#u can try but

[nat-ter]

Bruce had never met Superman face to face but he still hated the alien and thought of him as a threat and he was convinced his boys did too— except his kids are traitors. They each met Superman individually and found him really friendly and nice. At first, they were all hiding the fact that they were friends with Superman from each other, and especially from Bruce. So while Bruce was obsessed with coming up with contingency plan after contingency plan to take down Superman— even though he didn't try to kill the alien yet since Superman was still doing good for the people and Bruce couldn't just attack someone who hadn't done any wrong yet— the kids were making excuses to go meet Superman in secret and Bruce just went on oblivious to the fact that his kids are backstabbing demons.

Of course they lied to Superman too, about Batman's opinions of the Man of Steel, and the various plans he had made to kill said man. They always came up with reason after reason why Superman shouldn't or couldn't meet Batman, sometimes it's getting so ridiculous they were sure even Superman would call their buff. But sweet, ol' Kal never did.

Eventually, they found out that none of them held a grudge against Superman like Batman did, so they all teamed up together and cover for each other whenever one of them spend time with Superman, or cover the fact that Superman came to Gotham one too many time than he should. And it was the one thing that all of them could work together on without fighting or insulting each other. At one point, to keep their secret friendship with Superman, Dick even went so far to wear Batman's costume and meet Superman as Batman because Superman had wanted to meet Batman really bad and they were running dry on why Batman couldn't make time to meet the neighboring hero, and it wasn't like they could just ask Bruce to meet him considering the large collection of Kryptonite in the Cave. And they didn't exactly want their mentor to find out they had went behind his back and formed a friendship with who he swore was his mortal enemy (B's dramatic like that).

They tried to broach the subject of partnership with Superman to Bruce once in a while, of course, but every single time they were either shot down immediately and called ridiculous for even thinking about it or they had to sit through a dramatic monologue about how Superman couldn't be trusted and why they should stay away from him.

But Superman could fly and had superspeed so of course they couldn't stop him if he were to randomly come to Gotham and speak with Batman as if they were friends. Which was what exactly happened. Dick, as Batman, had warned Superman to never, ever come to Gotham without prior notice and to make sure no one notice his presence while he was in the city ("but you can totally see my kids. I'm cool with that." "Oh? Thanks, Batman. But... you know you sound younger than I thought you would." "Uh... yeah, I. Ehem. I'm very in touch with the modern lingo."), and Superman had readily agreed citing about respecting each other's boundaries and all, so the kids thought they were in the clear. But of course, there would be an emergency when even Superman wouldn't have the time to page first before coming right into Batman's turf and ask for his help.

So on a relatively quiet night, Batman was perching on a gargoyle while the newest Robin was scouting out the alleyways for any trouble. And Superman decided to touch down on the roof behind the crouching Batman and said, as if they had met before, as if they were close friends who hang out every once in a while, "Good evening, Batman. It's nice to see you again. Sorry I couldn't page first, and I hope you're not too busy because I have an emergency and I could really use your help."

Batman had gone rigid in a second and through gritted teeth, said, "Superman."

Upon hearing the name through the comm, Damian panicked and immediately sent out an emergency alert to his brothers before grappling to the building where sweet, clueless Superman with his sweet heart was facing the big bad Bat of Gotham who had been stockpiling on kryptonite for years, waiting for the day he would fight Superman. Which was the first mistake.

Because of course Superman, friendly Superman, with heart the size of the Sun, immediately recognised Robin. And of course, clueless Superman with his dumb, harmless 1000 megawatt smile was waving at Robin as if they were friends, as if they knew each other, as if Robin didn't hear Bruce grumbling about each piece written about the good deeds the Superman did every other day.

The others arrived at the scene faster than they would have at any night. Panic stricken and scared shitless of Bruce's wrath. And of course Superman immediately greeted them as soon as they got there.

Batman had merely narrowed his eyes when Superman had waved at Robin, and barked, sharper than he had before, "What the hell are you doing in my city?"

Superman looked taken aback but he was quick to recover. Seems like whatever emergency he got was more prominent than figuring out why his sort-of-not-really-friend was behaving weirdly. "Like I said, I have an emergency and I could really use your help, Batman."

Batman scoffed but with the voice modulator it sounded garbled and hard for the ears. "And what makes you think I would help you?"

Superman blinked. "What do you mean— Why wouldn't you help me?"

"First you encroach into my city without even asking for permission, talking to me as if we are— friends. And then you ask for my help as if I would just drop everything on my plate and follow you. Who do you think—"

But Batman's rant was cut off by the arrival of the other three heroes who stood at the edge of the roof, looking sheepish and guilty, breathing heavily in the quiet night. Superman looked at them, bewildered and surprised to see all the Batfamily in one place but smiling wide nonetheless because he was happy to see his little friends together. It had always been two kids or one. Never three, never all of them and certainly not with Batman in the mix.

"Oh, hey, Red Robin, Nightwing and Red Hood...?" Superman waved awkwardly by the end of his greetings, looking unsure. "Sorry," he said and actually curled in on himself a little as if he's self-conscious. "Are you guys on a big case? I didn't hear anything so I thought you weren't busy. I guess I could try to contact Wonder Woman if you have your hands full."

