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tgmsunmontue · 2 days

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Where do I know you from? 3/?

Hangster crackfic. There are too many Jakes and Bradleys for Jake and Bradley to be dealing with. Or the Universe is just as fed up with them being blind.

PART ONE PART TWO

PART THREE

Rooster Nine arrives in chef whites, which he guesses answers the question of what he does for a job, although he’s getting asked a whole raft of questions by Three and Five.

“What are you two writing down?”

“Well, every Bradley here has a Jake in their Universe. I think we’re meant to find you yours.”

“We don’t need to find him. I know where he is.”

“You’ve met him already?”

Jake stares at them both.

“Considering you’re both meant to be super smart, you’re thick as bricks. I recognized you all,” Jake says, waving his hand at the accumulating Roosters, who seem to be arriving at an even faster rate. “Of course I’ve met him. I’ve saved his life. We see each other nearly every day.”

Rooster Three and Five exchange looks.

“And you’re not together with him?” Rooster Five asks, raising a skeptical eyebrow and of course he looks exactly like Rooster, but it’s not him and Jake scowls.

“I think I’d know,” Jake snaps.

“Maybe that’s why we’re here. To get them together. Me and my Jake had to swap bodies before we figured our shit out.”

“It’s as good a theory as any,” Rooster Three concedes and Jake pulls a face.

“I don’t need alternate versions of my… work colleague, trying to hook me up with him,” Jake says, and then wonders if that even made sense.

“Bob would probably know.”

Jake is about to ask why Bob would have any idea about this kind of thing but the door is swinging open and he knows it’s going to be yet another Rooster.

“Oh wow… what is going on here. It’s like there’s a rip in time and space and only I can use it. This is super weird. Hey Jake…”

The way he greets Jake and says Jake’s name is syrupy warm and a few of the other Roosters snort in amusement. Rooster Ten is stepping close and giving him a hug, brushing a kiss across his cheek and Jake pulls back.

“What the fuck man. I don’t know you.”

“Bet you want to though.”

“No. Apparently his Bradley is just a work colleague.”

Nearly every Rooster in the close vicinity scoffs and this many Bradshaw’s are really starting to get on his nerves. Rooster Ten rests his hands on his shoulders, massages them and as nice as it might feel Jake is not having it.

“Get your hands off me.”

Immediately Rooster Ten is backing away, hands up in easy supplication, although his eyebrow is quirked in that same challenging way Rooster has and he has to resist the urge to punch it off and he needs to calm down and deescalate the situation. He grits his teeth.

“Surely your Jake wouldn’t want you, uh, touching another Jake.”

“Oh, I know for a fact that he’d be more than okay with this. We have discussed this fantasy in detail.”

Jake doesn’t even know how to begin addressing that, just turns toward Three and Five, because despite their nerding-out over the science they haven’t tried to hit on him. Other then Three giving him a wink, which compared to the other shit happening is completely benign. Still, Rooster Ten doesn’t seem too put-off, settles in the chair next to Jake and just watches, accepts the beer from Rooster Six.

Rooster Ten went to USNA. He’s the first Rooster here who went to USNA and Jake wonders if that’s what makes him more confident. Except all of the Roosters are confident in their own ways. Of course, that’s when Rooster Eleven arrives, and he looks like he’s wearing body paint, he doesn’t have the same bulk as some of the others, but he’s still well muscled. Jake can tell under the body-paint-esque workout attire that Rooster Eleven is wearing.

Rooster Ten reaches over and closes his jaw, dabs at the corner of Jake’s mouth with a napkin.

“Just a work colleague huh?” Rooster Ten murmurs, and Jake gives him the finger.

“What do you do?” Rooster Three asks the new arrival.

“I’m a dance teacher. Are you documenting all this?”

“For science,” Rooster Three and Five answer and Rooster Eleven just nods, shrugs his shoulders easily. He seems very relaxed.

“And is Tom Kazansky alive or dead…”

“Dead… what kind of question is that?”

“We’re just trying to figure out all the potential pivot points of the timelines. So is Maverick with Penny in your Universe then?”

“No. He’s with Beau.”

“Who?”

“Ah, Admiral Simpson.”

Jake is glad he isn’t the only one spitting their drink out in surprise.

#Hangster #Sereshaw #Top Gun Maverick fanfic #where do I know you from?

