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redjaybathood · 1 year

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You know, saw a "Battle for the Cowl should have been between Cass and Jason" post and it's a cool idea. Def check that out.

What comes to my mind, though, is - there's no way Jason going in this fight. Like, he sees Cass? He's out. Task Force Z answered this question for us, you know.

And I sincerely don't think he would have been against Cass as Batman if Cass wasn't against him as Red Hood. Batlle for the Cowl was a mess, alright? Jason was there solely to be Dick's foil, push him into the place the writers - and the DC comics in general - wanted Dick to be pushed despite Dick previously not wanting to be Batman. Like, I - and many others - have extensive headcanons making this work, and some people just, dismisse it from their memories (as you should). But that's what it was. If Jason wanted to be Batman - a better Batman than Batman - he was doing it with his Red Hood persona already.

And the last thing: no way in hell would a confrontation between them be a fight. It should be challenging to Cass if this is her story, so it should strike at her weaknesses. Like, an overly complicated plan that a fight, a physical defeat, or even imprisoment of Red Hood won't change anything for Cass.

A funny way to do it would be Jason setting up a voting poll to democratically elect Batman. Make Gotham Safe Again! and all that. The vote can even be, like, the telephone vote as a less on the nose reference to the telephone vote that killed him than what happened in Batman and Robin. The vote is not rigged or anything, Jason also wants to prove to himself as much as to Cass that his way is right and Gothamites share that view. He does campaign though, in some way, and pulls public to his side in short term.

And at first, Cass is like... I don't care. I'm already Batman, you can't fight me for it. What are you gonna do, helmet boy? And yeah, true. But - the public opinion does get to her, or interfers with her work in some way, and maybe she loses confidence in doing what she does. Like, not in the way that makes her consider whether killing is an option (I think it's better suited to her vs Shiva conflict, or another, totally unrelated conflict with Red Hood where they're both against the same guy). But in a way... is she doing enough? Is there any point in what she's doing? And she's coming up with no, it's not enough; there's a point and she's not doing any worse than Bruce did but it is still. Not enough.

So she does something, some... community outreach? Direct action? Something to tackle the three behemots: affordable housing, available jobs, and both available and affordable healthcare. With community building activities like food gardens, food banks, parks instead of parking lots, helping kids stay in schools, childcare for working parents...

And maybe she does use Jason Todd Foundation to bankroll whatever she's doing. And that's what works best. And that's what solves problems. And, you know, people of Gotham do see these efforts but they're still choosing Red Hood as the new Batman over Batgirl. Not sure how they would side if they knew that Cass Cain-Wayne is the Batgirl/Batman. I wouldn't bet my money on it? Because, yeah, The Cult. But it's not the point. The point is, Jason seeing the results, and seeing how the crime rate drops, and people's life getting easier, and being like. This is something that really would have made my life and my parents and the guys I knew, and their families', lives easier. I should also do something about that.

And he's like, calls this election thing off. And promotes (ironically) not himself but Jason Todd Foundation and Cassandra Cain-Wayne Initiative. And - helps, now, with whatever Cass is doing.

But also, he still kills whoever needs killing, because something tells me that people who're into child trafficing, for example, are not in it for affordable housing.

And Red Hood and Batman would need some level of coordination, you know. If it's possible to build a case against the worst offenders, Jason needs to keep them alive. If it's not - when what are you doing killing people, Jason, you can't kill people on not enough evidence! But if there's a trial, and the scumbag gets away because corruption or threatening jury or something else... Cass, just, backs off. Her time is finite, too, you know. She's not letting Jason kill people. She's just... being productive and efficient and using time-management skills an d... It's not like Jason leaves evidence... And... Look. Between saving people in trouble who can't save themselves, or saving people who are after people who can't save themselves from Jason? A girl can't be in two places at once, even if the girl is the Batman.

But also, the next case they're both on is the corrupt judge or cop or DA etc. So the amount of mistrials is dropping, which means next to none people Jason needs to kill.

#look cass wouldn't kill anyone (except maybe shiva???) but it doesn't mean she's under obligation to save everyone everywhere all at once #it's not physically possible #and the only way to stop red hood would be - ironically enough - to kill him #so #i say cass lets jason be when they're in the suits and they actively work together outside of it #i also think that cass is the only one who should be able to make jason go non-lethal #and it's not because of convinctions - you won't change his mind - but out of practicality #It's easier and faster if he works with her than against her #and he can always kill more people later #as a threat #or as a treat #cleaning up my drafts #cassandra cain #jason todd

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slocumjoe · 1 year

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playing on very hard difficulty, so I've brought Codsworth along instead of Dogmeat, which i never do, and I know they're polite in intention, but so many of Codsworth's lines are incredibly bitchy if your personal interpretation of your character and Codsworth's relationship is that Codsworth hates their guts