Superman turned to Batman but Batman was slowly turning his head towards where his kids stood at the edge of the roof. He was eerily silent and motionless making the kids take a step back nervously. Superman watched the scene with a frown, pulling his eyebrows together so tightly they almost meet in the middle. He was starting to detect that something wasn't quite right.

"Explain." Batman barked.

And Superman's face scrunched up even further. Clearly the man was deep in thought. "You know," he said slowly before none of the kids could speak. "Batman. You sound really different than the last time we met. Or any other time, actually. It's as if you're..." he trailed off, staring at Batman's feet, lost in his thoughts again.

"What." Batman shifted slightly. "We've never met before."

"Oh," Superman breathed out, his face going slack. He turned to Nightwing and the young hero immediately stood up straighter. "It was you."

Batman's head snapped towards where Dick was standing with his hands literally clasped behind his back like a soldier. "Nightwing," growled Batman. "Explain."

"Uhh..." said Dick eloquently.

"Red Robin." Bruce barked when Dick fell into silence, unable to come up with a plausible excuse, or to tell the truth.

"Err..." said Tim, swaying a little on his feet. He hadn't had enough sleep or coffee in him to live through the situation.

Batman did not sigh but Bruce Wayne did. A lot. And the kids had a knack of bringing out the dad side in him so Batman sighed through the voice modulator before he could think better. He had always suspected that his kids were up to something but he was so consumed with the thought of the alien— who was now standing in front of him with the world's greatest kicked puppy eyes in the world for some reason— he had stupidly thought whatever shenanigans his sons were up to, he would be able to deal with it later. Of course, he had never thought that his kids were dirty, backstabbing demons.

"Father," Damian finally said, but only because Jason had been signing at him to do so, telling him to use his puppy eyes since it still seemed to work on Bruce. "This is a misunderstanding."

But apparently they were dealing with the full Bat tonight, despite the involuntary sigh, because Batman did not slumped down his shoulders like he always did when Damian turn on his pleading eyes, instead he stood up straight as ever and met Damian's eye straight on. Jason was sure he could hear thunderstorm coming their way.

"A misunderstanding." He repeated flatly.

"Yes." Dick quickly said and Jason gave him a side eye. Dude, he thought, I just convinced the demon child to throw himself under the bus, why are you still talking.

"How is this a misunderstanding." His tone was so flat it didn't even come out as a question.

"I don't understand," Superman said instead, before anyone could reply Batman. He turned to the kids, his face set in disappointment so similar to Bruce's the kids actually flinched back. "You told me Batman was okay with me hanging out with you guys... And he told me— Oh. Nightwing. Right."

Batman's shoulders went impossibly more rigid. "You have been... hanging out."

"Err," said Nightwing, Red Robin and Robin simultaneously. Jason wisely kept his mouth shut. But Bruce's eyes still landed on him. Jason groaned in his head. So much for staying undetected.

"Red Hood," Bruce said slowly, very pointedly. "I thought you hate Superman."

"Yeah, well." Jason shrugged with nonchalance he didn't feel. "Turns out, he's a pretty great guy. So, kudos to him. Yay...?"

"You hated me?" Superman asked, looking dejected. Like someone kicked his dog and Jason knew he had a dog so the expression was even more daunting. And Jason wasn't having any of it, okay. Kal-El had literally given Red Hood his Ma's secret recipe for the perfect cinnamon roll. Which tasted like heaven (sorry Alfred). They had a bond, okay. No way he would let Superman see him as some cynical asshole. No way.

"Not fucking fair. It was the old man who went on and on about how you can't be trusted while making weapons to kill you. So, in my defense, it was hard to like you when all your flaws and possible weaknesses are pointed out in an alphabetical order." He threw a quick glance at the old man he just threw under the bus. Bruce looked unimpressed as ever. "But that was before I met you and found out that you're actually a chill dude. With a mother who's, like, the God of Baking."

"Superman doesn't have a mother!" Batman, honest to god, spluttered.

"Yes, he does." The young heroes said in unison.

"His world is dead. His parents are dead." Batman needlessly emphasised the word 'dead', for which he got four pairs of unimpressed eyes.

"B, have you ever heard of adoption." Dick said, emphasising the last word just to spite Bruce. Because of course Bruce did, if not, three of them wouldn't be there.

"You have Earth parents!" Batman exclaimed quite unlike himself, pointing a finger at Superman as if that's an accusation.

"You want to kill me." Kal whispered, his puppy eyes back on full effect.

Batman shifted uncomfortably. It was one thing to plan ways to kill someone, even if they're alien, it's completely different when said someone you wanted to kill was confronting you about the very thing.

"Yes." Damian reaffirmed. Ever the literal. "Father has been producing a variety of weapons to weaken you, hurt you and eventually kill you with the material called Kryptonite."

"Robin." Tim hissed.

Damian was still a growing child, emotionally and physically. But even he knew that when his any of his brothers said his name like that, it meant he had crossed a line he shouldn't have without realising he did.

"But you have nothing to worry about, Kal." Damian quickly amended. "Should father try to use these weapons under unwarranted circumstances, he will find the stock empty. We have contingency plans for father's contingencies—"

"Damian." It was Dick this time, who quickly moved and put a hand over Robin's mouth. He didn't even realise his mistake, not any of them did, actually.

