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[conspiracy-crows]

One of my favorite tropes is character with a nasty toxic personality who tries very hard to do the right thing anyway

[conspiracy-crows]

Don't mind me, just thinking about Mr. Soup and the little Suvi. "Soup" fitting into the wizard naming conventions. Little Suvi seeing this happy little spirit with a bowl and giving him a name that perhaps reminded her of home. Ame hearing it and accepting it as a fact, maybe even forgetting it was Suvi from whom the name came from. And of course, the spirit himself, the old guardian hearing this little girl calling him a name that smelt of rules and tall spires and deserts and magic bound and shaped and used to exact specification, but also of homesickness of love of parent's embrace. And instead of recoiling and shunning the title, accepting it as one of his own. "I am known by many names. And one of them is Mr. Soup." Because who would he be to refuse a gift so earnestly given?

[conspiracy-crows]

When I was a kid, maybe 14 or so (which is, you know, 20+ years ago), I belonged to a Yahoo! mailing list for an anime called Gundam Wing. It was mostly populated by other teens, of varying ages, as it was started by a teen and her friends. Eventually it migrated, when Yahoo! groups started as forums, and even branched off into non-GW related stuff in a second forum.

One of the things I remember the most clearly is the oldest person in the group. Her name was Steelsong. She was a 40-something Dom with a sub whose name we knew even though we knew nothing else. She ran her own fanfic archive because the web was still handmade HTML and navigated in webrings and I’m pretty sure Google didn’t exist or was only barely, barely launched and not well known. She was kind and patient and we loved her. She treated everyone on the group with the respect given any adult, even though most of the rest of the world was still treating us like we were children. Not teenagers even, but children. She never once condescended to any of us, never made our youth a barrier to her respect, never treated us like we were incapable of being full people or like we were less than her because we were young.

I remember that she hosted our fanfiction, as absolutely terrible as it was (and I still have some of it, I am WELL aware of how cringingly terrible it is, just absolute nonsense garbage), right there alongside of other fic that was soul-achingly beautiful. Not a separate section for her friends or for kids, just right there like we were good enough to feature alongside other authors. I never once received crit from her that I didn’t ask for, only support. Only love. I am still writing today partly because Steel was so kind about our fic, fanfic and original.

I remember that when I started doing clay sculpture, she commissioned a tiny pair of dragons from me, to support me doing artwork. She sent a check my mom cashed for me, and my mom helped me mail it when it was finished. It broke in transit, and Steel assured me that she mended it and that it was still beautiful. It was a small gold dragon curled up with a small silver dragon.

I remember that her patience knew no bounds. I remember that she was there for us, regardless of reason. When we wanted to know silly things like what to do with a single AA battery, she answered. When we had serious questions about sex, she answered.  When we had questions about writing, she taught us. When one of our group members, a young gay teen in Australia, ended up in the hospital and then stopped making posts, and we all knew what had happened, she let us talk to her about it because we couldn’t go to our own parents, even though we had just lost a friend.

She was not a replacement to my parents, but she was an extra parent, in some ways. A friend, certainly, but someone that had been through more life than we had and was willing to pass on knowledge if we asked for it. Someone older that we trusted with things that were too uncomfortable to go to our parents or teachers or whatever about, because we already knew she wasn’t going to judge us or something, and that we would get an honest answer.

I don’t know why I’m remembering this so hard tonight, and I’m not sure if there’s a point to sharing this, except that I know she’s gone now. She was ill the last time we spoke, and her site went down a long time ago, and I miss her. She was a huge influence on my life, then and now. She was hope, for me, that life as an adult didn’t have to be boring, it wouldn’t have to mean giving up the things I loved and Becoming Only Responsible With No Fun. Her presence meant I had hope I could still write and play with friends even when I wasn’t ‘a kid’ anymore. And she’s gone, and I miss her, and I wanted to share her from the perspective of youth, and the perspective over twenty years later has provided me.

And I think of her, when people go off about older folks being in fandom with younger folks. I’m an older folks now, or at least middle aged folks because there are certainly folks older than me still, but I wasn’t always. I’ve been here since i was a younger folks, and I know how much Steel’s presence and support meant to me, how much she helped not just me but everyone on that group. And I think of the people saying older folks don’t belong in fandom, and that they shouldn’t interact with younger folks at all, and I just think… I can’t agree. I needed that kind of solid presence in my life back then and even at the age I am now, I need the folks older than me to stay. I want them here.