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cadaverkeys · 4 months

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You guys rlly don't realise how much knowledge is still not committed to the internet. I find books all the time with stuff that is impossible to find through a search engine- most people do not put their magnum opus research online for free and the more niche a skill is the less likely you are to have people who will leak those books online. (Nevermind all the books written prior to the internet that have knowledge that is not considered "relevant" enough to digitise).

Whenever people say that we r growing up with all the world's knowledge at our fingertips...it's not necessarily true. Is the amount of knowledge online potentially infinite? Yes. Is it all knowledge? No. You will be surprised at the niche things you can discover at a local archive or library.

#rambles #if you are a person who is into delicate skills #like lacemaking or printing or sewing #you will know fair well just how non expansive the knowledge online is in comparison to written guides from like the 50s #there was a time where at least one person in the household had to know a constructive skill #but in the modern day there is just less ans less demands for comprehensive guides #library propaganda #im stuck doing an essay rn but bc i have covid i cant go to the library and its totally fucked me #i want to source a lot of the stuff i read irl but i just cant go and get it and theres no online ver

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stil-lindigo · 3 months

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Bisan is calling for another global strike!

I saw some posts just outlining Jan 21st, and wanted to clarify that Bisan has called for a full seven days of action.

What a global strike would look like is:

calling in sick to work

purchasing bare essentials ahead of the week so you can observe the general boycott of goods / buying as little as you genuinely can

putting in a concerted effort to elevate Palestinian voices and make it clear that this strike is in support of a permanent ceasefire!

For those who will have to purchase necessary goods during this time, please observe the brands that the BDS movement is asking us to boycott!

♢♢♢

Right now is also a good time to mention some better uses for your money during this week.

Available e-sims in Gaza are running low!!

Mirna El Helbawi and her team are working round the clock to continue to connect Palestinians as Israel does its best to cut them off from the rest of the world.

You can learn how to purchase and send e-sims here, and below you’ll find a list of what is currently needed (the areas in brackets indicate what region you should select to buy e-sims in).

CareforGaza is an organisation that does verifiably good work, distributing supplies directly to Palestinian families.

They have a Gofundme set up at the moment, but because of Gofundme’s poor track record regarding refusing to transfer funds to Palestinians, I’d recommend continuing to donate directly to their PayPal here.

Good luck to all of you. Don't turn away from Palestine!

#i know that for some people their first instinct will be to scoff. how can anyone just not buy things for a full week?#what about groceries? rent?#and personally. i wanna say yes. there are some things that we have to spend money on to survive.#but it is possible still to make a concerted effort in your life #to carve out seven days where you can minimise that amount of money #i know its a lot.#for some people who are living on a tight budget. i know its not possible and i dont fault you for that #but i know for a fact that so many of us would be able to take out a few daily purchases in observance of this strike #do your best #dont turn away from palestine #free palestine #palestine #from the river to the sea #call to action

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floccinaucinihilipilificationa · 6 months

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#good omens #´hello friends!! how are you!!#I hope you're doing well! ( ´ ▽ ` )#I have a big cough but otherwise I am good! It's nothign bad I am just very slimey #usually I am not a cough person I am not sure where this is coming from #most of the time I just get a stuffy nose #has my nose gotten stronger #but there are good news too I have already found a VERY good chestnut to put into my pocket this autumn!! its very small! (❁´▽`❁)#it's been a very warm autumn in Germany so far so it has not really felt like fall yet #but yesterday it was all rainy and stormy and I had two new books and it was the best day possible to have a slimey cough (:#and now I feel SO much autumn I am close to buying a set of window colors #I do not know what I would to with the window colors I just have this strong urge in me to buy a window color set #the last time I did a window color was at the birtday of a class mate I think she turned 9 and I made a deer #but for some reason we did this craft 5 minutes before we all had to leave so we had to carry our window color deer home wet #unfortunatly for the deer and me I fell down the stairs of her house and smeared the deer all over me and i screamed the entire drive home #which wasn't very long but it probably felt very long for the mother who had a screaming child covered in window color deer inside her car

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time-to-write-and-suffer · 9 months

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I love how on Tumblr, "media literacy" has become "Um, just because someone writes about this doesn't mean they're endorsing this. I hate all these media puritans ruining everything."