#isadora gets Codsworth to help her around the house when she gets back from China #later after a string of truly awful circumstances made by/worse by Augustijn's decisions #Isadora lets him (and his baby) move in with her because even if hes being a dipshit thats still her bestie #and at that point hes gotten a real good kick in the ass to clean his act up so shes not worried abt it #but CODSWORTH #who has been on the sidelines observing Gus's bullshit from afar #is constantly on the verge of throwing a cup at him #because even if gus betters himself codsy doesnt trust him to going back to being a menance the moment he suffers 1 ounce of turmoil #as gus is prone to doing #hes a drug addict who makes very selfish and cowardly choices that hurt others as a means of hurting himself as a one-man pity fiesta #and Codsworth loathes it and wishes mum would just send him to a doctor or rehab and not let him mooch off her anymore #this is especially noteworthy as this shouldnt be possible for a butler bot #something programmed to be patient and hospital and overly courteous #Codsworth sitting at Sanctuary crossings his finger-clamp things like *i hope that man dies no matter what*#ss; gus #ss; ivy

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halinski · 1 year

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Trigger warning for sh topic in tags, just me rambling, dont read, if you do its at your own risk of wasting your time lol 🙈

#so when i met tyler last saturday i was like...#thinking about making it my goal to not sh for a year or smth #like make a big gesture of going clean #maybe like the next time i meet him i could have been like: i've been clean since you signed my arm!!#but oh boy #i knew in the back of my mind that night that that wouldnt be possible #i was like: well maybe maybe i can just not hurt myself in the primary qay #*way #i couldn't even promise no scars #couldn't promise no blood no bruises #i can't promise shit #and now i'm here like 3 days later already ready to give up #having clear goals makes me wanna go do the exact opposite #makes me want to go worse #not like /actually/ bc if i were to literally break my fingers i couldnt work and as soon as i could i would be working he phone #and nope nopidity nope #thats the last thing im gonna do #ignore me #the sh thoughts are never easy to deal with #tyler has no idea the impact he ever had on me that i actually made it 4 months clean before #that i ever tried #and managed to stay clean #like #i used to be so obsessed i would shake and be unabke to fall asleep and would literally panic that bad things would happen if i didnt sh #and it was through derek hale that i actually attempted to stop the first time #when i was 17 #lasted 2 weeks and that was 10 years ago and im not sure i can do 2 weeks anymore again #but it was huge #it's been 16-ish years since i've been clean of physical sh for longer than 4 months #a really bad habit

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bo0zey · 1 year

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my manager has kids:(😕 but i have a new resident doctor crush soooo;)😳

#i knew i didn’t stand a chance !!!!!#also i saw my first pediatric cardiac arrest today #i was okay during the code i was glad i could be helpful i just gave out flushes lol #they didn’t make it but i had a feeling that was gonna be the outcome cuz they were already in rigor mortis when they got to us #the doctor leading the code was the one i’ve recently started talking to more n he’s like rlly friendly w everyone #i wish i knew the difference between someone being nice to me and flirting w me lol #anyways he did really good leading the code as well as the other doctors doing their best n everyone else #he wanted to hold a debriefing w everyone afterwards but i stayed back to clean up the room so when mom say her baby it #wouldn’t be as traumatizing w all the blood snd gastric contents soaked towels and garbage EVERYWHERE #i wish they’d stopped the code sooner the doctor leading the code was the first to point out the baby was in rigor right at the beginning #but obviously cuz it’s a peds case they wanna do everything they can and he literally did EVERYTHING all the code meds u could possibly orde #this stupid lady next to me who had no idea what she was talking abt was like ‘wait i think i see something on the monitor’ n im like bitch?#the baby was literally PEA they’re in fcking rigor mortis stop trying to prolong this horribly aggressive mess just let it end peacefully #baby was asystole throughout the entire code..they couldn’t even intubate him cuz his jaw was clenched so tight #anyways right after everyone agreed w the leading doctor to end it the doc like put both hands on the bed and kinda #bowed his head but i saw the pained look on his face i hope he didn’t blame himself i mean he knew from the start the baby was in rigor and #he asked everyone to give the baby a moment at the end of the code #that’s when they were all gonna go debrief but i stayed behind #anyways my supervisors were asking me if i was ok n i was like yeah bc the baby looked so much more at peace when we readied the room formom #then later the leading code doctor found me and asked if i was okay and i said was fine..i felt better knowing he was already gone before #he got to the hospital and was in literal rigor mortis with a rectal temp of 94 deg F #but i didn’t want to seem too heartless bc i could tell the code had upset him and he was talking in a more quietly #concercdndd voice like he’s usually always loud and joking around like me so :( and the fact that he stopped to talk w me privately n was #genuinely wanting to know if i was okay made me ;-; cuz im not used to being comforted?? or having my emotions validated #i was like ‘yeah im fine now haha it might all hit me later when im driving home alone at the end of the shift lol’#n he gave me a pat on the shoulder n said i did a good job ;—;#ngl i always thought he was kinda cute but i only just started talking n working w him on pts tuesday n i think he likes me????#idk bc he’s friendly n easy to get along w everyone AS AM I but idk we talked 1-1 before n i got a Vibe 😳 from him #but anyways then i got home n had pasta n talked to my fam abt my day and told them i had my first peds cardiac arrest #then all of a sudden something in me switch??i felt myself stiffen n my eyes started watering so i went to my room n ended up crying 4 20min

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weaselle · 2 months

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it was too much i had to make my own post

line cook here. ACCURATE

if you don't get the hate, here's what you don't understand.

it takes up to 2 hours to close down the kitchen.

The last 60-90 minutes before closing time you do almost no cooking because the restaurant doesn't have many people in it and you've already cooked most of their diners.

So if someone walks in during, like, the last hour, the cook is in the middle of an industrial deep clean of the kitchen.

