#schools can be the worst
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dysphoric culture is old forms not updating correctly so when you go to do something like, idk, find a room to live at for the next year of your life at college, it puts you with three men and uses your deadname and misgenders you in the forms detailing who you are to them
Dysphoric culture is!
Also, mod is having this same issue (but with the college board). It’s so annoying that there’s no centralized, efficient way to update things and now you’re getting outed to strangers. Hopefully your roommates will be okay (or you get new ones)!
#schools can be the worst#also the blog is back! for now because mod is still dealing with some stuff#dysphoria tw#gender dysphoria#dysphoria#dysphoric culture is#trans students#deadname tw#misgendering tw#trans#queer#lgbtq#lgbt+
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#something quick so i can take my mind off school....#oughfjdhfjdhf i have the worst sore in my entire life and a headache#AMEN#trolls fanart#trolls branch#trolls poppy#broppy#dreamworks trolls#artatat#comic#update: so it turns out i have covid
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my body's aching like a knock-down drag-out
and my poor heart is an open wound
A Childhood Friends Au snippet that very briefly delves into Danny's life post-accident.
CW: Mild Mentions of Blood, Violence, VERY mild gore ig. Danny briefly recalls getting impaled during a fight.
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What they don't tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it can hurt. That it can hurt more than when you were alive. That when you die, the emotions you die with stick with you like a leech that just won't let go. That emotions are ugly little thorns that stick their barbs into you and grow beneath your skin; or, at least, whatever’s left of it.
Danny is familiar with anger. It kept him warm in Gotham, when his parents weren't home from work and he and Jason were crowding Crime Alley with their presence. It kept him warm in Amity, when the fresh sting of moving was still needling into his heart and he wanted nothing more than to rip and tear into the closest person next to him.
He's familiar with violence. With fights. With death. He's seen people die in Crime Alley probably every day. From overdose, from gunshots, from stab wounds; anything that can kill, rest assured he's seen it. He's familiar with getting his own knuckles rough and bloody when other kids turn and bare their teeth at him and Jason; they're all just starving dogs stuck in a fighting pit, primed and ready to rip out each other's throats.
Black eyes, stomped hands, bloody noses. You name it; he’s had it. Gotham is paved with the blood of her children, and Danny likes to imagine that when he was born, the doctors handed his mother a file and told her; “Take it. He’s going to need it for his teeth.”
Danny’s mom (and dad, for that matter) was too busy trying to keep him and Jazz fed, so Danny stole the file from her drawer with Jazz’s help, and did it himself.
He’s familiar with anger, he thought he was getting better at it these days. It doesn’t come to him as easily as it did before. Of course, that was before Jason died.
Danny is less familiar with grief. Caring kills and Gotham kills the caring, so Danny cares very little about other people. Or he tries to. But grief hurts. His grief hurts. It hurts too much. It hurts like a bug trying to crawl out of his chest; like a rat chewing a hole through his heart. Some days he wants to dig his hands into his hair and split himself down the middle. Some days he just wants to scream.
He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead.
He wants the whole city to hear him wailing, some days. It sticks itself in the back of his throat like bile, and Danny is one wrong retch away from letting it loose. It sticks in his lungs like all the tar he’s smoked in since he was nine. It pushes and aches at his temples, in his head, like his brain is trying to swell out of his skull. His thoughts becoming so loud they threaten to commandeer his tongue.
He has no mouth, but he must scream.
Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it hurts more than when you were alive. Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it’s violent. That it’s bloody. Or as bloody as it can be when everyone has no blood.
Another thing they don’t tell you about being dead, is that it’s a lot like Gotham that way.
With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies forget death itself. Blood comes easy, like water, and teeth are encouraged. Bring your own fangs to the fight. Dying is something you can just walk off.
Danny’s been dead for three months. He can’t say he’s been walking it off easy. He’s perfected the art of turning his nails into claws since his heart was still beating, but he can’t say he’s perfected fighting other ghosts.
Scrappy is just not enough.
He feels like he’s back in Gotham again. Back in her death-shroud alleyways, fighting someone bigger than him. But there’s no Jason to watch his back, and Danny has to get himself out of there alone. Or he might just not get up at all.
Black eyes, busted lips. It’s familiar to him like an old scent, Danny isn’t quite sure that he’s missed it. It’s more familiar than his fights with Dash.