"What." Batman said. Mostly confused. He couldn't even find it in himself to be furious at the moment. He was just flummoxed.

"Oh. Uh." Superman stammered. "Thank you? That's really nice of you."

An awkward silence befall the rooftop as each hero stood awkwardly where they were, barely breathing, motionless, not knowing what action to take next. Eventually Batman shifted an inch.

Oh no, thought the boys, he's going to go on another rant.

"You went behind my back," Batman started with a dark voice. "I warned you about the danger and you dismissed it. You went and made an alliance with my enemy." Here, Superman let out a protesting noise which could also he offended because, really? Enemy? Batman ignored it. "Not only that, you made plans to go against me. Instead of talking to me, you decided to oppose me. I have trained you and taught you everything you need to know. I take care of you and make sure to meet each of your needs. And this is what I get in return. Betrayal. You did not listen to me and—"

But he was cut off by a sardonic voice. "Master Wayne," said a voice from the batcomm each Bat was wearing, and Superman with his superhearing could hear it loud and clear too. "Considering your history of doing what you were told not to do, are you sure that you should be giving this speech?"

"Alfred," Batman said, sounding almost petulant.

"It is your fault, afterall, that you did not seek out Superman first before deciding who he is and what he is like. It is a good thing, if I may be so bold to say, that the kids see past the mask and befriend Superman in spite of what you have to say about him." Batman looked at Superman who was standing there awkwardly, staring at Batman. Bruce sneered, unable to help himself.

"Quit that," Alfred admonished. Bruce immediately dropped it. Superman blinked. "Now, Master Bruce. I agree that Master Dick, Master Jason, Master Tim and Master Damian should have come forward with their established friendship with Superman but considering your opinion on him, I believe it is understandable that they hesitated to do so." The aforementioned young boys nodded their head at Bruce. "That is not to say, however, that their behaviour shall go unpunish." Now they were groaning and Bruce had a little smile of triumph. "Perhaps, a few days off petrol and reflecting on our behaviours would do us some good. Including you, Master Bruce." Bruce immediately dropped his smile. Why him, too? Alfred answered right away. "I believe you realise now that you have been acting brashly the past few years. Now, we know that Superman is not as aloof and alien as we had previously thought. He is more earthbound than we believed him to be. If he were to go, he will have someone to miss him."

The kids nodded again. Superman just stared at Bruce with wide eyes and an expression Bruce couldn't put together. Whatever, Bruce had no time to care about him. He turned slightly away to whisper to the comm.

"But Alfred—"

"None of that now. I suggest you send the young lads home and we put this discussion off for the future."

In the ensuing silence, Superman softly breathed out: "Wayne."

Batman immediately went rigid, and so did the other young vigilantes. How the hell—

"Bruce... Wayne...?" Superman searched Batman's covered face as if he was trying to see if he was actually coming to a concrete conclusion.

"Oh," Alfred said, surprised and guilty. "The supersenses have slipped my mind. My apologies, Master Bruce."

For the first time in his life, Bruce didn't know what to do. Of course his immediate response should be deflection. But how could you lie to Superman about the very thing he just heard. The kids didn't seem to know what else to do either.

"Perhaps, you should ask Superman to come over for tea if his emergency is not an emergency anymore and we could talk about this in a more secure place." Alfred smoothly continued. No point in lying now. Superman had heard what he had heard and it was unlikely that he could be convinced that his superhearing was faulty.

Superman blinked a few times as if to clear his thoughts before he cleared his throat. "Yes, uhm. I was going to ask Batman to help me take a look at some data about a shipment from Gotham to Metropolis that was to happen tonight. I have reasons to believe that Luthor is involved and when Luthor is involved—"

"Kryptonite is involved." Bruce finished it for him.

Superman looked at him, seemingly a bit surprised. "Erm, yes. That. But I think it has already happened so... I'd have to follow it up tomorrow. So. Uh. I have... time?"

Batman narrowed his eyes and stayed silent.

"Bruce." Alfred said.

"C'mon B," Dick piped up. "The worst has already happened."

"I concur, Father. Kal-El now knows who you are, it is only best that the matter of discretion be properly discussed." Damian nodded sagely.

"The fuck, old man, are you still contemplating this?" Jason raised his arms in disbelief. He's so done with this family.

"Language, Master Jason."

"Uhh..." Tim swayed on his feet.

Batman sighed again. Dammit. Instead of showing his discomfort, however, he growled out a mean, "Fine." And then he grappled towards where he parked the Batmobile. Those brats could find their own way home and Superman? He could fly anyway.

Turned out, Superman could fly with four more passengers and Red Robin's bike that the kids used to get to that building. Although Bruce later gave Kal a piece of his mind about safety and the standard amount of people Superman should carry during flight without putting anyone in danger.