(these numbers can vary quite a bit from place to place but i have worked several restaurants with these actual times and the concept remains the same)

Say the place closes at 10. If you wait til the restaurant is already closed to start all your cleaning duties, you'll be there until at least midnight.

More than that your boss knows that on an average night you can start your clean up as soon as the last rush ends and get out of there around 10:45, even 10:15 on a slow night if you get lucky. That means there are plenty of restaurants where if you do take until midnight the manager is going to come up to you at some point that week and ask you what went wrong that night, and you'd better have an answer.

So this example restaurant closes at 10 pm. The dinner rush ends around 8:30, and shortly after that the cook is going to start getting every single dish possible over to the dishwasher because the dishwasher always gets hit hard and late, and the machine runs for 2 full minutes and only holds so many dishes, so the way that works out is if you wait an extra 30 minutes to give the dishwasher all your stuff it can mean adding like 60 minutes to the end of his shift. And you're gonna KEEP finding shit to send to the dishpit right up until you leave probably.

all these little square and rectangle containers in this cold table have to be pulled out and changed over into new containers, replaced by new full ones, or in some cases filled from larger containers in the back, which can result in even more empty containers to send to the dishwasher.

while it's all pulled apart to do this, you have to clean up all the spilled food and sauce and juices and stuff from the joints and ledges and shelves and drip trays

Once you get your line changed over in this way, and fully stocked, anytime someone orders something that makes use of a bunch of that stuff, you have to restock and re-clean it some. It might already be covered in plastic. Some of it might already be stuck in the back to make room to take apart your cutting board counter to clean. To cook a dish isn't TOO much of a problem at this point, but you're really hoping for zero orders because you still have so much other cleaning to do.

Meanwhile the salad bar and appetizer section and server station and everybody are all doing the same thing. Even the bartenders are stocking olives and lemons and sending back whisks and stir spoons and shakers and empty 4quart storage containers that used to hold the back-up lemons and olives and things. Every section is dumping their must-be-cleaneds to the dishpit as fast as possible because early and fast is the only thing they can do to to help that dishpit not absolutely drown into overtime.

The poor dishwasher is always the last to clock out, soaking wet and exhausted.

Around this time you probably scrub the flat top, which has turned black from cooked on grease and is still about 500 degrees. Line cooks are divided in opinion on water-based or oil based cleaning methods for this, but they all involve scrubbing with (usually) a brick of pumice stone using every ounce of your strength while you try not to burn yourself

you scrub it from fully blackened to gleaming silver and now if somebody orders something that needs the flat top to cook, you can either fuck up your cleaning job or fake it in a couple frying pans and pass that tiny fuck you down to your dishwasher (who usually understands, especially if you help them take the garbage out or clean your own floor drain later)

If there's deep fried stuff on the menu then the fryers have to be cleaned out, which includes straining the oil out into enormous and super-heavy pots full of oil so hot that if you spill on yourself then it's probably a hospital visit and if you slip and fall face first into it it'll be the last thing you ever do.

Then you gotta scrub out the fryer. Like you gotta take the (hot) screen out and reach your arm down into the weird rounded pipes and curved areas (so hot, burn you if you brush against them hot) and scrub off whatever is down there

Depending on your kitchen you might have to do up to four of these. Then you'll have to pour the (dangerously hot) oil back in

oh, and if you didn't dry the pipes and get ALL the water out of the trap and tank?

water reacts with hot oil in a sort of mentos and coke way that can send a tidal wave of oil past the open flame of the pilot light ...HUGE dangerous mess and/or burn down the kitchen if the oil lights up.

Unless! If the oil has been used too hard and needs to be changed, it's time to carry those open topped super heavy pots full of will-kill-you-hot oil and dump them in the barrel outside by the dumpsters so you can put room temp fresh oil in the fryers. whew!

The clean up is not just some light wiping down that can be easily interrupted, is what i'm saying.

You might have to do some kind of walk-in duty (moving around 50lb cases of lettuce and 50lb bags of onions to get to the stacks of five gallon buckets full of salad dressings and sauces to move so you can reach the giant metal pots and bus tubs full of prep and get it all organized and make sure it's all labeled and i have to stop now i'm having flashbacks)

THE POINT IS

by 15 or however many minutes to close, the line cook is doing an intense deep clean and probably has the whole stove taken apart to detail.

For some industrial stoves this means lifting off large cast iron plates that weigh like 20 lbs each and are still quite hot. Whatever metal burners are on there, you gotta take off and clean, you can see here the lines that indicate the large thick cast iron rectangles that sit on top of the burners to allow heavy pots to rest on. Those five (each has one front burner hole and one back burner hole, see?) have to be lifted off and cleaned with soap and a wire brush usually, and then the underneath area also has to be cleaned because a lot of shit falls through the burner holes on a busy night.

if you didn't do it when you did the flat top you have to do the grease trap (which can be like a full five minutes and is always disgusting).. You gotta clean out all the little gas jets in each burner with a wire or something so the burners all flame evenly, and sometimes you have to remove some of the natural gas piping that connects the burners to access where you have to clean.

you gotta clean out the bottom of the oven and the wire racks, and, oh gods, you gotta take down the filter vents from the hood fans above the stove.