But there’s no one else who can do it but him. Not Sam, not Tucker. He can’t lose them too. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. His heart can’t take another break, he already feels like he’s going insane.
With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies fight like death themself. He learns why when Technus puts a street sign through his stomach one day. It pins him to the asphalt like a moth pinned by its wings.
Danny claws at the metal like how an animal caught in a trap chews off its leg, and every move is blinding pain. He thinks he was howling, but it’s hard to tell. He couldn’t recognize the sound of his voice.
He bleeds green. It mixes in black with the pitch blackhole in his heart, which throbs and twists and cries in time with his reckless panic. The finger-choking terror of dying again strangles out the air he doesn’t need. His blood evaporates, only to reabsorb into him. It just bleeds out again, cycling like a snake eating its own tail.
Danny breaks his nails clawing at the metal, and eventually gets it in his mind to pull it out. So he does, and the end drips ectoplasm green as he gets to his feet. In red-vision, Danny sends the sign back with snarling, vicious fervor. The pain is irrelevant in his rage.
Only after the fight does the hole the pole left start to close. Danny doesn’t shift human until it’s gone. Unlike other injuries, a scar stays behind. Ugly; mottled, it aches for a week with every twist and stretch his body makes. He hates it.
Being dead is agony.
Every part of him is in pain. Every step, every word he speaks, everything he does, it is prerequisite with pain. The body is temporary, but the soul is forever, and death has carved into it with its freezing green hands and left him with never-ending heartache. It has torn from him and stolen what of him it could, and in return it’s left him with sorrow.
His pain is his grief, and he’s sobbed in the safety of his room more times than he can count. It’s still as fresh as the day he heard the news of Jason’s death. He knows, instinctively, that it will stay fresh forever.
In his room, Danny shoves his hands over his mouth and shrieks in whatever, muffled way he can into his pillow. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. He needs to be louder. He needs to be heard. He refuses to be.
Being dead hurts.
#tw mild gore#cw mild blood#cw mentioned violence#dpxdc#dp x dc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#dp x dc crossover#dead on main#dp x dc au#dp x dc fanfic#cfau#cfau danny#obsessed with the fact that danny just has the WORST fucking time after jason dies and baby i can make it worse#*kills you and makes you a banshee and puts you in an irrevocable state of grief*#delicious angst. danny is having the wORSt time ever lol. lmao even#was originally meant to explore the idea that danny can survive lethal injuries as phantom. which briefly got mentioned.#but i got away from myself. leaning reaaal heavy into the fact that danny's a banshee. At 19 he's got a pretty good handle of himself#but imagine being a fresh out the gate banshee. usually they get time to themselves in the zone to cry until their heart's content.#sorry danny. you have school tomorrow and family sleeping in the bedroom next door#kinda proud of myself. you can kinda see how Rath would've occurred here.#danny is going through it rn#was gonna add a snippet about the city's thoughts on phantom but couldnt fit it in
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Not being able to draw sucks, so here's a Fairy!Amity sketch from a couple months ago
#the worst part is I still gotta draw for school :(#so I have to take whatever chances to rest my hand I can get#but everything I like doing uses my hands :(((#Im in agony :((((#g/t#giant/tiny#sfw g/t#my art#toh g/t#tiny!amity#fairy!amity
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high school joui 4 shenanigans
#deep breaths takasugi#the worst friend group you will ever know#only ones who can somehow tolerate each other#gintoki’s one worst quality is that he cannot shut the fuck up#i couldn’t stop thinking of them after watching daily lives of highschool boys and they’d get up to so much dumb shit actually#can you tell i kind of miss my high school days#i sound so old when i say that wtf im 19#painting has been a lot of fun lately i will not lie#but also college starts like. day after tomorrow im so cooked#GINTAMA OBSESSION PLEASE GET ME THROUGH ANOTHER TERM 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽#i might draw some ginhiji stuff to accompany this later bc of course i will#i am nothing if not predictable to my audience#anyways#sakata gintoki#katsura kotarou#sakamoto tatsuma#takasugi shinsuke#joui 4#gintama#ok bye
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ᵤₙfₒᵣₜᵤₙₐₜₑₗy ₛₘᵢₜₜₑₙ ₍ₘₐfᵢₐ bₒₛₛ! Gₒⱼₒ ₓ ᵣₑₐdₑᵣ₎
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
* ✦ .
Pilot!
