*long, heavy sigh* Anyone want to tag along?
That Supiadoll human ear? The one that went flinging off into the sunset in my living room? I have torn the entire living room apart. I have searched through every box (it's much cleaner in there now). I have run the magnet-on-stick under the couch and between the cushions. I STILL can't find the damn thing.
I know that as soon as I order another set, it will turn up. But I am a doll parts completionist. It is driving me batty that I have only one ear.
So. The ears are like $10, and shipping is $30. Anyone else want something small from Supiadoll and want to tag along? If I'm going to spend $30 on shipping, I want my order to be at least $30, too.
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A Persuasive Argument - dpxdc
"Great!" Danny says, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention. The dinner table falls silent as everyone looks towards him. It's a full house today and, honestly, Danny's a little nervous. "I'm sure you're all wondering why I gathered you here today."
"It's dinnertime. In our house." Duke mutters, while doing a very bad job of concealing his yawn. He holds his fork poised over the braised beef, but, just like everyone else, still looks towards Danny before tucking in. It's intriguing enough to wait.
"Yeah, no one misses Alfie's dinner." Dick says, with a brilliant smile that Danny can't help but return.
"Precisely! What better time to talk to you all than when you're all actually here!"
"Wait, I thought you came round to work on our English essays?" Tim asks, blinking owlishly.
"I'm afraid I've lured you here under false pretences, Tim."
"This is where I live."
"I would still really appreciate help on that essay though, I mean, what the hell is Hamlet even about? I just don't get that old time-y language, like 'Hark! A ghost hath killed me!' - absolute rubbish, what does that even mean?"
"The ghost never kills anyone in Hamlet, he's there to tell Hamlet that he was murdered. Have you actually read it?"
"No, but it sounds like you have. Tim, I want this guy to help me with my essay instead. I know for a fact that you haven't read Hamlet, either."
"So? We don't need Jason, I've read the Sparknotes."
"Hi Jason, I'm Danny, pleasure to meet you, summarise Hamlet in three sentences or less."
"Am I auditioning to help you write your essays? I can't believe you’ve gone through your whole school life without reading it, it’s good!"
"Hamlet, along with a number of other classics, was banned in our house because it portrayed ghosts as intelligent and sympathetic beings rather than evil, animalistic beasts. I didn’t even get to see The Muppet's Christmas Carol until last year with Tim! It was surprisingly good, and I hate Christmas because everyone always argued and it sucked. But we're getting off topic. I—"
"No, no, please go back to that, because what the fu—"
"Boys, please." Bruce interrupts, looking to the world as if he wants to hang his head in his hands. "Danny, you were about to say something?"
"Oh, yeah, Mr. Wayne! Thanks!"
"Please, call me Bruce."
"Well, that very succinctly brings me to my point, because I'd actually really like to call you dad."
Nobody says a word. Nobody even blinks, all as shocked as the other, watching open-mouthed as Danny pulls his laptop out from beside his chair. Bruce can definitely feel a headache coming on.
"Before you say anything, I've prepared a 69 slide PowerPoint presentation on why you, Bruce Wayne, should adopt me, Danny Last-Name-Pending. Please save your questions, comments, and verdict until the end, thank you."
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Danny is overworked, over stressed, and he may have just pushed himself a little too hard.
He's been staying up all night, only to go to school, he's always looking over his shoulder for his parents weapons or a ghost attack or a Vlad attack, and there's only so much stress the human body can take before it just tries to force you to slow down.
Unfortunately for Danny, this happens as he's walking the streets of Metropolis while his parents are at a convention.
He starts to see double, can't really tell if he's touching the ground anymore, and runs into a massive chest. He looks up and sees black hair and blue eyes wearing a weird suit.
"Oh, hey dad." Is all he manages to say before he passes out in the man's arms.
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grown-ass orphan retraumatizes tiny child orphan via constantly looking like he's about to kill someone and/or himself regardless of his actual mood or intent
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“Stranger, what I say is short. Stand and read over it. This is the hardly beautiful tomb of a beautiful woman. Her parents called her Claudia. She loved her husband with all her heart. She had two sons, one of whom she leaves on earth, the other she placed under it. With pleasant conversing but respectable gait she cared for her home and made wool. I have spoken. Move along.”
Roman epitaph CIL 06.15346
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