See all the lined parts along the top of the wall?

those are hood vents, and as they pull air up they also pull a lot of grease and they have to be taken down and cleaned, then you gotta climb up there and scrub where they go before you put them back...

And then there's the mopping and floor drains and...

Anyway, that's what the line cook is doing when you walk in fifteen minutes before closing and order something that needs to be cooked on that stove. They are doing an entire industrial cleaning of a professional kitchen.

In some restaurants maybe one or two of these jobs will be every other night or even only twice a week, but in many, possibly most kitchens, ALL of these things happen EVERY night. You don't want to leave any food mess that might attract insects or rodents for one thing, so a really good kitchen is as close to brand new as you can get it every night.

IF YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO ORDER SOMETHING ANYWAY, HERE IS WHAT TO DO

open with an apology and ask the server to go ask what the cook would prefer you to order.

Any good server will already know what the cook is hoping for and what will make their line cook go into the walk in and scream. If it's significantly less than an hour to close and they say some variant of "oh anything is fine" they are either telling the lie their boss wants them to say, or they actually do not know what their line cook wants, and you can either use human connection and a conspiratorial just-between-us tone to get them to drop the customer-is-always-right act, or get them to actually go ask the cook.

It might be as specific as "the lasagna is easiest on the kitchen" or it might be a simple guideline like "nothing that requires the flat top" or "any of the sautés are easy" but a good line cook will probably have a system for if they have to make a couple of the most popular items after they start their close, so the answer is likely to include something most people like and you should be good to order that.

but for the love of all that's holy, please only do so at great need. Leave that last 30-60 minutes to the truly desperate and the crew's duties.

#long post #sorry #i just have a lot of DO PEOPLE UNDERSTAND feelings left over from all my years in restaurants #restaurants #line cook #service industry

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inthefallofasparrow · 2 years

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In the town where I grew up, there was a large statue in one of the parks, of a famous historical white colonizer. I'm not going to say who specifically, suffice it to say that it was someone who wasn't worth memorializing for their deeds. And as you can imagine, this statue was a frequent target of vandalism, with paint or toilet paper or eggs on multiple occasions. Now, the local council was generally pretty lax when it came to repairing potholes or other public damage in the town, but every time, 24 hours after this particular statue was hit, the same person would always appear in a Hi-Vis vest, hat, mask and sunglasses, carrying a bucket of water, and wash it clean. They would do it as quickly as possible, but always made sure the face and the name carved at the bottom were generously scrubbed. This only encouraged people to do it again, and so it became a vicious cycle.

Within a year, the statue had sustained so much damage that it was unrecognizable and the lettering unreadable, so eventually the council came and took it down. Also apparently, the person in the Hi-Vis vest didn't even work for the council. They were supposedly just some 'good samaritan' who cleaned it, often before the council even discovered it needed cleaning, so they just let them do it and ignored the problem. They didn't bother putting the statue up again.

Much later, we found out that the anonymous 'samaritan' had been deliberately washing the statue with a bucket of saltwater, which had dramatically corroded it, causing irreversible accumulative damage far worse than spray paint ever would have done. It's even theorized that they were also often the one spray-painting it, just so that they had an excuse to come back after a day to wash it.

#don't get any ideas

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lilithland · 3 months

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imagine you’re running late, trying to move some laundry, because of course as the inferior sex, you do the cooking and the cleaning

you’re almost done moving your clothes when you see your favorite sock stuck in the back of the machine, you try to stick your arm as far into the machine as possible but you still can’t reach the sock

you maneuver your body until your head and both arms are in the machine, you successfully grab your sock but when you go to pull your body out of the machine you find you are stuck

you wiggle and squirm but can’t seem to get out of the washing machine

your partner was supposed to pick you up for a date later (you had left them a little note hoping to suprise them when they got home) so you knew eventually someone would come to your rescue

20 minutes later you’re scared shitless when you hear a loud knock at your door, it can’t possibly be your partner because they have a key and it’s way too early for them to be back

you start to panic a little but try to ration that a burglar wouldn’t try to knock first before entering, you hear the loud knock again followed by your door opening

“maintenance”

you don’t know if you should holler for help or pray to god that they don’t enter your laundry room, you’re beyond humiliated at your predicament

luck was not on your side, you hear heavy footsteps approach you, you hear a low whistle behind you

“and what do we have here?” rumbles a deep voice

you swallow your pride, “hi, um, sorry about this, wo-would you be able to help me … please?”

large hands grab your hips, you naively think you’re about to be set free

when instead of attempting to pull you out of the machine, one hand retracts and lands a hard smack on your ass

you scream in pain and jolt a little in the machine

“what the hell is wrong with you?!” you scream trying harder to wiggle your way out

“well sweetheart, when i enter a house and find a note that says i can’t wait for all the dirty things you want to do to me and then find a hot babe with an incredible ass on display, i have to oblige and give them the fucking of a lifetime”

you still at his words, he had found the note you left for your partner, he thinks you set up this elaborate plan to have wild sex with a stranger

“no you don’t understand that was meant for my partner i am seriously stuck please help me get out” you start pleading and begging

“sure, and i’m sure you’re gonna keep screaming no and for me to stop, even while your cunt squeezes and cums on my hard cock over and over again, is that the game we’re gonna play tonight sweetheart?”