Summary: Life leads you to treacherous roads after deciding to enter the dangerous life you knew well not to follow.Having gojo by your side inviting you deeper and deeper into all that’s wrong in the world, inciting you to be selfish and carefree wasn’t supposed to be to your liking, so why do you shiver with adrenaline every time he decides to be the devil on your shoulder?
Contents: Mafia boss gojo x secretary reader.(civilian au ig)
Gojo being an egocentric bitch! Wealthy gojo! X no nonsense reader.
Warnings: trigger warning if you’re not interested in anything mafia related. The narration of this story is inspired by Latin and Asian mafia.
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It was a usual lovely Sunday night, you stepped out of the shower after carefully washing yourself with the most luxurious products money could by, the sage burning on top of the marble sink is enticing all your senses into pure relaxation.
You stepped out of the shower to your cozy heated floors and quickly threw on your fluffy bathrobe, god forbid your body ever threatens to even shiver. Your gorgeous figure is seen walking to your sink to plug in your airwrap so you could dry your Fresh deep conditioned hair so you could prep your hair for work tomorrow.
You were about to turn on your hair dryer when you heard a easily recognizable motorcycle exhaust pipe roar near your street, you chuckled to your self seems like some neighbor of yours managed to get a Harley Road glide cvo for themselves. You cringe at yourself after recognizing some work vehicles on your day off. After visibly shaking your head , your hands seem to newly glide towards the dyson but unfortunately a knock on your door seems to disrupt your short lived peace.
You slip on some Sanrio themed slippers and head to the door, thinking that maybe it’s your new neighbor, Alyssa; a mid aged single mom that always seemed to be missing a cup of sugar or a stick of butter to which you always glad fully gave some to.
But to your surprise, when you open the door your gaze is set upon a black suit with a gray dress shirt underneath, your nose is immediately hit with the smell of a jean Paul Gaultier perfume as the notes of bergamot , orange and amber hit your nose, you painfully raise your head to meet the eyes of the owner of the eccentric aura that is invading your foyer.
His eyes are cold and dead;hidden behind some luscious white lashes. His skin white as a ghost you wouldn’t want to approach in your worst nightmare , as your vision started to descend you crossed his tall nose bridged and visually visited his plump pink lips. Naturally this is where you would stop staring but you couldn’t help but notice how beautifully your bossess sharp jawline decorated his Addams apple.
There were few times you stood this close to him,then you realized. He was at your house,as reality set in you took a step back as fear slowly flooded your system, but for the sake of your job you couldn’t show it; so you quickly put on your resting bitch face and crossed your arms.
You sigh.
-“Where’s your god mother?”- you ask referring to where’s his body guard. He points his head to the motorcycle parked behind the 2024 BMW 7 series sedan. Geto always trailed behind your boss vehicle like a shadow; ironic considering the roar the motorcycles emits is similar to that of a lions.
After returning his gaze to you he trails his eyes from the crown of your head to your freshly manicured toes while lifting the corner of his lips.
-“The more important question is, did you get all dolled up, so pretty, just for me?”- He asked with a smug expression adorning his face.
When you started the job as his secretary, you were freshly graduated from business school. Plenty of companies were desperate to have you as their employee after some internships. But you were set on owning your own company that was until one morning on your door arrived a fruit basket adorned with a letter made out of thick and soft boujee ass paper, all that was written on it was the address of the restaurant of the city and a time stamp. You decided to go out of pure curiosity. As soon as you arrived you were led to a private room that’s where you met the curious man that’s currently crouching under your door frame.
As you sat down and talked , he talked about his business, all was well until he mentioned his business was humbly the proud owner of the tittle of the biggest drug exporter to south east Asia.
You did what any rational person would do , calmly get up and book it to the door but before you could reach your destiny , your now boss clicked his fingers and a pair of gorillas came and grabbed you by your arms and forced you to sit down.
Gojo smiled cynically while laying down your 2 options.
1.You ratting your meeting out to the feds and having your pretty little pink tongue off.
2.Accepting the job offer to be his secretary earning a ridiculously high salary , health care , pension anything you could think of.
You decided for the latter.
Getting back to reality;you had to figure out what to do with the sexy giant at your door.
-“Gojo you know my boundaries, no out of office meetings and no Gore-y things in front of me.Cmon dude you’re better than this. Plus how did you even find me I’ve moved like twice in the last 2 years.”- you muttered looking at his serious face.
After finishing your dialogue you couldn’t help but notice a hint of uneasiness, he couldn’t be mad at you for reminding him your boundaries, right? You know him, you know him like the palm of your hand, or so you thought.
