(Dick and Jason walking through a mall)
Jason: So, why are we here again?
Dick: Babs wants something.
Jason: And I had to come with for what reason?
Dick: If you get something for Steph while I get something for Babs, it will one, make them happier, two, earn you good boyfriend points, and three, they won't talk bad about us to anyone in or out of costume just to see us get punched.
Jason:
Jason: You clever bastard. You finally had a good fuckin' idea and you waited this long to tell me? Let's go make our girls happy.
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can't believe we're all adults being forced into the club penguin level of censorship in 2024
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i hope everyone in nintendo’s management department dies and goes to hell no matter what and i’m not kidding
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the thing is there's like, a point of oversaturation for everything, and it's why so many things get dropped after a few minutes. and we act like millennials or gen z kids "have short attention spans" but... that's not quite it. it's more like - we did like it. you just ruined it.
capitalism sees product A having moderate success, and then everything has to come out with their "own version" of product A (which is often exactly the same). and they dump extreme amounts of money and environmental waste into each horrible simulacrum they trot out each season.
now it's not just tiktokkers making videos; it's that instagram and even fucking tumblr both think you want live feeds and video-first programming. and it helps them, because videos are easier to sneak native ads into. the books coming out all have to have 78 buzzwords in them for SEO, or otherwise they don't get published. they are making a live-action remake of moana. i haven't googled it, but there's probably another marvel or starwars something coming out, no matter when you're reading this post.
and we are like "hi, this clone of project A completely misses the point of the original. it is soulless and colorless and miserable." and the company nods and says "yes totally. here is a different clone, but special." and we look at clone 2 and we say "nope, this one is still flat and bad, y'all" and they're like "no, totally, we hear you," and then they make another clone but this time it's, like, a joyless prequel. and by the time they've successfully rolled out "clone 89", the market is incredibly oversaturated, and the consumer is blamed because the company isn't turning a profit.
and like - take even something digital like the tumblr "live streaming" function i just mentioned. that has to take up server space and some amount of carbon footprint; just so this brokenass blue hellsite can roll out a feature that literally none of its userbase actually wants. the thing that's the kicker here: even something that doesn't have a physical production plant still impacts the environment.
and it all just feels like it's rolling out of control because like, you watch companies pour hundreds of thousands of dollars into a remake of a remake of something nobody wants anymore and you're like, not able to afford eggs anymore. and you tell the company that really what you want is a good story about survival and they say "okay so you mean a YA white protagonist has some kind of 'spicy' love triangle" and you're like - hey man i think you're misunderstanding the point of storytelling but they've already printed 76 versions of "city of blood and magic" and "queen of diamond rule" and spent literally millions of dollars on the movie "Candy Crush Killer: Coming to Eat You".
it's like being stuck in a room with a clown that keeps telling the same joke over and over but it's worse every time. and that would be fine but he keeps fucking charging you 6.99. and you keep being like "no, i know it made me laugh the first time, but that's because it was different and new" and the clown is just aggressively sitting there saying "well! plenty of people like my jokes! the reason you're bored of this is because maybe there's something wrong with you!"
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the older and weirder i get the more i'm beginning to realize that i was actually a very cool kid who had no shame or fear until i was taught that i'd be punished for it and everything since then has been a slow uphill battle to get that part of myself back
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I love the look on Crowley's face when Aziraphale does something bad without any outside influence. And not morally bad, just... definitely not something angelic
The sheer glee in her eyes, he looks like hes falling all over again every time.
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Tim is known as a guy everyone had a crush on at some point. He's pretty, smart and just nice to hang around with.
So seeing him absolutely falter and flail around trying to get the attention of the new guy and failing miserably everytime, is absolutely fascinating to the rest of his schoolmates.
Danny Nightingale does not care at all about Tim drake and it's the biggest drama in the history of the school.
There are bets, clubs of people who want to help and who want to get in between, the teachers are invested.
Meanwhile Danny has no clue about any of this happening and Tim is getting to a point where he considers, ugh, asking his family and friends for advice.
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Dc x dp idea 105
Danny and billy are homeless besties. Living their best life. Tricking the JL into thinking they are both the adultiest adults.
Danny is backed by having evidence of being alive in the past. He obviously just doesn’t age. Billy just looks like an adult as Shazam.
Now. Danny swears it’s not his fault they got caught. He wasn’t expecting to get turned human. Honestly after the nasty burger explosion he didn’t think he’d be reported missing. Plus how does Batman know Vlad has a missing persons report on him.
Batman: *batglare*
Danny: i never said i was an adult. You guys assumed. I just didn’t say otherwise. Thank you very much.
Shazam: *avoiding eye contact with danny*
Superman: *disappointed look*
Danny: *looking everywhere but at Shazam* ha… well. At least I’m the… only kid.. the single one masquerading as an adult. All by myself….
Shazam very much not looking at anyone. Turned away looking very guilty.
Superman: *arms crossed looking at Shazam* Shazam
Billy knows he’s not getting out of this. Goes to his normal form begrudgingly glaring at Danny.
Billy: it’s not like we’re homeless or anything.
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sometimes I think of all the on-the-surface warm, well-meaning but deeply ineffectual advice and attention john gives harrow through harrow the ninth (make some soup and get some sleep! get a hobby! don't be so hard on yourself! self care harrow! as long as I need take no actual responsibility in this relationship whatsoever I would have loved to be your dad!) set up against the stark truth that with his other hand he has been staging her attempted horrific murder again and again and again like a living nightmare on the logic that it will 'put her down or fix her'. and then I find that I wish there is a hell. a special hell where twitch streamers turned necromantic death emperors go
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Prompt 159
Tucker is done. Absolutely done. Danny, this time it’s your fault, and not his, this time it wasn’t him who touched the magical weird artifact thing. At least Sam is there too, so they can complain together.