you really start to thrash inside the machine, it doesn’t matter what you say, this stranger is about to r4pe your tiny holes

he shushes you as he continues to grope your ass with his giant hands

he flips the skirt you had been wearing up over your ass, giving him a perfect view of your thong

your boobs hadn’t quite made it into the machine, he yanks your tank top down freeing your titties, smushing them against the cold machine

the cold instantly makes your nipples hard and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips

“oh is someone finally getting excited?”

the strangers rough hands pinch your nipples as you start back up your protests of no’s

he gives your titties a rough smack and you scream and jolt in the machine again

he alternates between painful pinching and rough slapping, you start crying with how rough he’s being

“doesn’t matter how much you protest princess, i know you’ll be soaked when i go check on your princess parts again”

you refuse to believe him, but when his hands stop abusing your tits and go to remove your thong, you can feel the sticky trail being pulled from you

you feel his rough fingers collecting the juices at your enterance, the embarrassment of it all makes you leak around his hand even more

he wipes your girl juice along your thighs and all over your ass, the more his fingers just barely touch your cunnie to collect more, the more you drip for him

you hate how your body is betraying you

he removes his fingers and you hear some shuffling, you emotionally try to prepare yourself to be thrusted in to

you weren’t expecting to feel a wet tongue

you werent expecting to feel a wet tongue eating out your ass

you try to squirm but in the process accidentally push back more onto his tongue

his big hands deliver a hard smack to your thighs before pinning them down and holding them in place

“i can also go in dry baby doll”

you totally still at the implication he’s going to fuck your ass

you whimper and cry more

he removes one hand from your thigh and starts to play with your inferiority hole while he continues to eat out your asshole, he alternates between rubbing your nub, a little too hard, and roughly fingering your fuck hole

you don’t know how but his rough administrations make you have cummies

you clench the fingers inside you tightly as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm

before he stands he spits a glob of saliva right on top of your asshole

seconds later he’s rubbing his hard cock up and down your slit, collecting all of your girl juices as you continue to leak

without warning he starts to slowly and painfully shove his dick into you

each inch is excruciatingly painful and his dick seems to go on forever and ever

by the time he bottoms out you think you might pass out, there has to be at least eight inches of dick in your freshly r4ped asshole

he stills for a moment and decides to abuse your body some more while you adjust to his length

he smacks your ass and your titties, runs your overstimulated clit too hard and too fast

when he’s done playing with your body he grips your hips painfully and begins to piston in and out of your ass

he sets a brutal pace from the start, roughly fucking you against the washing machine

your abused and sensitive tits sway with each thrust, causing them to smack against the machine over and over again

you lose track of time, only knowing the sensation of your asshole being abused

without warning you hear a guttural grunt and feel a warmth deep in your gut

the maintenance man pulls out with a plop

“don’t worry baby, i’ll make sure to get a video of your gaping asshole leaking my hot sperm into your delicious cunt”

you’re horrified at every aspect of what he just said, your stomach churning at that the thought of such a video getting uploaded to the internet

as he said, you can feel the cum leaking out of your open asshole, slowly dripping towards your inferiority hole

as the sperm starts to pool, his fingers are on you again

or rather in you, his fingers easily slide into your gaping asshole, collecting his own jizz

to your continued horror he then shoves his fingers deep into your cunt, fucking his cum into the proper fuck hole

you aren’t on any birth control

his fingers move in and out of you slowly, you’re humiliatingly wet so he has no problem getting a few in you

“should i cum in your pussy next or try to get my fist in your ass?”

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shadwife · 11 months

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Whatever the music equivalent to writer’s block is is so frustrating.

#I think it’s worse than regular writer’s block because like #when I’m writing I can just shrug my shoulders and daydream more while I clean or something and come back to it later but #music GOD it feels like it’s on the tip of my tongue or like fingers in this case #like no no no I know how this part can go give me a second #and it never comes unless it’s like…. 3am #or like I come up with 30 possibilities and hate all of them and scrap it

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riaki · 5 months

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ur highschool bully gojo was chefs kiss 💋 what do u think about them going to the same college and taking the same classes?? and the reader sitting next/talking to some other guy and satoru gets jealous?? arwahhhshdhshshs so many possibilities, i hope u continue writing it!!

hi nonnie !! thank you so much :) this is ur official part 2 ! i was struggling to think up some possibilities but this helped a lot :oo | read part 1 here ! -> cw: swearing, jealousy, i let it get fic length oops

(former) highschoolbully!gojo on the brain again… like. when you end up seeing him again however many months later, and you can tell that he’s changed. it’s not like its immediately obvious to anyone who doesn’t really know him like you (used to); but he’s a little softer-spoken and his smiles seem nine times more genuine. it’s not a hundred percent; the kind that really lights up his face instead of just barely falling short of his stark blue eyes, but it's something.

of course, you have nothing to base it off of, because when you do inevitably see him again it's the very definition of meet ugly.

college is a new frontier, but its also a clean slate. its your first time going into something so new without your old bestfriend at your side, but some faint flickering thought reminds you that it might be better that way. but the universe is against you from the very first day, when youre gettin yourself some coffee from the same chain you did the morning of that fateful presentation so many moons ago. you're too busy thinking to yourself what kind of strange parting ritual it is to relive your trauma to notice the lanky, white-haired boy who hits his head on the chiming bell over the doorway. people are giggling around you n sighing dreamily but youre too deep in the music pumping through your headphones to notice and your eyes are glued to the class schedule on your phone, trying to ensure you dont get lost on the first day when—

you blink and your ass is flat on the dirty floor of the coffee shop, and the first thing you register is that your stomach is soaked and burning. you'd spilled your coffee. it takes you a moment to realize, but when you do you're pissed. so you quickly get to your feet, trying to reign in what little of your ego you have left to give the offender who bumped into you a piece of your mind as you look up, then..