-“I have my ways. Aren’t you going to let me in? You hiding something?”- He says leaning forward scoping your house out.
-“Um, fuck , mean yeah sure go ahead.”- You responded moving to the side letting his breeze by you.
His tall figure literally invaded you apartment, he rested his hands in his pockets as he examined your living space, after memorizing you living room he sat down on your puffy jade sofa.
-“So this is what they call a woman’s touch huh, I’ll be brief, I need you to take your little bathrobe off and put on some decent clothes and pack your little passport and follow me to the car.We’re going to Shanghai baby ,I’ll explain later.”-He ordered wishing you would run to obey his every command
You cackled in disbelief. Truth be told you were scared of the business you were in ,that’s why to protect yourself you set up a rule that you wouldn’t work outside of an office or a meeting room. For the moment you were only used to having reunions with new money idiots who wanted to get even richer fast. You knew nothing good waited for you in Shanghai.
You weren’t afraid to joke around him and push his buttons, he made it clear he needed you, his business flourished the minute you stepped in, you organized his accounting’s in many banks over seas , you created plenty of paper companies to launder his money , you charmed his business associates into shady business and secured international funding. He could never dream of hurting you. Well, not in a way you wouldn’t like of course.
-“I think you’re tripping balls man, no fucking way.Why would I ever do that?”-You striked back as you violently shake your head.
He grinned at the way you thought you could say no to him, he also grinned at the sight of your robe becoming loose.
-“I’ll pay you triple your hourly wage , 5 personal staff , 2 bullet proof trucks for the duration of the trip and all the arrangements paid by me of course. And since I’m feeling nice I’ll even throw in a shopping spree so you don’t have to worry that cute head of yours on packing clothes.”- He smiled being charmed by his own charisma.
You scrunched your eyebrows and turned around having your hair flip behind you.
-“Call Geto in to help me with his bags.”
-“Yes, mam.”
Gojo’s ears glowed red after realizing he could virtually get you to do anything to satiate his desires.
You had no idea about what’s about to come.
* ✦ . * ✦ . * ✦
A/n: hello, I literally started writing this frantically at 12 am knowing I had class from how inspired I was , I plan this to be a full story ig idk how to describe itanyways , suggestions or request accepted!! Comments are appreciated!!!😘
#gojo satoru#jjk x reader#jjk gojo#gojo imagine#jjk smut#jjk fluff#mafia gojo#jjk mafia#smart business school reader#idk really#idk what tags to use#idk how to tag this#dark romance#mafia romance#geto suguru#if he’s a serial killer then what’s the worst that can happen to a girl who’s already hurt
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Story update
I got to write a good chunk of the opening these past two days. Excited to get more work done over March break. And I can't wait to get to writing more about my daughter T-T But she comes in a bit later in the story. Still in the first act, though.
Some more character design doodles:
#personal project#paleolithic#neanderthal#prehistory#I've been SO BUSY#being a school teacher is so difficult....#especially with 6-7 year olds. why did I end up with the worst age group#they are angels and devils SIMULTANIOUSLY.#I felt my soul leave my body this week. two of the grade 2 boys dropped f bombs. i was SO SHOCKED. this word could never leave my mouth eve#AND THESE BABIES ARE SAYING IT!!???#but being a school teacher means you also get school breaks soooo MARCH BREAK LETS GO!!!#First thing I did: write more of the story and go ham with splatoon#the big run was so fun. I still couldn't break through to silver.... :'(#I don't know if I'll get much drawing done. I've been in a zelda 2 mood again. Maybe some zelda 2 art#I need to get back to finishing the remaster! I'm on maze island now.#but on the agenda for SURE is to get the opening of the story done and out of the way so I can start writing the REAL fun stuff#It's taking a while.#rambling again :P#oh and ramadan mubarak! tomorrow is the first day of fasting.
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i am on a one man mission to make people stop comparing alex goth to the god damned terf book wizard boy . thats actually hte deepest part of my motivations
#there's like no connection beyond round glasses and dark hair... sick...#if i brainrot hard enough i can rewrite fanon single handedly#tbf him being outgoing is still not canon to me. i mean honestly i feel like he becomes less shy with age. but#hes playful and likes toys and going outside and doesnt care about money... literally just some kid in the dirt digigng up worms every day#blorbofying this character is the worst thing i've ever done and would you believe it was almost entirely on accident#type of guy that isn't liked in school due to being Weird but blossoms as an adult and is just eccentric.