I'm sad to inform you that knowing when and whether an author is endorsing something, implying something, saying something, is also part of media literacy. Knowing when they are doing this and when they're not is part of media literacy. Assuming that no author has ever endorsed a bad thing is how you fall for proper gander. It's not media literacy to always assume that nobody ever has agreed with the morally reprehensible ideas in their work.

Sometimes, authors are endorsing something, and you need to be aware when that happens, and you also need to be aware when you're doing it as an author. All media isn't horny dubcon fanfic where you and the author know it's problematic IRL but you get off to it in the privacy of your brain. Sometimes very smart people can convince you of something that'll hurt others in the real world. Sometimes very dumb people will romanticize something without realizing they're doing it and you'll be caught up in it without realizing that you are.

Being aware of this is also media literacy. Being aware of the narrative tools used to affect your thinking is media literacy. Deciding on your own whether you agree with an author or not is media literacy. Enjoying characters doing bad things and allowing authors to create flawed or cruel characters for the sake of a story is perfectly fine, but it is not the same as being media literate. Being smug about how you never think an author has bad intentions tells me you're edgy, not that you're media literate. You can't use one rule to apply to all media. That's not how media literacy works. Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! Aheem heem. Anyway.

#anyway this is just more of that lefty shit where 'well i can't be racist because i'm gay!'#'well i can't be media illiterate because i love villains!'#not how that works babes #'well I KNOW bad from good so i can't be affected by media!'#'everyone else also knows bad from good and defines it the exact way i do!'#'so if i think this is bad then the author must also think this is bad!'#i have bad news ....#also how do you know bad from good? who taught you that? hmm?#did you fall out of the womb knowing? or did you pick up some things on the way here?#'i just know' no you don't! that's what i'm saying!#assuming one thing is always true is the opposite of being a conscious consumer of media soz #assuming someone thinks and knows the exact same shit you think and know is not media literacy!!

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zoe-oneesama · 5 months

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Some "Special" Girls! And the late girls.

Ko-fi | Patreon

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densitywell · 7 months

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spent like an hour trying to find a post abt the disparity of origin companion's content in bg3 and couldn't so, hey, this fucking sucks

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #the fact that the astarion favoritism is baked into the game itself is so darksided oh my god #bc what do you mean wyll has TWO THIRDS THE AMOUNT OF DIALOGUE???#anyways this thread was also how i found out that astarion is the only one with durge specific scenes #and bc the writer was being forced into crunch and writing for both of them. lol #ETA I know abt Wyll being recast/rewritten and Karlach being added last. the post I linked goes into all of that in detail #as well as linking to another post that goes into even more detail and explains where these numbers came from.#you do not have to tell me. or accuse me of making shit up to make people mad. i know and i'm still mad lol #game design is very complicated yes but there's many ways they could've avoided giving the one black character the least amount of content

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honehonn3honey · 9 days

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Birthday boy 🎂

#Happy birthday to all birthday people today #Why do you think that boy Kacchan pouts? I would like to read you in the comments or rb #I know Bakugo’s parents have enough money for a big custom cake but do you think I have the ability to do it? Lol #Or is it just a detail from Inko? A homemade and loving cake for Katsuki?#An AU where they are true childhood friends please #I love the color of the cake #it’s something that I would eat with these sugar star shaped sparks that for some reason you chew and taste a little vanilla #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #〔 honneydraws✩°˖🫐 ⋆｡˚꩜˙ 〕#my fanart #my art #my post #my hero academia #mha bakugou #mha fanart #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha art #birthday gift #bnha #art #digitalart #digital art #digital drawing #artists on tumblr #illustration #drawing #爆豪勝己誕生祭2024

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twinstxrs · 1 month

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so much happened in this whole episode but i’m still on fig infiltrating ruben’s dream, making it look like the place where his friend was murdered, and then disguising herself as kipperlilly & repeatedly saying different variants of “somebody needs to take the fall for this, and it’s not going to be me. it’s going to be you.” while adaine as the elven oracle shows up next to her. can you imagine waking up from that, the idea of a horrible truth being pinned on you by your friend to save her own skin while the personification of fate and destiny stands there, almost as a promise that this is GOING to happen to you. we don’t even know if this kid is guilty. my god.