how unlucky do you have to be?

just like that, satoru's slid himself back into your life, after ramming through its locked gates. you forget that he always forgets the point of keys, both when it comes to his apartment (which you still have the spare key of in case of emergencies), and the door to your heart. to rub salt in the wound, the only thing that's stained with your coffee order are his shoes, which look like they cost three weeks of your old job salary, but it's all over your shirt. of course it is. because why not? make it look like you tripped and fell into a patch of mud on your way to the lecture hall and tack on an unwelcome reunion with your ex-bestfriend.

to you, it's like the cloud of gloom from your highschool youth has resettled over your head like a swarm of gnats on a dreary, hot summer day. the stars always seem to skew and misalign themselves for you. but for satoru, the stars have handed him one of those huge swirly lollipops that you only ever see being paraded about by toddlers. he recovers almost instantly, trading the burn on his feet and the way it sours your expression like he's just squirted pure citric acid into your throat for a pleasant burn of his own on his cheeks. but it's whatever. girls seem to like it when he blushes, for some reason. he won't question it, if it works on the only one he cares about.

he holds his hand out, ready to help you out like the good samaritan he's become— and it's like a real burn to his heart this time when you ignore it and stand up on your own, refusing to look up and meet his pleading gaze. might as well have taken an iron stoker right out of the fire and jabbed him with it. but he's gojo satoru! he won't be defeated by this one mere, maybe very significant reunion. he's got stamina.

so he offers to buy you a new drink, feels his heart sink when you shake your head (can't even spare a little 'no' in his direction), and talks enough for the both of you when you leave the dingy little store make your way down to campus and the lecture building. you clearly don't want to see him, but he ignores that in exchange to notice the way you shiver every so often. the previously searing-hot coffee that stains your shirt turns cold fast, and moisture n wind don't mix well. he wishes he could offer you some of his own warm coffee, no doubt sickeningly sweet, but he has some sensitivity now, apparently. so, in a brash moment, he decides to take his blazer off and drape it over your shoulders instead.

when you cross the threshold between city and campus, you expect him to yank it off your back and be on his merry way. but he keeps walking next to you, so you walk a little faster, and you absolutely loathe the cheeky little grin that curves the corners of his lips up to show a glint of teeth when he effortlessly keeps up. you curse his long legs when you find yourself winded, but at least you can lose him when you get there.

or, that's what you think. once again, your constellations break themselves to rebuild anew for satoru. you're about to call him a stalker when he follows you all the way to your classroom with that smirk that's growing exponentially until— oh, no.

your phone that's been on the schedule up until now desperately scrolls to the roster— and there it is. he's in your class. needless to say, not another word goes between you as you stomp in and take a seat. luckily for you, you've already corresponded with your roommate's brother (who's annoyingly cute, satoru notices) and agreed to sit next to each other. satoru takes the seat right above you and never stops kicking his freakishly long legs against the wood the entire time.

so yeah, it's obvious he's not a saint; he still has that undoable ego and he's cocky as fuck (as you have the misfortune of finding out when he quickly bullies your professor), but there's a certain familiarity in that no matter how ugly it might appear to others. and if you asked (which he really, really hopes you will someday), he doesn't hang around douchebags who use kids' foreheads for ashtrays and treat girls like they're candy from a glittery pez dispenser. and at least he's switched harassment targets. even though he has an overwhelming sense of superiority over others and never has his lips together for more than five seconds, and even though he has this hellish habit of clicking his pen whenever he's not talking (or when someone else is), it seems like he's changed.

and over time, you gradually find yourself warming up to him. the spunkiness that used to get on your nerves ceaselessly becomes an object of endearment, and you don't really mind the way he never seems to stop moving anymore. it's a nice sort of distraction in the lifeless still of the lecture hall, albeit the pen clicking still drives you near insanity. you notice he always does it obnoxiously and quickly when you're talking to your roommate's brother, but you ignore it.

and for satoru? he hates that he can kinda sorta really tell that you're the only one who can read him like he's a damn book, cus you slowly start to soften up in the nostalgia of his presence like cold playdough between warm fingers that tell you he may have finally caught you again after letting you slip the first time. and he notices it. this time, he's determined not to let you be the one that got away again. but youre really giving him a shit time outta it with the way you constantly entertain the guy who always has his breath in your face.

yeah, he's got a cute face that's sunkissed by freckles. yeah, his hair looks like he models for shampoo companies. and fuck, he has a nice voice. but what of it? satoru's the one with the mesmerizing blue irises and the cloudy white hair your professor wishes he had instead of sad little wisps of old age. still, as chilly days turn into frigid weeks, he gets the perfect backseat angle of the growing relationship between the two of you. the boy's kinda dumb so you copy off of satoru’s work when you need to (he has to hide the 1-0 scoreboard between him and the guy on a sticky note from you when you take his notes), but said guy’s always buying you stuff and lending you erasers and laughing when you flick the shavings at the annoying girl who never stops whispering in the front of the room.