So I guess, like, if you’re here and you’re 40 or 50 or 60 or 70 or 80 or whatever, I want you here in fandom with me, still. Your presence here is a comfort. It is hope. It is a reminder that life will continue to be fun, even as I get older, myself. And if you’re younger and you have this sort of elder in your groups, I hope that they are like Steel. I hope they are kind and patient and supportive, and that knowing them gives you hope for your own future. I hope in twenty years you look back and remember them fondly.

[conspiracy-crows]

fantasy high text posts 2/?

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(for the purposes of this poll, there is no monkey's paw situation: the chore you pick stays the same level of difficulty/grossness/etc. as it normally is for you, and you only have to do it as often as you want to. the chores you don't pick are magically done for you exactly the way you'd want them to be, just with zero effort on your part.)

[conspiracy-crows]

Another argument against outdoor cats is that sometimes it'll be raining at 1am and the wettest cat you've ever seen in your life will jump into your nice dry bed like "we need to snuggle RIGHT NOW"

[conspiracy-crows]

It's Danny's first time doing his taxes, and he's reaching out to an online friend to help him. This is how he discovers that as far as the rest of the world is concerned, Amity Park is a barely contained zombie outbreak.

He'd made an online friend, Bart, and they played video games a lot.

Danny's fulltime job is inventing alongside his parents, and as that makes him self-employed (he doesn't work for his parents just next to them), this makes his taxes a little...scary. And it's his first tax season.

He reaches out to Bart, and asks if he knows anyone who files as self employed and if they'd be able to give him some guidance.

He can't ask his parents because, apparently, they've just been throwing random numbers on the papers and have no interest in actually doing them. Danny would like to do this properly.

Also he would like to know how his parents haven't been arrested? Questions for later.

So he shoots a message to Bart, who's apparently in the middle of some sort of sleepover with all of his old friends. Bart assures him that it's fine, and they'll all pitch in to help.

They just need to know his city and state so that the nerd of the group, some guy named Tim, can look up local state and city tax law.

When he tells them he's from Amity Park, there's no response for a good ten minutes.

What follows is a barely legible request for a phone number to call, and a group of people on the other side shouting and asking how he's avoided dying in the hellscape zombie apocalypse that is Amity Park.

Danny has no idea what the other shit means, but he's not about to dodge a chance to make a dead joke when he has one.

"I mean. If you wanna get technical, I didn't. Is...that something that'll effect my taxes?"

OR: The GIW has been lying to keep the Justice League and Justice League Dark out of Amity Park by declaring it a Disaster Zone, stating that not only is there massive pollutants in the air and soil, but that the undead run rampant and are barely contained. The wording they use, however, is a little weird upon closer inspection. It never specifies zombie, and it never says what pollutants. Danny's not super interested about that, though; he just wants to pay his taxes so that the IRS doesn't kill him in his sleep.

[conspiracy-crows]

It is not easy to change our thoughts' pattern: remember we have been thinking for years, maybe since the day we were born, in a certain way that only recently found out to be toxic.

Especially because of this, it takes time to change to a new pattern. You cannot pretend to be done in a day or a week: our old thoughts will always try to take over because they are what we are used to think. It'd be like pretending to get fruits out of a seed.

Be patient. Keep choosing your new thoughts intentionally every day, especially when old ones reappear. It takes kindness with yourself and lot of practice to change any habit, this one in particular. Do not be worried or scared about hiccups or fallbacks. Just go forward on your new path, and don't give up.

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At some point in your life, you were taught that being slightly annoying is an unforgivable sin. Maybe it was by your parents or a teacher or a friend or a bully or an older sibling. But someone taught you that being slightly annoying is a crime punishable by death.

You must unlearn this.

You must accept that all people will be annoying at some point or another in their lives, maybe all of their lives, and that this is okay. It is okay for strangers on the bus, it is okay for children in the grocery store, it is okay for people on social media, and it is okay for you.

If you ever want to truly love your fellow humans, if you ever want to truly love yourself, you must have forgiveness for being annoying.