#fantasy high #dimension 20 #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #fantasy high junior year #fig faeth #ruben hopclap #lucy frostblade #the rat grinders #adaine abernant #kipperlilly copperkettle #watching fig terrorize him like girl!!! we don’t even know if he’s guilty!!!!#this might just be for me but i do not think 5 teenagers willingly brutally killed their friend idk #like there just has to be some other element to it and i am very scared to find out what that was #what if they were put in a position where they felt there was/there was no other choice… like oh my god #my comedy brain is having fun but my ‘this is a teenager’ brain is in such deep distress all the time this season #the rat grinders i trust brennan to not make u cartoonishly evil so i am holding u as gently as i can in my confused shaky hands #also with the devil’s nectar i’ve been wondering why they all seem so well-adjusted & now i’m curious if they’ve been intentionally-#changing their memories in a way so that either the trauma is lesser or they think they aren’t guilty. idk #but it seems like from how gertie was talking she was making it more recently so the well adjustedness from early jy doesn’t quite add up #they could have another source maybe??? idk i’m just low stakes 4 a.m. spitballing here #there’s also the strong possibility that they’re aware of what happened but they weren’t the ones who killed lucy. idk who knows #the way you could probably devil’s nectar yourself into believing it wasn’t your fault someone died… CRAZY IMPLICATIONS!!! CRAZY IDEA!!!#anyways the bad kids & the rat grinders don’t ever have to like each other but i do wonder if at least some of those kids deserve a chance

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confessedlyfannish · 25 days

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Writing Prompt #12

Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.

Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.

Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.

While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.

These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".

There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—

"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.

But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.

He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.

"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.

"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.

"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.

He doesn't look away from the man.

"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."

"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.

The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.

The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"

Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."

"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."

He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.

"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.

"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.

"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."

"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.

"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."

"Him."

"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."

"Why me?"

"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."

This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.

"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"

"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."

Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."

"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."

"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."

"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."

"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."

"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.

"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.

"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."

"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."

"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."

Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.

Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.

"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."

The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.

"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.

"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."

"I have more than one."

"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."

"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"

There is a pause.

"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."

"Resolve what?"

"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."

"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."

Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."

The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."

"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."

"They will have already muzzled him."

Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.

"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."

"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—

Clack!

"sluuuuurp!"

"Master Timothy, honestly!"

"Sorry Alfred!"

#i feel like I'm going to reread this and want to add other stuff #but I also just want to post it and get it out there #fun fact i scribbled a bunch of lines down at 2am bc i didn't want to forget them #im bad at multiple drafts #my writing #dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #batman #i live to make everybody dramatic #but also i subscribe to a world where clockwork doesn't know how NOT to be dramatic #lol he's a ghost from all of time he doesn't know how to speak to humans and tailor it to the century let alone the decade #and his favorite little girl who calls him clocky loves how he speaks so #he doesn't need to change for nobody #nor feels inclined to #also I feel like as god he's way more inclined to threaten to get what he wants than like...be vulnerable #jazz: let's unpack that #clockwork: we never do #jazz: are you saying that because it's true or because that's what you want to be true?#clockwork: ...#also I cannot take credit for BITCH I MIGHTWING #wish i could #that is cash money right there #shoutout to 11thsense

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soarrenbluejay · 1 month

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Supervillains for a community. (Well, except those jerks over in Gotham, insular lot, but they’re they’re one problem) Of course they do- supervillains are a group defined by strong opinions and a willingness to see them through, often with a healthy dash of societal failures and trauma as a catalyst.

The fentons, while not active even on the online message boards, are well known and explosive when they do show up, full of fascinating insights and hours long rants on mad science on hair pin turns courtesy of that ADHD attention span. Bit of the cryptids you feel honored to bump into kind of deal. Besides, like a good quarter of the community as it aged, they’d settled down and had kids (not necessarily in that order) and taken it very seriously! Out in the middle of nowhere, where even the most fearsome government outpost members, the local branch of the IRS, quake before them in fear. Out of the way.

Reveal gone okay-ish, Danny moves to Gotham still to get some air bc now things are Akward and he landed that engineering scholarship which is loads better than any other college would give him with his track record. So- the mysterious Fenton children are finally crawling out of hiding! Everyone is psyched! And roll in to Gotham en masse to witness the fireworks!