#superbat #alright this is supposed to be a prompt #but it turned into a full blown short one shot at the end #but if you want to write more to it #feel free to do so #superbat fic ideas #batkids #batfam #and #alfred #oh also: #alfred is bruce's father and no one will tell me otherwise #u can try but #well #u can try #and this could be considered as platonic if u want to #or a pre slash #it's more of a batfam fic than superbat one tbh #just to be clear: the kids don't know supernan is clark kent #just that supes has human parents who adopted him when he was a kid and his name is kal el #and martha's cinnamon rolls are to die for

[pocket-dragon]

Durge murder aura detected

#Dusk is a smol bean and all i do is put them in situations #these two share a warriors bond #baldur's gate 3 #BG3 #baldurs gate 3 #lae'zel #tav #Durge #the dark urge #resist durge #they are trying their best #dusk #dnd #comic #u can actually read more about them on AO3 #im pintsizeddragon #which is to say you can read karlach/druge fics on my ao3

[puppyboygf]

Llaois and Falin are not trans in the slightest lmfaoooooo

^ actual panel from the manga

#if ur gonna leave a bait ask can u try harder next time btw #dungeon meshi

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

#warm up #writeblr #this one has bothered me for a bit #any time a woman does something even passingly annoying we treat it like a fucking crime #hey man. women are allowed to be annoying. everyone forever is allowed to be passingly annoying #as long as they aren't hurting anyone/thing #like u wanna know something? i find it super annoying that men don't wear seatbelts #why arent there thousands of comments on driving videos thats just like : men try not to die in a car crash challenge #''this briefly annoyed me''. okay??????? AND????????????????? go get ur self a cookie and calm down about it #ur not entitled to control other ppl's experiences and emotions just so u can maintain ur own peace #if being briefly annoyed ruins ur whole day! you! need! therapy!!!! #men try not to become immediately angry about nothing challenge: level impossible #ps author is nonbinary. we didn't even get into the gender presentation thing #the fact men think it's SEXY that my voice is on the lower end....

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

u can't fix your whole life at 10 PM!!!! pro tip

#u can try but #.-.

[superemeralds]

lose yourself

#shadow the hedgehog #super shadow #can u tell this picture is just. me trying all my brushes #idk felt liek it #my art

[kangals]

friendly advice from vetmed: I know that when your animal has an infection that is generating a lot of discharge, you want to describe that to the veterinarian, because it’s a concerning sign. that is true. I also know that the most common word for this type of discharge is “pus,” so it’s logical that that’s the word that you’ll use when describing what’s going on. and in English, we often add a “-y” when we’re using a word as a descriptor.

but. the word. the word you are looking for. is purulent.

please stop sending in messages telling the doctor that your dog has a “pussy wound.”

#aaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAA #(i know. I know what you’re trying to say! I understand how you got to this conclusion!) #but please read the things you are writing #you don’t need to say that your dog has pussy eyes. you can just say infection. or ‘eyes have pus’ #pls and thank u #uhh idk how to tag this tell me if something should be added #injury cw #unsanitary cw

[nedlittle]

genuinely i think it's important for adults, especially in the plague times, to play pretend in our day-to-day lives. when i rub my back down with tiger balm so i can sleep without pain, i imagine i am a valiant knight tending to an old injury i received from a dragon. when i go to the store to pick up eggs and milk, i am a lone cowboy riding into town on a mission. when i turn my collar up against the wind i am a femme fatale who's killed 4 husbands and is scoping out a 5th. when i stomp around in the snow i am a doomed polar explorer. if being a little bit silly about my walk to the pharmacy helps me remember that life can be full of joy and whimsy, then so be it.

#this is a pointless text post #my most embarrassing version of this is that whenever it was foggy at the lighthouse i imagined i was emily bronte #or that i was taking a walk in the fog with my good friend emily bronte :^) #so much of this is also tied into the fact that my body hurts all the goddamn time #i am trying to make my pain something i can live with #is this gonna be how i learn that normal people don't daydream about being In The Past #anyway do u guys imagine these sort of scenarios too or am i just a freak #greatest (s)hits

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 271

“Grandmother is visiting,” Damian suddenly said with no warning and with his usual not-quite demanding tone. 

“Who?” Tim wasn’t the only one to startle, seeing as Bruce had practically froze, a downturn to his lips in a silent show of confusion. 

Damian scowled. “Are you deaf Drake? Grandmother is coming to Gotham to, quote, make sure I am being properly cared for.” None of them had known that Ras was with anyone actually. At least Tim was pretty sure that would have been in the files. 

“Oh?” Dick didn’t quite crouch to Damian’s height but it was a near thing. “She-” “He,” Damian corrected, interrupting him. They all exchanged a glance before Dick continued. 

“Is he coming to the Manor or…” 

Damian scoffed again, a tiny bit of a flush against his face. “No, Grandmother will most likely be staying with Akhi-”

Now wait one moment-

“YOU HAVE ANOTHER BROTHER?!” 