[conspiracy-crows]

How Tim lies to Batman without lying

Three cookies are missing from Bruce's plate. He starts interrogating Tim about it.

Tim: "I ate one."

This is true. He did, in fact, eat one of the cookies. He also ate the other two.

[conspiracy-crows]

hilarious drama going on on reddit, the least respectable social media site i use. someone goes to r/legaladvice with a question about a shitty interaction with a cop. pretty normal post.

some users replied with regular advice, but one r/legaladvice moderator came in saying it was OP's fault, defending the cop. when OP requested they "please read the post", they equipped their next reply with their little mod hat and told them that showing attitude would result in a ban.

after receiving hundreds of downvotes (and many replies, all of which were removed and banned), the r/legaladvice mod nuked the thread in a fit of anger.

so you'd think it'd stop there, right? well, that's where you're wrong.

there's another subreddit called r/bestoflegaladvice, where the more interesting r/legaladvice threads are reposted for audiences to take the piss out of. and of course, a mod throwing a tantrum and nuking a thread because they were asked to read would make that cut. so it was reposted! and of course, everyone started rightfully calling the mod a bootlicker.

people then started pointing out that the r/legaladvice mod team has cops on it, at which point, part two of the drama starts: some people are mods of both r/legaladvice AND r/bestoflegaladvice, and they get really mad when you call them cops (derogatory).

so of course, they take the best course of action, which is to angrily reply to comments calling them cops and then use mod powers to delete the comments they don't like, insisting that only ONE r/legaladvice mod is a cop, so it's totally fine!

the r/bestoflegaladvice thread was then deleted and locked by mods, presumably for "republicizing deleted comments".

the same thread was then reposted to r/bestoflegaladvice. again, the thread fills with people calling the r/legaladvice mods cops.

this thread was also deleted and locked by r/bestoflegaladvice mods.

but it doesn't end there! because there's ANOTHER subreddit called r/subredditdrama, where the juiciest drama from all manner of subreddits gets reposted. and you'll never believe what's gone on long enough to count as drama.

here, free from the shackles of reddit's legaladvice world, users were free to dunk on the mods as much as they want.

the r/subredditdrama thread was eventually deleted as well (but not locked) just because they don't accept links to nuked threads since the original can't be read, but thankfully, everything had been archived by that point.

and just because the streisand effect should never go unrealized, i'm reposting it here, to tumblr. who knows, maybe someone will bother to screencap this and put it on r/curatedtumblr, and it will eventually live on in reddit again.

as for OP, they reposted their situation to r/nostupidquestions and later posted this update:

moral of the story: never go to reddit for legal advice, because the legal advice subreddit is run by ONE cop.

[conspiracy-crows]

Headcanon for the Batbros, it’s winter, and Dick is drawing something on the snow:

Duke: What’s Dick doing?

Tim: Looking for Damian.

Duke: By drawing a pentagram on the snow?

Jason: Exactly.

Bonus:

Duke: He’s not actually gonna show up-

Damian, coincidentally, shows up after Dick is finished with the drawing: You called, Grayson?

Duke: …

[conspiracy-crows]

Always love how much folklore especially creature folklore emphasizes that there is a way for you to win. These are the steps to ensure the dead don't rise: take them out through a hole in the wall and give them iron shoes. Vampires cannot abide sunlight. If you hear a dog howl on a churchyard path turn around and get home as fast as you can. Iron and salt and the colour red. None of this doomed idea, the world is incomprehensible but if you're a bit clever you'll survive it just fine, there's always ways out.

[conspiracy-crows]

Danny always knew tax evasion ran in his veins. His parents hadn’t been the most… morally sound of people, and less so as ecto-scientists.

He just didn’t think their lessons would ever result in a criminal empire that spanned the entire city and then some. Danny hadn’t seen it coming. His parents definitely wouldn’t have.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne. Mr. Fox.”

Danny ‘the Phantom’ Fenton sat down across from a rather tense looking (to Danny’s enhanced senses, anyways) Brucie Wayne and his right hand, Lucius Fox. He smiled pleasantly, matching Brucie’s vacant smile with that touch of Midwest suburban mother smile.