Except Danny is Determined To Be Normal. He’s had enough of the throwing himself into harms way shit for a lifetime- he wants to be free to peacefully built Rube Goldberg machines and unintentional increasingly complex bombs to his hearts content. JAZZ, on the other hand- the coveted token Normal One, has finally snapped! She’s watched her baby brother she practically raised throw himself into danger over and over and could do nothing, and now that she’s exposed to this whole network of superheroes outside of small town Amnity, some of those uglier emotions are coming out. And boy is she pissed! And can’t afford to show it much while filing the paperwork to have Arkham legally razed to the ground!

See I love this idea of like, niches in superhero society. A villain the heroes know they can plop their kiddo down with for an exciting afternoon brawl while they take care of a particularly grisly case and come back to a few hours later ranting about some new life lesson and a new move they really want to try. A villain who has a functioning moral compass despite their somewhat batshit long term goal and you can contact to fuck with another villains’s plan so they can laugh at them and you can have an easy afternoon. One who pries up hostile architecture and fills in pot holes, idk man. Get creative here, there’s such potential!

So Jazz becomes a Training villain- someone the heroes know their sidekicks will walk away from in a fight 100% of the time, usually with some new lesson to ponder and only a couple of bruises. Sometimes even snacks!

She also absolutely ambushes mentors to check that they’re worth the kiddo, which they appreciate once they get over being jumped in a dark alley by a 7 foot Amazon trained force of nature. They are not used to being on that side of the jumping, it’s a little unnerving.

(Yes, she low key adopts Shazam upon checking in with him on cursory ‘is the main hero of this city and asshole’ checkin. Yes, the super clones get yoinked out from under Superman’s negligent thumb to go have a blast with Ellie. What about it?)

This however only encourages more assorted weirdos to crawl out of the woodwork. It’s not often one of their own forfeits their potential spot for the running of the coveted Most Normal I Swear prize, but when they do it’s bound to be good! But jazz is off hounding various heroes and punching the faces in of pedophiles and shit whenever there’s no cape within easy reach, and so is a mite bit harder to contact than Danny, who has innocently gotten an apprenticeship under a clockworker for access to their workshop and is gleefully going about doing nerdy shit with great abandon.

Plus this is Gotham. No one gives a shit if someone in the Mad Alchemist uniform and still smoking from their latest experiment pokes their head in a window to bother the local shrimp teen- none of the usual social rules apply, everyone’s crazy here! So everyone drops any and all attempts at masking and just acts their genuine unhinged selves, much to the alarm of the Bats and frustration of Danny.

Bc he cannot get these mfers to go. Away. Even liberal use of the creep stick has little effect when the interloper is calibrated for an opponent with super speed or laser vision or whatever, and he’s trying to maintain his guise as a Normal College Student Do No Investigate.

So he calls in the big guns. He’s not super active in the supervillain kids group chat ever since things in amnity calmed the fuck down post becoming King and then immediately using a loophole that says he will not take the throne until he is grown, as defined by finishing learning his trade a la the medieval standards Pariah set up. So he can just take his sweet ass time with his graduate degree and out of inter dimensional bull shit that much longer! Point is, he hasn’t taken the chance to rant over there in a while, so his Crazy friends are getting a lil worried.

The change to come over and shout at their batshit crazy but (mostly) well meaning parent AND see Danny? Score!

The bats, however, are getting awfully suspicious about this one kid that villains from all over the country are flocking to, especially young and upcoming ones as of recently! And he’s acting his engineering course- all the worst rogues are known to have flown through their PhD studies prior to Cracking. They seem to have a real problem on their hands with this Fenton guy.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #mad science #supervillain community #bonus points if you can pull out some super niche comic villain #justice for kite man #local child of a crazy chemist: so you know that trick you showed me with the soda and the reaction that could turn into just like all foam #Danny: yeah and also back the fuck up #lcoacc: so it’s been like my comfort food right but like I started wondering what you could do #danny: oh no (he says while making what amounts of an overachieving smoke bomb)#lcoacc: so I was like what if I add more of a base to it so it could be solid and then maybe just like a LIL acid to see what happens #Danny: oh ancients #lcoacc: but then the killjoy supes came in a ruined everything from where I was ruining lex Luther’s day #Danny:… did you get in on camera #lcoacc: OF COURSE. oh also like everyone ever if coming over for a sleepover lol #Danny: WHAT I CANT FEED YOU MONSTERS #lcoacc: no worrries we’ll rob a bulk store or something lol #Danny: nO

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tgmsunmontue · 15 days

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Where do I know you from? 1/?