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Even though I know that most of the science around breastfeeding and better outcomes in life is absolute crap*, I cannot help internally judging my SIL for "giving up" on breastfeeding after nine months. It's stupid, it's completely illogical, it's mean! But that is how I feel.
Maybe I'm judgey because I stuck it out for a whole year with both of my children even though I got mastitis constantly. It hurt like hell, like having a knife shoved into my chest with a bonus high fever, but I persisted. Why? It was clear I was prone to mastitis, why didn't I let myself off? It felt like a moral failing if I gave in. Am I really thinking that because I persevered through unnecessary pain that other people should too?
Not even I truly believe that the very best thing for a child is a happy and healthy mom. I should believe that. That is the objective, evidence-supported truth. Why can I not believe it? Why can I not be kind even to myself?
*too many confounding variables, ie. parents who breastfeed for longer also tend to be richer and can give their children other advantages. There is solid evidence that it's better for digestion and for premature babies, but the IQ test stuff is not well-supported. Also, having a happy and healthy mother (and father but usually mom is on leave) is the best thing by far for a baby.
#personal#breastfeeding#I walked uphill to school both ways so you should stop whining is the worst thought ever and yet...#We really can't help falling into these traps can we?#to be clear I am nothing but supportive of my SIL#these are personal horrible thoughts#but I thought it might be relatable to people#we are expected to be such perfect mothers#and I've internalized this crap
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PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS
PUSSY.
BIG FLAPPY WET JESUS PUSSY.
JESUS' SOPPING WET PUSS-PUSS
[Edited months after posting to discourage catholics from replying to this post after finding that both the nice and much funnier not-nice responses to this were equally bad for my mental health. I didn't wanna delete it bc I was quite proud of some of my responses and it helps to have a visual reminder of why I left an abusive organization. Also, this means that any catholic who has reblogged this in an attempt to convert me, has now reblogged a post that, if clicked, links back to this. Use MY post for propaganda, will you!]
Thinking about how it was never made clear to me in Catholic school exactly WHY Jesus died for our sins. I just remembered that I was literally never clear on who the dying helped??
I've heard theories as an adult, but basically what I'm saying is pointless martyrdom seems a little pointless, and also with enough propaganda the big logical gaps in a belief system get really hard to see. Especially if questioning anything is blasphemy.
I would have gotten in so much trouble for insisting the teacher explain how Jesus helped us by being tortured to death by Romans even when God could have prevented it! God sent his only Son, they would have said! Be grateful, they'd say! Be guilty! Stop asking why he did that!!!
#original#religious trauma#<- what's up guys why did he do that??? for real i was raised catholic and it is FUCKING UNCLEAR but also the basis of a huge chunk of#my childhood?? like WHY though? my friend madeleine said it was related to animal sacrifices with the lamb of god stuff and all#this was NEVER mentioned in my school. i thought he was the lamb bc he followed god but maybe not#no wonder my impulse as a person is to constantly sacrifice myself unnecessarily#i think martyrdom is a bad gift. but i guess torture your son to death or whatever dude. but it's weird to do that and say it was for me#like...... thanks?? you're literally omnipotent but this is like the worst possible version of a cat leaving a dead mouse on my bed#Christianity#thank goodness i was too much of a fag to stay. i was so unhappy there.#the good place actually addresses a lot of my issues with Christianity as a whole while also not being all about Christianity#like what does it mean to condemn a person capable of change to eternal hell?M#*hell??#the good place#god pays the devil's rent y'all. like in that post that made my long beautiful essay about this irrelevant by#summing it up with 'girl they are in cahoots.' i think about that post all the fukn time nothing i can write longform is as punchy as that
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FUCKING HORSES!!!!!!!