#DCxDP #DPxDC #Prompts #Deadly Decisions #Danny & Ras are the homoerotic rivals that no one knows if they’re flirting or attempting a murder #It’s actually both they’re just also both Immortal #Danny to Jason: You can become a crime lord if you finish college- you’ve said you wanted to get a degree this is ur chance #Dusan (nodding): Mother has made all of us finish at least our basic education nephew #Why yes this does mean that RH has just made the heads in a duffel bag debut & the bats have no clue it’s Jason #Normally Danny wanders the universe but RAS (affectionately derogatory) HOW DARE U TRY TO HIDE THE GRANDCHILDREN #Morally Gray Danny #He’s well over 300 and that has an affect lol #Also has some fun fae vibes thx to his ghost half & human half finally balancing out #Let Jason & Damian be brothers #Tiny Damian: Akhi look I found a frog :> #Jason (newly not brain damaged & has no clue who this small child is): …. That’s great #Tiny Damian: *GASP* Akhi you can talk now :D #Fuck it- all the Al Ghuls deserve fangs from ecto contamination #Is Danny actually Dusan & Talia’s mother? No one knows and no one wants to ask the probably immortal fae being okay #Danny brought Damian a ghost hound puppy & Jason an original signed Pride & Prejudice book #How come Bruce wasn’t aware of Danyal? Talia forgot to inform him that the mother she was speaking of is in fact still alive #He disappears for a decade sometimes longer she was using past terms how was he supposed to know

[sunnyirry]

when everyone's life literally depends on you but you're just a girl

#steven universe #as u can see i was trying REALly hard to replicate Rebecca's artstyle #and somehow not failing miserably??? #pink diamond #su pink diamond #my art #fanart #doodle

[arunneronthird]

actually i think they should do stupid things together sometimes, i also fully embraced the fact that none of them have any fashion sense

#taking a break from drawing angst so i can get energy to draw more angst #robin #nightwing #red robin #red hood #damian wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #batman #dc comics #my art #this is obv a yotsuba ref but there were only 3 people in the original and i shit u not #i spent 10 minutes looking at it trying to figure out which guy to take out #turns out didnt work i love them all too much #this is the style i use when i just cannot deal with figuring faces out btw #ladies. gentlemen. you have eaten well.

[stevebabey]

Dustin denotes his plan as a stroke of genius. Steve calls it fucking crazy.

It is crazy — going down to the police station and giving a completely faux alibi for Eddie is crazy.

But then, Steve recalls the handcuffs on the hospital bed, keeping him strapped in even though Eddie’s hardly in a state for escape, all bandages and wires. Steve remembers the fitful sleeps he’s witnessed when visiting, remembers Eddie’s ashamed whisper of fear that one of the officers would smother him in his sleep if no one stayed with him.

Steve remembers the bats. Remembers all the other shit Eddie got dragged through.

And if Steve can lessen that blow… well, then maybe he is crazy for going through with the plan.

There’s no prepping Eddie for it, of course, considering he’s being guarded around the clock. Steve thinks it’s ridiculous considering how feeble he feels just looking at Eddie. When he— when they had gotten him out, there was a moment where he was more blood than boy. Just jagged skin held together by Steve’s hands and sheer will.

He shivers involuntarily. This is crazy, Steve thinks, shifting a bit in the chair out the front of Eddie’s room, waiting for the discussion across the hall to meet its end. It’s crazy, but he’s already done it now.

Sharp footsteps sound across the hallway and Steve’s head yanks up. His heart beats too fast and he presses his palms down into his jeans to wipe them, standing up quickly.

“So?” He asks, eyes darting between Chief Powell and Deputy Callahan.

“That’s quite the alibi you’ve provided, Mr Harrington.” There’s a cool expression on Chief Powell’s face, giving away nothing. “One that not many would be so willing to give.”

Steve swallows. Presses down the panic tied to the implications of what he’s told them— him and Eddie. Him and Eddie together.

“We’d like to question Mr Munson a little as well, get everything settled. You know,” He makes a little gesture with his hand. “Make sure your stories line up.”

A new strain of panic jolts in Steve’s stomach and he hopes it doesn’t show on his face. Glancing over his shoulder, he peers between the blinds and tries to find Eddie’s face. He can only see the hospital bed, stark white sheets and hundreds of tubes. Steve tries to remember that he anticipated this, he prepared for this.

“Now?” He asks, turning back to face the officers. He tries to appear like his uneasiness comes from concern, instead of panic. “He’s just had another dose of morphine, I’m not sure how up to questions he’ll be.”

Chief Powell narrows his eyes. Steve silently begs him to take the bait — he doesn’t want to defer the questioning, he just needs a little more wiggle room in case Eddie is slow on the uptake. He’s a performer though. Steve hopes that’ll be enough to convince them.

“Now is best.”

Steve nods, his face grave. “I understand. Just… if he’s a bit slow, give him time to find his answers. He doesn’t know that I’ve… told you.”

Steve’s hand presses down on the handle to the room and the door opens with a hiss. He enters the room, his eyes landing on the officer posted by the door first before they travel onto the bed, to Eddie.

The chair beside the bed is empty for now which means Wayne must be off getting some food. Good, Steve thinks. This will be easiest with a smaller audience to convince.

Eddie’s eyes are closed, resting as best he can, but at the new noise they peek open. The ripple of happy emotion will help their case immensely but Steve delights in the fact that that reaction is genuine. Eddie is happy to see him.

“Big boy!” He rasps as a greeting. He waves one hand up, wires sticking out of it and the handcuff on it clinks uncomfortably, and he begins a spiel. “Welcome back to my humble—”

He cuts himself off when he sees there are other visitors today besides Steve. The heart monitor jumps and Eddie’s hand drops, eyes back onto Steve in an instant.

“What’s going on?”

Steve strides to his side, his hand reaching out to curl his fingers around Eddie’s limp hand. His skin is cool to touch, fingers icy. Surprise jumps onto Eddie’s face but his fingers tighten their grip, holding his hand too. Steve sits down in the seat beside the bed and lets the real nerves of the situation make his voice tremble when he speaks.