satoru tries to act unbothered, and he almost convinces everyone. including himself. but the angry, burning knot in his chest that's entirely different from coffee stains suggests something more. that should be him at your side. him, making balls of paper with rude scribbles and silly doodles to throw at the people he knows you don't like. him, surprising you with little gifts and the cheap trinkets he knows you adore so much instead of all the luxury things he could afford. there's no way this punk could possibly measure up to him, right? but at least you and satoru are well on your way to becoming friends again. not as close as you used to be, but it's something. substantial. and he's learned to be patient in the time you've been gone.

but he'd be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn't tired of it. he’s endlessly plagued with thoughts of increasing intensity— first, it starts out with just you. only you. the way he likes it. the way he likes your face, and your pretty eyes and your gorgeous lips and your soft hair and your figure and the complimenting clothes you wear. but it takes a turn; thoughts turn into dreams that turn into fantasies and he's lying when he says he doesn't enjoy them when he accidentally lets it slip during a group study session— and it’s all fine— but then, that guy appears. the brat who seems to sit a centimeter closer to you with each coming day. not only does he haunt satoru in real life, he’s tormenting his dreams, too. tainting the image of beautiful you.

needless to say, satoru starts to wake up with his hands gripping his damp pillow like he's choking it, acutely aware of the sweat sliding down his neck and over his chest as he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the dorm's air conditioner run and thinking of what it'd be like for dreams (the ones where he replaces the boy) to become reality.

it's a buildup. and soon, he reaches the apex; it's like a rollercoaster, that stomach-twisting moment when you reach the top of the rail that points to the steep descent downward. but this time, he hopes it's a thrill he gets instead of the usual falling fright; the one he got when he realized he’d slipped between your fingers in highschool.

and satoru finally comes to a grinding halt at the top of the ride one breezy fall day when he decides he wants you back in his life after you smile brightly at him and wave goodbye for the day. he’s tired of you having one foot in and one foot out of his heart; he wants, needs more. he always has, he realizes.

so he’s thinking about you and how to approach the feelings he’s realized during those long lectures, and one morning he comes up with some semblance of a plan when he’s high on the sugar from the fruit tea you bought him that morning. and he hopes that, by the end of it, he'll leave your apartment with your hand in his currently empty one, chilled with the remnants of cold condensation from the bottle.

soon enough, satoru finds himself extinguishing his nerves and raising a tense fist to knock on the door with nothing but the clothes on his back and a flimsy plan to ask you out on a midterm study sesh and maybe even a date, but he stops when he realizes it’s slightly ajar. a brief thought of what look might be on your face when he surprises you crosses his mind, so he lets himself in quietly, because he knows every single floorboard that creaks like the back of his palm from his childhood. he’s hit with a wave of warmth and an achingly familiar scent that twists at his heart, and your apartment is cozy and safe and it screams you and he thinks he catches sight of his jacket slung across the back of the couch in your living room, but he’s not sure so he takes a step forward and—

he’s greeted with the sight of that stupid guy with the nice hair and the freckles, and it makes his heart drop. but even worse, he’s kissing you and his arms are winding around your waist but you’re kissing him back with a slight hesitation that’s blinded to satoru by his shock and the fingers he thought would end up in his own tonight card through the boy’s hair and your lips glisten with the strawberry-kiwi flavored gloss he watched the boy give you a few days back and his world is turning red and he feels like his throat is constricting and he can’t breathe—

and he doesn’t even realize you’ve parted lips and you’re calling his name through the newfound tightness of his chest and the painful ringing in his ears thats even louder than any silence of a lecture hall, or the void that should’ve been filled with your voice during the time you were apart. but now satoru realizes he’d take that any fucking chance to have that again because it’s so much better than what he’s stuck with now. having you, but not really having you, because you’re there but you’re someone else’s and you’re not his and he isn’t yours. the best thing he could ever hope for was for you to own an article of his clothing and a piece of his shattered heart, broken into a million fragments. some cruel voice in his buzzing head reminds him to change the scoreboard to 0-100.

and he could buy you cheap hot coffee or earn your smiles from scrunched up paper balls or even hear your laugh with crude jokes, but there’s no point when he realizes he can’t buy you with caffeine or earn you with hitting the back of people’s heads with his bio notes or have you and your laugh all to himself anymore.

it’s almost pathetic, the way satoru’s voice cracks and changes. the look of unadulterated concern on the face of the boy who stole your lips just adds fuel to the fire.

“gojo? what are you doing here— hey, are you okay? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

he noticed you’d stopped calling him satoru a few weeks back. he should’ve seen it coming.

“huh? oh, yeah. i’m good. i think you’re the one hallucinating.”

he’d never told a bigger lie in his life.

satoru had left after excusing himself for intruding. how very unlike him to be so polite, you think.

so in the end, he leaves your apartment with something in his hand, after all. but it's not your own— just his blazer that you’d given back to him before he stepped out the door, taunting him with the faint scent of coffee and lingering perfume. his hope was foolish, so it seems. it’s too bad, he thinks. if it were him, he would’ve sandwiched you against your counter while he kissed. but it wasn’t. apparently, it was your turn for your stars to align at the price of his.

and so, gojo satoru, the boy force-turned man with a chipped ego and a completely broken heart, loses you again.

bonus bonus.. part 2….

