy.    
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