“I— I had to tell them, Eddie. About your real alibi.”

To his credit, Eddie only lets confusion wash over his face for a moment before it turns to some mixture of anger and sadness. A furrow forms between his brows, his grip on Steve’s hand tightening, and Steve doesn’t think he’s acting at all when he says, “You didn’t.”

Huh. Maybe he’s figured it out after all, Steve thinks.

Steve nods solemnly, letting his thumb wander over the back of Eddie’s hand. He remembers what it’s like to dote on girls, on Nancy, and find it’s not nearly as hard to bring it all out for Eddie either.

“I had to,” He murmurs, reaching a hand out to brush back some of Eddie’s hair. The heart monitor spikes again and Eddie’s cheeks glow pink.

Behind them, Chief Powell clears his throat and Steve jumps, remembering himself and what he’s trying to accomplish here.

“Excuse us, Mr. Munson, we have a few questions for you.”

There’s a moment where they let their words register and Eddie takes a deep breath, squeezing Steve’s hand and giving a little nod. Chief Powell continues.

“Mr. Harrington here has come forward with a statement that would place you elsewhere than the scene of the crime at the time of Miss Cunningham’s murder. Can you recall where you were that night?”

The mention of Chrissy’s name makes Eddie flinch and Steve’s glad he’s already holding his hand so he can squeeze it gently. Eddie’s gaze drops to their intertwined hands and stares hard for a moment. Shuffling puzzle pieces into place.

Steve leans down, presses a soft kiss to his bruised knuckles, and says “Tell them the truth.”

Eddie inhales sharply, steeling his nerves and turns his attention back to the officers. “I was with Steve. We were… we were at his house.”

Chief Powell nods, scratching words down in his notepad. He hums in a way that tells Eddie to keep going.

“We were…” Eddie trails off and looks to Steve, trying to follow the story already planted. Steve nods, hoping it comes off like he’s trying to be comforting boyfriend, instead of a subtle nudge.

“…Kissing.”

Steve resists the urge to snort at the absurdity of the whole situation. This whole thing is so convoluted and it’s twisted that Eddie’s even been accused but Steve’s putting his fuckin’ reputation on the line and Eddie says they’ve been kissing?

He doesn’t even need to turn around to know some eyebrows have raised behind him.

“Kissing?” Steve hears Chief Powell repeat. “Just… kissing?”

Eddie’s attention snaps forward again and Steve can see him piece together the snappy persona, the Freak, the scary dog privileges that come with being an outsider. He straightens up a bit, shoulders squaring but Steve can feel the quake in his hand.

“I’m sorry, did you want a play by play of the whole act, Chief Powell? I can go into detail if you want, who took who’s pants off first, yanno, but I didn’t peg you for that kinda guy.”

Steve can’t miss this reaction, turning his head to watch both officers shuffle uncomfortably on the spot. Chief Powell tries to keep his power, eyes narrowing, but it’s hard to maintain when Steve dots another quick kiss across Eddie’s knuckle.

“Very well.” He seems to land on. “We’ll be back to collect a formal statement later—”

Eddie gives a faint squeak, his hand grasping Steves that much tighter.

“—but I’m happy to have the guard and cuffs removed from your room for now.”

A sigh so large escapes Eddie that his chest deflates a good couple inches and Steve feels his own shoulders relax a bit. Chief Powell steps forward, key retrieved from his belt and Steve winces seeing the ring of irritated skin around Eddie’s wrist. No doubt caused from the thrashing of night terrors.

He releases Eddie’s hand long enough for it to be freed, scooping it back up in his as soon as he can, properly this time. All fingers intertwined, palm to palm. Eddie eyes their hands again and Steve pretends to not hear the jump in the heart monitor.

The officers leave, including the one holding post, the door sliding shut with a gentle click and Steve holds himself still— unsure of how to start explaining what he had sprung on Eddie. He feels bad, dropping him in the deep end, even if it was for his own good.

“Eddie—” He starts.

“Hug me.” Eddie hisses out the corner of his mouth. When Steve doesn’t react, he says it again, fiercer - it doesn’t match the way he’s smiling so sweetly at Steve. “Hug. Me.”

Steve does as he’s told, shooting up onto his feet and hesitating only for a moment before Eddie’s arms are creeping around his waist — he leans over and tries to keep his weight off him. Eddie’s frazzled curls tickle at his cheek and Steve just burrows his face in further.

There’s a faint whisper into his ear. “They were watching still.”

Steve pulls back a bit, not to check over his shoulder, but to see Eddie’s face. He’s serious, eyes skirting the window behind them but the moment Steve pulls back, his eyes shift down and he softens.

“And now… kiss me too?” He says. His tone conveys that he knows he’s being far too cheeky. Steve’s wonders if the officers are still watching. Wonders if he’d still kiss him even if they weren’t. He casts a glance over his shoulder and is met with a empty window, the officers retreating down the hall.

He turns back to Eddie with an incredulous expression. “What? Getting you off murder charges not good enough for you?”

Eddie’s face shutters for a moment, as though every emotion to do with Steve’s sacrifice floods him at once. There’s a burst of gratitude when he doesn’t mention it — doesn’t mention everything Steve might be giving up for Eddie, everything that might crumble should the details of the case become public.