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bet-on-me-13 · 3 months

Text

The Villains Daughter

So! Years ago, back when the Justice League was only just starting out, only a year or two after their initial team-up, they had one of their biggest battles to date. A group of Extra-Dimensional Beings had burst into their reality, hellbent on destroying a Government Facility and the nearby small town in Illinois.

They barely managed to beat the Invading Army back, although the Government Facility and a part of the nearby Town had been destroyed in the battle.

Later, they would learn about what had happened. Apparently the Government Base, called a GIW Facility, had managed to finally Crack the secret to Interdimensional Travel a few days earlier. Unfortunately, they had opened a Portal into a Dimension known as the Ghost Zone, ruled over by a Tyrant King who wanted to enslaved all world under him. Their Breaching of the GZ had alerted the Tyrant King to the existence of their Dimension, and he had launched an immediate Invasion to try and take it over.

And the evidence supported this.

Wonder Woman shared Legends of her People, telling that their Founding Ancestor had fled the rule of a Tyrant King when she passed into the Afterlife.

Zatara shared his Magic Tomes, showing them passages detailing the horrific Rule of the Tyrant King of the Infinite Realms.

They even asked Boston Brand, the Deadman and resident Ghost about it. He hadn't been the the Ghost Zone in Years, but even he told them that he had personally fled the Tyrant King.

And they also learned that when the Tyrant King set his eyes on something, he did not falter on his Warpath to acquire it. The Tyrant King, Pariah Dark, would be back for their World, again and again.

And they needed to be prepared. This Battle was what kickstarted their true Commitment to the idea of a Team. They knew they could not defeat Pariah Dark alone, so they needed to remain as a Team.

But there was another thing that came about from the Battle.

While the JLA had been helping clean up, Wonder Woman came across a strange sight. A Baby had been left in the rubble of the GIW Building.

She asked around, investigated, and did all she could to find the babies parents. At first she thought that one of the GIW Agents had brought their kid to work that day, but their records indicated that none of the Agents had children of that Age. And Neither did any of the other workers who worked on the base, like the Janitors or the Kitchen Staff. And of they did, all of their children were accounted for.

She eventually came to the conclusion that the Baby must belong to somebody in the nearby Town, but that lead led nowhere either.

She finally came to the conclusion that the Baby's parents must have died in the Invasion, a very unfortunate but very real possibility. She was going to place her into the System, but over the course of her investigation she had grown fond of the Child.

She decided to Adopt the baby herself. She didn't know the child's name, so she had to come up with a new one.

"How do you like the name, Stella?"

The baby gurgled in delight.

...

Over the next decade of their Teams Existence, the Justice League had to fend off the Legions of the Ghost King's Army many more times. It seemed that Pariah had grown wise to the fact that they were the ones defending the Human Realm, as almost all of the later attacks were directed on them personally.

It made sense, they were the First Line of Defense against his Armies, if he managed to defeat them, their World would soon fall.

But they dealt with the attacks as they came. They had made it their mission to defend their Home from the Forced of Pariah Darks Army, and they would not falter now, or ever.

In the case of Wonder Woman, he Daughter had grown to be a fine little lady. Stella had eventually developed Powers similar to her mother, in that she could fly and had super strength, and had begged to be trained as a Hero.

And who was Diana to deny her Daughter her greatest wish? Over the next 5 years, Diana trained Stella in the ways of the Amazon's. Then, when Stella was 15, she had her join the newly formed Young Justice.

She made a great group of friends on that Team, and even started going by Ellie as a Nickname. Her best friend was by far Conner, though she didn't know why she felt such a strong connection to him? It felt like she could relate to him, but her situation was completely different?

Ah well, her Mom wouldn't mind having another kid, would she? She always wanted a Brother!

...

Meanwhile in the Ghost Zone, the Ghost King was getting anxious. After 15 years, his Agents in the Human Realm had finally managed to set up the Ritual needed to Summon Him into the Human Realm.

Who knew that accepting the Ghost King's Throne would bar him from entering the Human Realm through normal Means? He couldn't even use the Portal, he needed to be summoned or he simply wouldn't be able to leave his new home dimension.

But now, it was almost time. Just another year or two, and he would finally be able to enter the Human Realm. He would finally be able to Find Her. His Daugther.

Danny would finally be able to reunite with his daughter, Ellie.

#Dpxdc #Dp x dc #Dcxdp #Dc x dp #Danny Phantom #Dc #Dcu #Justice League #Wonder Woman #Diana adopts Ellie #Ellie was kidnapped by the GIW #Ellie was deaged so her Core would be able to grow alongside her Body #She doesn't know she even has powers aside from her flight and strength #They all just think that he is an unregistered classification of Metahuman and that's why her blood work didn't come back with a Meta Gene #Ellie Joins Young Justice #She is extremely uncomfortable when Superman rejects Connor but she doesn't know why #The Justice League thinks that Danny is a Villain #They think that he is Pariah Dark #Just under a new name #The whole world thinks that Danny is the greatest Supervillain to ever live #Including Ellie #She does not react well when she finds out that the World Greatest Evil is her Dad #Especially since she doesn't have the context #Danny attacked the JLA because she could sense that they had his daughter #He thought they were working with the GIW

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