Or they would, if not for the fact that their bodies are toddlers, and somehow stuck to freaking ghost-speak! And not even proper ghost-speak but like, toddler ghost speak!
He can’t see his PDA anywhere either, which is downright heartbreaking. Patricia had been the best thing he’d made to date! And she was now gone!
At least Danny is also stuck in the same situation as them and- Wait. Okay. Nope, he better not have just seen Sam float slightly. It would not be fair if she got ghost-powers too- holy realms his hand just went through the floor. Okay. Alright.
They apparently all have ghost powers now. As toddlers. In some unknown place that had some sort of ecto-stream runoff thing. That wasn’t concerning at all.
Oh, did he mention the gold-eyed figure staring at them from across said stream? Well they were across the stream, now they seem to be staring at them from like a foot away and maybe having a breakdown. Or a headache? They were clutching their head is what he was trying to say, but his stupid baby vision wasn’t the best at a distance.
Yeah he’s blaming this one on Danny.
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Star Wars: The Sub Awakens
Aka, Anakin has a very ill-timed ~realization~
This is my contribution for Sub Anakin Fest [@anakinfest], which I actually didn’t sign up for but decided to butt in on anyway! As such, this doesn’t correspond to any prompts :)
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The uhhhhhhhhh jevil from deltarune
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the origin of meta-knight's self consciousness
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lando norris x reader, 18+
"i'm bored."
lando's head shoots up from below you. your head is tilted to the side, gazing out the window as if you can't be bothered to care about the man between your legs; as if anything, even the gray skies outside, is more interesting than this.
but you're just pretending, of course.
there's no doubt in the way that your body always trembles under his touch, or the way that your cheeks grow hot when he just looks at you. he may be slow and careful, taking his time with his touches instead of rushing into things, but he's never been boring to you before, and he sure isn't now.
"what?" lando asks, frowning. he's a bit confused – after all, you were the one who called him up half an hour ago, begging him to come over – but he's not completely sure he believes you. he knows the effect he has on you. "you're talking nonsense."
you shake your head slightly. "no, this is boring..." you mutter, letting out an exaggerated sigh. his kisses still linger where he left them on the inside of your thighs just moments ago, and you already regret making him halt his actions.
"god, you're so bratty."
your eyes dart back at him. there's a teasing grin on his lips, and his fingers on your thighs suddenly make themselves known again. one thumb draws circles into your skin, as the other hand moves up to swipe just along the edge of your slit. "i- i'm not." the instability of your voice is clear to lando, and it's easy for him to take notice of how your legs have tensed up in just a moment. "i just... want you to..."
your eyes flutter closed when one of his fingers makes contact with your clit. "hm? what do you want me to do to you?" he increases the pressure, casually circling your bud as your hips buck up slightly. "for you to feel less bored?"
"you- you've said that-" a whine escapes from your mouth, not able to form your sentences when he's teasing you like this. he notices and slows down his movements to let you speak. "you said that you like to make my eyes roll," your eyes find his the moment you open your eyelids. "do it."
he cocks an eyebrow at you. "alright, then." his lips trace down from your stomach to right above your core, kisses still feathery yet carrying more purpose than before. "your wish is my command."
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you wanted to be a good friend, because you loved your friends, but the truth was that everyone else somehow had a pamphlet on being normal that you never received. most of the time you learn by trial-and-error. you are terrified of the next big mistake you make, because it seems like the rules are completely arbitrary.
you've learned to keep the prickly parts of your personality in a stormcloud under your bed - as if they're a second version of you; one that will make your friends hate you. it feels feral, burning, ugly.
instead, you have assembled habits based on the statistical likelihood of pleasing others. you're a good listener, which is to say - if you do speak up, you might end up saying the wrong thing and scaring off someone, but people tend to like someone-who-listens. or you've got no true desires or goals, because people like it when you're passive, mutable. you're "not easy to fluster" which is to say - your emotions are fundamentally uninteresting to others around you; so you've learned to control them to a degree that you can no longer really feel them happening.
you have long suspected something is wrong with you, but most of the time, googling doesn't help. you are so-used to helping-yourself, alone and with no handbook. the reek of your real self feels more like a horrible joke - you wake up, and, despite all your preparations, suddenly the whole house is full of smoke. the real you is someone waiting to ruin your other-life, the one where you're normal and happy. the real-self is unpredictable, angry.
your real self snarls when people infantilize the whole situation. because if you were really suffering, everyone seems to think you'd be completely unable to cope. but you already learned the rules, so you do know how to cope, and you have fucking been coping. it's not black-and-white. it's not that you are healed during the other times - it's just that you're able to fucking try. and honestly, whenever you show symptoms, it's a really fucking bad sign.
because the symptoms you have are ugly and unmanageable for others. your symptoms aren't waifish white girl things. they're annoying and complicated. they will be the subject of so many pretentious instagram reels. if they cared about you, they'd just show up on time. you care, a lot, so deeply it burns you. you like to picture a world where the comments read if they loved you, they'd never need glasses to see. but since that's a rule you've seen repeated - "one must never be late or you are a bad friend" - you constantly worry about being late and leave agonizingly early. there are no words for how you feel when you're still late; no matter how hard you were trying.
so you have to make up for it. you have to make up for that little horrible real you that you keep locked in a cabinet. you are bad at answering emails so every project you make has to be perfect. you are weird and sensitive so you have to learn to be funny and interesting. you are an inconvenience to others, so you become as smooth as possible, buffing out all the rough parts.
all this. all this. so people can pass their hands over you and just tell you just the once -how good you are. you're a good friend. you're loveable.
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