He chooses the joke again. Eddie always does.

“Yes, but remember, we’re madly in love,” Eddie sings, brows wiggling about on his face and making Steve snort. “So feel free to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”

Steve snorts. “Duly noted, Munson.”

Eddie throws his head back softly against his pillow and pretends to wail in pain. “Munson? That’s all I am to you? That’s how you treat your boyfriend?”

Steve can’t help but grin a little at the theatrics and finds himself thinking that of all the people to be stuck pretending he’s dating, at least with Eddie, it’ll be enjoyable. Well, at least interesting. It will certainly be an experience.

“You have no idea how I treat my boyfriends, baby.” Steve says, voice low, just to see if he can get Eddie’s heart monitor to jump again. It does, a steady beeping as the BPM climbs up a few numbers.

Steve can feel the blush on Eddie’s cheeks, he’s so close, and it’s so nice to see colour on his face — such a stark comparison to the paleness of- well, of older memories.

Steve grins. Despite every nerve that feels singed beneath his skin, overworked from all his anxiety — despite considering every potential backlash that faces both them outside this room, outside the hospital, Steve searches within himself.

He can’t find one single ounce of regret.

next part.

#gay ppl in my phone…. take this humble offering to tide u over between fics #everything has become long #i cannot help it #every idea is like 5k+ words #this is me trying to combat it #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #pre steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #uhhhh that’s all folks #this is indeed the trope of steve telling the police they were fucking for their alibi lmao #10 points if u can guess which line is from the hunger games! #that’s what inspired this

[hajihiko]

Nice night 🌘

#fuyuhiko kuzuryu #hajime hinata #kazuichi souda #akane owari #sonia nevermind #sdr2 #super danganronpa 2 #danganronpa 2 #danganronpa #an art #Me drawing this at 8 in the morning: #I was drawing this after working on the fic a bit. I'm struggling....but trying.... !!!!!!! #Please for the love of God don't focus on the hand size changing. You think u can keep track of that??? #Edit: the final chapter is almost done. I drew this as a comfort before All That lol so. Enjoy #Me after writing: ...... and then it was all a bad dream the end :) #Vi if you see this. I'm waving. Tysm for your hard work

[inkskinned]

probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.

we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."

at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.

the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.

the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.

what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.

here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.

#this is true #writeblr #warm up #relatedly for some reason one of our Favorite Jokes #amongst the Siblings #is like - ''this is so good u will love it'' #while we are reacting to something we OBVIOUSLY find viscerally disgusting #like we will be actively retching and be like ''nooooo it's so good'' #to the point that i sometimes get nervous if someone outside my family is like oh u should try it its good #(obvi we never force each other to eat anything. we are all just curious birds and #like. we're GONNA try the new thing.) #edit to answer why we had so much vanilla: #my mom is a very good cook and we LOVE to bake. so she just had a lot of staples in the house. #it's one of those things that's like. have u ever continuously thought ''ah i should get butter im probably out'' #even tho u are not out of butter. so u end up with like 5 years of butter. #my mom would do that in a costco but like with vanilla extract #to be fair we WERE always using WAY TOO MUCH bc we were kids #so like she was right to stock up #ps. yes we were VERY sick after this lol i just didn't want to include it in the post in case ppl had an ick about that #u can tell it's real bc we knew "oh no we fucked up that's too much vanilla to waste'' but our reaction was to just. keep drinking it #> sibling understanding that vanilla extract isn't free > knowledge mother doesnt mind if we use it for milkshakes #> sibling choice to maybe get in a loophole of ''not wasting it'' if we drink it bc that's the same as using it (not throwing it out) #listen bud i was like 13 and my sister was like 9 #when my mom discovered this we. got in. A LOT. of trouble. a lot of it. a LOT of it. #3rd edit bc i guess it isn't clear - i am 1 of my brother's 2 little sisters #i am the middle child #out of all the ways i have had to explain a post before being like ''did u forget a middle child can happen'' is my favorite

[rollercoasterwords]

the tiktokification of ao3

or: some of you fundamentally misunderstand ao3 and it really, really shows

i was talking about this with a friend a few days ago and since then i've seen multiple posts of various sorts that have just made me think about it more, so. here is me breaking down a disconnect i see particularly with younger members of the marauders fandom (i say marauders specifically just bc that's the only one i'm plugged into):

okay, so i've seen many (usually younger) marauders fans either talking online about how they wish ao3 was more like social media (specifically regarding algorithms) OR talking about ao3/fanfiction/fanfic writers as if they are operating under the same etiquette/guidelines/assumptions they would bring into social media platforms. this ranges from being mildly irritating to genuinely harmful, and i want to talk abt why.

first - you have to understand that social media, in this day and age, exists in a profit economy. and when i say social media here, i'm referring to platforms like tiktok, twitter, instagram, etc. all of these platforms exist in a profit economy where content is a product that can be monetized. this leads to a few important distinctions:

people posting on these social media platforms are generally posting with the intent to get their content seen by as many people as possible, as quickly as possible

they post with this intent because once their content is consumed by enough people, it becomes a product that they can monetize

therefore, if that content gets popular enough, these people can become influencers, where content creation is an actual job and their audience are, in a sort of vague and obscured way, similar to consumers purchasing a product

because of the profit economy surrounding social media, there are certain assumptions + forms of interaction that bleed across almost all social media platforms. the ones relevant to this little essay include:

operating under the assumption that anyone posting anything on the internet wants to go viral, ie. be seen by as many people as possible as quickly as possible in order to grow an "audience"

these influencers are creating content for us, their audience, so they should want to please us. they should also be trying to appeal to the broadest possible audience. therefore, if we dislike their content, we have a right to make that very, very clear.