#my art lol#I HAVE THE WORST ART BLOCK AND ALLL I CAN DRAW IS FUCKING HORSES#cringe is dead embrace pony#halbarry#the urge to draw gay ppl but i can only draw horses#when in doubt draw a horse#im so fucking normal abt horses u guys would never believe it#hal jordan#barry allen#the flash#green lantern#dc#sorry i drew mostly barry. i am normal#abt barry#he’s just in my head bouncing around#also im sorry ive been so absent school is kicking my ASS#FUCK SCHOOL. AUGGGHHHH
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batman: track and field au
author's note: i just miss track and field varsity even though i wasnt even that good... and ive been thinking about batman track and field au for FOREVER. so today i wrote a bit 📝
things u need to know: bruce is not batman. he's a coach at a school where the rest of the justice league teaches. yes, they're still the justice league. and yes, his robins still end up as vigilantes. jason is 15 in this; the joker hasn't gotten to him yet. also i added some characters ahead of the timeline bc i love them :/
Jason stumbles over from the finish line, grinning and sweat-drenched. And then his face screws up in sudden distress, and he promptly wobbles and collapses onto the hot stadium mat.
A half-formed sound of alarm—
Bruce leaps over the bleacher railing and sprints.
A poor, well-meaning race official gets there first, but Bruce shoulders him roughly aside and crouches by Jason. Jason has turned on his side, holding his right knee tight to his chest and making little pained gasps.
It tears at his heart. “Jason,” Bruce says.
Jason’s eyes are screwed shut, and he says nothing, but one of his hands reach blindly in Bruce’s direction and Bruce grasps it tightly.
“You were terrific, chum.” He squeezes, and feels the tremor that goes through his son. “Stretch your leg out for me.”
Jason shakes his head. “Hurts—”
“I know. I know. Please, Jay.”
It’s slow, and excruciating, but between the two of them they manage to get Jason sitting up, his leg extended straight against the ground. One hand of Bruce’s presses down firmly on the knee, and the other pushes his foot to flex, the metal spikes of Jason’s shoes digging hard into the callused flesh of Bruce’s palm. Jason leans back on his hands, spread flat against the ground, head tilted up to open, cloudless sky, exhaling drawn-out, shaky breaths.
The speakers blare out the next events—second call for Male C’s 400-meter hurdles, and third call for Female B’s high jump. The left side of the crowd begins clapping on beat for their star javelin thrower as she rocks back on her feet, once, twice, and begins bounding forward. Bruce makes a displeased noise. He hopes his throwers remember to pay attention.
A mosquito buzzes by Bruce’s ear and he shakes his head sharply to drive it away. The sweat has been beading at his hairline all throughout, and now it rolls torturously slow down his face. As his hands are otherwise occupied, he makes no move to wipe it, and does his best to ignore the unpleasant sensation.
At last, Jason’s breathing evens out. He tugs his leg gingerly away from Bruce’s hold, cheeks flushed with exertion and, doubtless, embarrassment. “Thanks.”
Bruce sits back on his haunches and wipes the sweat off his face. “Ready to stand?”
Jason raises a hand, wincing as he tests the muscles of his leg. “One sec.”
Bruce nods shortly. Jason safe, his attention wanders over to the bleachers. Tim, thank God, is dragging Damian away from the high railing. Dick and Cass are eating lunch with much avidity—Dick’s best event, high jump, had just ended before Jason’s, and Cass seems to have just returned from shot put. Duke and Stephanie are nowhere in sight, and for a moment Bruce is alarmed, but then he spots them at the stage and relaxes. Duke must have won his high jump—he stands on the highest podium, and even from here Bruce can tell he’s grinning—and Stephanie is clicking away on the school camera next to the official photographer.
As he watches Stephanie turn the camera backward and attempt to take a selfie with Duke, there’s a tap on his thigh. Bruce extends his hand without looking and grasps the hand that interlocks with his, pulling Jason up with ease.
Bruce glances at Jason, and notes how he squints against the glaring afternoon. “Remember to reapply your sunscreen when you get back.”
Jason rolls his eyes. “Not everyone is ghost-white like you.”
“You do not have to be ghost-white to get skin cancer.”
Jason grumbles, but when Bruce raises an imperious eyebrow at him, he raises his hands in surrender. “Fine. Whatever you say, boss.”
“Good. And, Jay...” Bruce reaches out, tentative, and puts a hand on his shoulder. “I meant it. You did terrific.”
Jason beams, bright enough to outshine the day, and something in Bruce’s chest uncurls into warmth.