Hangster crackfic. There are too many Jakes and Bradleys for Jake and Bradley to be dealing with. Or the Universe is just as fed up with them being blind.

Jake looks up and does a double take, because that definitely looks like Rooster walking into the Hard Deck, except he’s not got a moustache. And sure, he could have shaved it off in the few hours since Jake saw him, however the fact that the upper lip is also tanned tells him that it’s actually very unlikely that this is Rooster. He narrows his eyes suspiciously.

Weird.

“Hey Jake…”

Jake blinks. He’s not used to being called Jake. Not in a very long time, and not by people outside his family. This is very fucking odd.

“Rooster…”

“What? Where?”

Okay. That’s not normal.

“What’s your name?”

Maybe Bradshaw has a twin brother he failed to mention.

Or a doppelganger.

Or this is a pod person.

“Oh, are we roleplaying? Okay then, hi sailor, I’m Bradley Bradshaw, you in town for long? Don’t give me shit about my name. It’s why I’m taking yours when we get married, remember?”

“When we what now?” Jake asks, eyebrow shooting up.

“Jake, are you okay?”

“Uh. No?” Jake says, because actually, he really isn’t.

“Wait… you’re not my Jake.”

“Your Jake?”

“Yeah. My Jake. Huh. This is weird.”

“You’re telling me,” Jake mutters, taking a quick look at his beer to double check that it is actually beer and not suddenly morphed into anything that would induce hallucinations of different versions of his colleague.

Right.

Because that’s how he thinks of Rooster.

“I think I need a drink,” Rooster says, and he’s pulling out his wallet and heading to the bar, greeting Penny like he knows her and Jake isn’t sure what the fuck is going on.

Then there’s another Rooster. Bradshaw? walking towards him and this one has a moustache, but is wearing a fucking business suit and he’s seen Rooster in formal suits, but not civilian wear and he’s starting to feel like there is something seriously wrong. A big something. Also what the fuck is he meant to call them all? They can’t all be Rooster. Or Bradshaw. Or even Bradley. Not that he’s ever called him Bradley, except in the tiniest corner of his brain in the early hour of the morning when he could deny it to even himself.

“Oh! A piano! I haven’t played in ages…”

Now Jake knows that’s a lie, because Rooster was here just last night, and Jake had been maudlin while watching his fingers tickling the ivory as he wondered if he’d ever get those fingers on him. He likes Rooster’s fingers a lot. Rooster One has drifted towards Rooster Two, is offering him a drink from his bottle of beer and they both looking at him and shaking their heads and Jake bristles a little at the looks on their faces, because they’re clearly not happy or impressed with him and he can’t help but be annoyed by that fact.

“Hey. There are two of me here already,” a voice sounding identical to Bradley Bradshaw says, and he’s making himself comfortable in the chair beside Jake. This Rooster looks like his Rooster as well, apart from the glasses, which he has to admit kind of suit him, then again it would take a lot to make Bradley Bradshaw look unattractive.

“You can see them too?”

“Yep. And I’m thinking you’re the common denominator here. You’re not my Jake. You’re very close though. My Jake has a higher rank than you.”

Jake blinks, a little incensed that this Rooster is also comparing him to another version of himself and he’s somehow lacking.

“Fuck you too,” he mutters, and instead of throwing a punch this Rooster just laughs at him, gives him a flirty wink and nudges his shoulder with his own before ordering a beer and pointing at Jake.

“Put it on his tab…”

Penny raises an eyebrow and Jake shrugs helplessly, wonders if she’s seen weirder shit than three clones turn up in her bar.

“Don’t worry, you’re still plenty pretty…”

“And you’re an ass in every universe,” Jake snarks back and a sudden look of understanding or realization comes over Rooster Three’s face.

“Alternate Universes…”

“What?”

“We’re all from Alternate or Parallel Universes. We’ve somehow slipped into your one. Question is, why?”

“Fucked if I know…” Jake mutters, getting annoyed and taking a sip of his drink.

Then the fourth Rooster walks in, wearing leather pants and has two full sleeves of ink and Jake just blinks, not even sure what to say or do. The third Rooster has gone over and introduced himself, is asking about Fourth Rooster’s tattoos like this is some kind of learning experience or conference and Jake thinks he’s starting to lose touch with reality.

What the fuck is happening?

PART TWO

#Hangster #Sereshaw #Top Gun Maverick fanfic #where do I know you from?

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