Look. Jason’s not fit to travel, really, but sticking around Gotham is too risky. The plane ride should be short enough, and–as he’s happy to remind them–he’s had worse.
Maybe so, but they did not think this through.
First of all, he looks like shit. He’s a cut-up, bruised mess and he looks like complete shit. Second of all, Mark won the war over ‘painkillers will help you heal, and if you fuck up my work on that hole, I’ll finish the job’. He’s right, but said painkillers have their own side effects. Namely, sedation.
Getting onto the plane was an experience. In the interest of drawing as little attention as possible, Jason had argued for, and succeeded in, being allowed to stay on his feet. Unfortunately, that led to his being shuffled into the middle of the pack to keep jostling, jabbing, and general disruption from unassuming travelers to a minimum. And that…is suspicious enough on its own. Then came the super-out-of-it behavior from the pills, and, well, most people are going to see a mentally impaired, clearly injured young man being herded along by a group of men ten-plus years his senior and…uh…yeah.
It’s not a good look. And Santa Prisca being literally Drug Lord Island doesn’t help.
“Everybody just be normal,” Frank had murmured. “For once, we’re not doing anything illegal.”
“How many countries are you wanted in?” Jimmy’d hissed back. “Goddamn, there’s no legroom…”
“Get over it, shrimp.” Trent, everybody could agree, had won the Misery Award today. “This is a war crime, I swear to God…”
“Deal. It’s a few hours, be normal.”
That had been the goal. Sadly, Antoine’s faith in humanity has been begrudgingly bumped up, because the flight attendant has deemed Jason to be At-Risk. He’s too out of it to realize, answering her kindly probing questions with a semi-intelligible, “M’okay…s’rry…”
“He’s got a major phobia of flying,” Antoine finally comes up with. “Took a Xanax right before we left.” She doesn’t look convinced. He can’t blame her. Jason’s mostly asleep already, slumped against Mark’s shoulder. “They always knock him out, but better than a panic attack, right?”
Jimmy intervenes at last, leaning across the aisle with a friendly, “Miss? I’m dying of thirst, could you grab me a water bottle?”
She leaves and Antoine leans over.
“Keep her busy, if she tells the captain, this could be a problem.”
“Ugh.”
“I’m not digging my way out of the Sketchy hole now. You gotta do it.”
36 notes
·
View notes
Chriska fans are winning while we turning into a pile of dust waiting for a [redacted] moment 😭
I know! 😭 But I'm happy for them. It's great to see how it *could* be. David and Gillian have always been different 😁
2 notes
·
View notes
my top bit of advice going into the new year: compliment people. especially strangers. literally everyone you interact with if you can. when you buy coffee in the morning compliment the barista's tattoos. when you're chatting with a coworker tell them that by the way you like their outfit. always find something they've chosen to do on purpose. nail polish, jewellery, tattoos, hair colour/style, statement accessory, outfit, etc are all good bets. things people hope will be noticed. things that aren't too personal so it doesn't make them uncomfortable (eg probably not their physical features). i've gotten into the habit of scanning everyone i talk to for something about them that i think is cool so i can tell them. it's a great habit because it makes me notice people and realise just how many neat little details there are in people's presentation of themselves that might pass me by if i wasn't paying attention. and it brings out so much joy. you'd be surprised how much it disarms people to receive an unexpected compliment from someone they don't know. it is the most sincere smile you will see all day long. it feels nice to make people happy but it also means you win the social interaction. establish dominance by complimenting a stranger's earrings and disappearing into the fog
22K notes
·
View notes
because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.
you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.
you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.
don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.
if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.
you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:
how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!
aren't you happy yet?
46K notes
·
View notes
Nex Benedict's death wasn't just for being transgender, it was for being native too. 2 Spirits are revered in many native cultures and it is a native-specific identity. This wasn't just a hate crime against trans & NB individuals, this was also a hate crime against Natives of Turtle Island.
You cannot separate Nex's trans identity from their native identity - this is a case of MMIWG2S (Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women, Girls, and 2 Spirits).
Native children being killed at school is nothing new, so it's equally important to talk about Nex's native identity and being intersectional, this is a devastating tragedy for indigenous people, the queer community & especially those of us who are both indigenous and queer.
May Nex rest in peace 🪶
8K notes
·
View notes