#bruce wayne#jason todd#batman#dc#ALSO THIS IS VAGUELY FILIPINO AU in the sense that . our track meets were alwys SO SO SO HOT like even when u sit on the track u can feel i#BURNINGGGGGG thru ur shorts like owowowoww and also i feel really dizzy when im out there for so long... sun is a deadly lazee#the worst is when i was doing throwinf events cuz thats right out in the field and u have to wait for everyone's turn again and again and#IT WAS SOOOO HOT IT WAS AFTERNOON AROUND 3PM I WAS LITERALLY BURNING UP IN THAT HEAT and there was only one tiny tent for the scorer but TH#SUNLIGHT SLANTED INTO IT SO ACTUALLY THERE WAS BARELY ANY SHADE AJAHWJSGWJDGKEHRKRHFKRBRBEjehwjwhw#also the cramps thing has not happened to me that much since im not a big runner BUT i see it happen a lot to others. ow in sympathy#also the javelin thrower clapping thing. we do this for this one guy from another school bc his throws are simply CRAZY#u start clapping when he bounces in position and then clap along to his bounds forward and then SCREAMM AND CHEER when it's thrown its grea#my fics#batman track and field au
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I’m gonna brag on myself for a minute because my self-confidence has been shit lately (thanks winter, for your annual crushing blow to my ego!) but I am, in fact, really good at language acquisition. Like, heretofore it was kind of a stupid superpower that I had never once thought to use for Good
which is why, when I had some kind of visitation from The Lort Almightee last summer and They were like "heyy how about you do something to tangibly improve the place where you live. and also start supporting tribal sovereignty. immediately"
I was like (falling out of my chair, trembling) "uhhhhhh I can learn languages weirdly fast??" and lo, God threw the newly-created UMN Dakota Language major directly in my face and Commanded, "GET TO WORK BITCH"
#true story#when people ask why I’m learning Dakota and want to help teach it as a non-native#I have to be like#quick vibe check#can I tell this person that I’m an atheist but God Told Me To Do It Anyway#or nah#the worst was the white nurse who gave me my covid vaccine at the university clinic#she was making small talk and asked about my major only to be like *how do they even know what Dakota sounds like anymore*#and I was like *DAKOTA PEOPLE ARE VERY MUCH AROUND AND HAVE BEEN SPEAKING DAKODIA THE WHOLE TIME THAT’S THE WHOLE POINT*#first speakers didn’t carry their language and culture through the horrors of the boarding school era(s) for you to disrepect them like thi
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UGIS! UGIS! / Wait, what? / Oh honey, don't you know? It means Ugliest Girl In School.
PEN15 (2019-2021)
overlays by: wxlverine, scottvandyne
#pen15edit#pen15#pen15 show#hulu#tv shows#blue's notebook#my gifs#why did they make a show out of my biggest insecurities. i think i deserve compensation#the worst part is it all looks so juvenile at a glance and it is. but in middle school this shit was life ruining.#to know that everyone can see your ugliness at 13 and have to go to school the next morning anyway was life ruining.#also i have complex feelings abt the show using the ''lover thinks ur pretty and that is enough to fix your ugliness''#even if its temporary#so i didnt include it :) but it exists and its good for maya ig
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jorts neil isnt real and cant hurt you jorts neil isnt real and cant hurt you jorts neil isnt real and
#rori this is why he's the worst of all of them btw.... no... no other reasons..... nothing else nuh uh#i actually want to study nora's brain bc this woman outright refuses to describe things that are important#to the point it's a running joke in the fandom that the apperances of each of the foxes is mainly fanon#bc there was so little detail given that no one can actually confirm or deny physical hcs#yet nora is willing to spend two pages painstakingly telling me every step neil takes inside the stadium#and every part of his uniform change. like it's not even interesting or important why are we doing this#literally 'he took his shirt off. he put his socks on. he swapped casual shoes for exy shoes. he-' I DONT CARE#'Can you crash already?' NEIL DSKHDGKSH#OMG THE VIXENS ARE HERE HIII KATELYN!!!! has anyone checked on aaron yet. has he got a pulse#'Maybe he's afraid she'll die on him like the last woman he really loved' ANDREW JOSEPH MINYARD#ooooooooh i love reading the games i get so stressed out and for what. this makes me wish id done sports at school. a distressing thought#aftg#hella reads aftg
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sbg is so strongly linked to french toast in my head that I literally get hungry while writing theories n stuff for this blog 😭 it’s so embarrassing bruh
#I literally can’t eat French toast w/o thinking about sbg theories or Logan slander anymore….idk why#worst part is sbg doesn’t even feel like french toast idk#and idek if I can fix ts bc it literally just my thought process 😞#like how I process information n shi#dude 😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞#sbg#school bus graveyard#school bus graveyard webtoon#schoolbus graveyard#sbg (webtoon)
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