in that same vein, we have a general right to critique content creators, as they are making a profit and we are the consumers purchasing their product--much like you might feel entitled to a certain standard of service in a restaurant where you are paying for the food.

when you carry these assumptions over to a platform like ao3, it creates problems. why? in a nutshell: because ao3 exists outside the profit economy

ao3 is a non-profit. it does not have an algorithm because it is not trying to sell you anything. this means that the writers posting their work on ao3 are not making a profit. we are not influencers. we are not creating monetized content to sell to a consumer-audience. where consuming content on other social media platforms might be comparable to eating at a restaurant, reading fanfiction on ao3 is more like coming over to someone's house and eating cookies that they made for free. you are in their house. the cookies are free, given as a gift. so what happens when those assumptions outlined above start to bleed over from other social media?

assuming that anyone posting fanfiction online wants their work to go viral -- i've seen this with popular fic writers getting questions like, "are you worried x isn't going to be as popular as y?" those questions are usually not ill-intended, but they demonstrate a fundamental lack of understanding about why writers post work on ao3. it's not to go viral. it's not to build any sort of online following. most of us who post on ao3 have jobs or schoolwork or other commitments, and writing fanfiction is something done for fun, out of a love for writing. those sharing their work online might be seeking community, but that is fundamentally different from seeking an audience, and in no way involves internet virality. if someone is posting fanfic on ao3 with the hope that it'll "go viral," then they likely either won't continue writing fanfic for long or will reach a point where they have to re-evalute their motivations, because seeking joy and validation by turning your art into a product for consumption just isn't very sustainable.

influencers are creating content for us, so we have a right to let them know if we don't like it -- nope!! fic writers are not influencers. yes, even the popular ones. no matter how much other people might blow their work up on social media, fic writers are still outside the profit economy. they are not creating content for an audience. they are not creating content for you. they are writing because they love it, and they are generously sharing it. if you don't like it, don't interact with it. you are never entitled to loudly and publicly proclaim how much you dislike a fic. i talk about this more here

we have a general right to critique fic writers, the same way we do with content creators/influencers -- again, no. you should not be treating fic writers the way you would treat an influencer on another social media platform, no matter how popular they may be. this is not to say fic writers are beyond all reproach; rather, it is a call-in to check your entitlement. fic writers are not little jesters entertaining in your court. they are not subject to your whims. they do not have to do things for you. they do not have to write things you like. in that post i linked on point 2, i talk about what etiquette might look like if you're really concerned that a fic writer is doing something harmful, but that is not what i'm talking about here. i am talking about the proliferation of negativity i have seen, especially on twitter and tiktok, where people essentially just talk shit about fics or fic writers as though they are entitled to have those fic writers working to please them. this is gross, and it needs to stop. you wouldn't go over to someone's house, eat the cookies they baked to share, and then spit those cookies back in their face and start shouting about what a shitty baker they are. or maybe you would--in which case, congratulations! you are Not A Good Person.

anyway, at the end of the day, a lot of this can be boiled down to: Because ao3 exists outside the profit economy, fic writers are not influencers, and you should never be treating them as though they are. i think i see this disconnect largely with younger people just because they've maybe only ever really understood social media within this sort of influencer-consumer-culture economy, and genuinely don't understand how to interact differently with the internet. so, consider this post a call-in to reevaluate the way you interact with fic writers and the etiquette you use when it comes to engaging with fanfic on ao3! i promise that ao3 being different from social media is a very, very good thing, and also a very, very rare thing, so let's treasure it and focus on fostering community rather than trying to morph it to fit the mould of influencer-audience dynamics that we see almost everywhere else <3

#tldr: fic writers aren't influencers #stop acting like they are #it only creates problems!!!! #anyway if you have engaged in some of these behaviors that doesn't make u a bad person #it just means u should maybe shift ur perspective moving forward #capitalism is a lifeless desert that grows every day and ao3 is a little oasis #let's all enjoy it while we can #instead of trying to place it within a consumer economy #ranting and raving #txt

[obsob]

days are getting warmer but i am always warm when im with you ! !

#mine #original #i cannot even begin to express the amount of demons i had to fight. to do this drawing #i was goin 2 attach my process video but its so embarassinhg i cant skjbdskgdjks #local artist cant colour right :( #i sitll dont love it but also i will start eating thro my waalls so :3 ! here u go ! #i bought a new water botttle the other day extremely exciting stuff. AND. a bag for said water bottle so i can take it on walks :3 !!!! #eveytything else has been . normal !! #shop orders r very slow which is th same as this time period ??? as last year ? for some reason ?? #i will hopefully try n plan sm stickers soon n maybe sm new prints ??? not sure ! but either way if u want 2 buy a lil smth #ur support is greatly appreciated !!