With his acquisition of multiple Gotham companies, his rather newly established Fentom Co. became one of the largest holding companies in Gotham, the first being Wayne Enterprises and the second being Drake Industries. After months of constantly working his butt off while fending off assassins, reforming Gotham’s slums and cleaning up some of the streets, and taking care of his nest of street kids, Danny garnered enough power to even stand close to Wayne Enterprises in terms of financial powers.

The topic of this meeting was, of course, the proposed merger of Wayne Enterprises’ Medical R&D division with Fentom Co.’s pharmaceutical department. Usually, Wayne Enterprises wouldn’t even consider such an offer, as their Medical R&D division was the most well funded and least likely to be part of a Rogue’s scheme- and therefore most beloved- department of the same nature in Gotham. However, Danny had something the other offers didn’t.

Blackmail.

His overly polite smile widened as Bruce’s mask twitched. His eyes slid over to Lucius Fox.

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve heard much about your genius in… research and development.”

By that, Danny meant that he knew Lucius Fox helped develop Batman’s tech.

He did a lot of stalking that week. It felt rather… invasive, even if he did get a bunch of juicy secrets.

You know what they say: dead men tell no tales… but halfas are generally blabbermouths.

“Is that so? It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Fenton.” The man quickly glanced between the youngsters, accurately predicting that this might have something to do with Bruce’s active nightlife.

“Yes, it is such a pleasure to meet you.”

Wow, Danny didn’t think he’d ever heard anyone sound both so perky and dead inside at the same time, except for Susan at Gotham High’s bake sale.

Bruce wishes he could be a Susan. He’s at best a Becky.

“Will you be staying, Mr. Fox? You’re the head of the R&D department, correct?”

“Ah, yes-”

“Oh, Lucius! I think you had an appointment with the finance department right now! I heard Sally talk about it, you know!”

Lucius Fox sent an unreadable look at Bruce before rallying.

“Oh, it must have slipped my mind. My apologies, Mr. Fenton, it seems as though I can not skip this appointment.”

“That’s alright. I suppose it gives you… plausible deniability… should things go wrong, haha!” Danny allowed his smile to widen a little further than natural. Bruce tensed but Lucius Fox simply politely smiled and left the room.

Ignorance is bliss and all that, Danny amusedly thought.

As the door shut with a click, Bruce dropped the vacant Brucie smile and sighed.

“What do you want,” he gritted out. Danny wasn’t about to let that slide, not after he spent the better part of this month wrangling Bruce’s problem children.

“Ah, it must be because I’m from the Midwest, Brucie, but where I come from, we value these things called manners.”

You uneducated jerk, he doesn’t say.

Danny leaned back in his chair, loosening his smile into something relaxed and sharp.

“…” Oh, boy, Danny could just hear the other man’s blood pressure rising. “What is the purpose of your visit, Mr. Fenton?”

“Relax, Brucie,” Danny sing-songed in a non-relaxing way. “I’m just here to discuss a possible merger that I’m sure you’ll agree to, and give you a couple of updates on your… wayward bird.”

He heard Bruce take a slow, controlled breath. “Very well. Where. Would. You. Like. To. Start.”

Danny ignored the gritted out sentence. He passed a contract to Bruce, who took it like he was handling a live bomb.

“Here’s the proposal, Mr. Wayne. Please, look it over.”

He watched as Bruce looked over the contract with an eagle eye before lowering it, scrutinizing Danny.

“This is… very fair.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. Of course it was fair. Danny wasn’t interested in exploiting the Waynes, despite them being very able to afford it.

He’d brought fifty manufacturing sites for pharmaceuticals, and offered up a building where both companies could send their workers. He provided top notch security- that definitely didn’t have any talons on staff, what were they talking about?- that came from his own security division. Granted, most of them were reformed and trained goons, but hey, creating jobs can only help Gotham’s economy and help break the cycle of poverty, right? Guaranteed by the Wayne name and, most importantly, uncompromised medicine that was accessible to everyone would be a damn good start. He’d also have Penguin’s empire to distribute it to those who couldn’t make it to a clinic or a store, and there were plans in there to work with and establish contracts with Gotham’s welfare department. Well… once Danny finished replacing them with people who wouldn’t try to take a cut of the funds and actually cared about the people. He was thinking… the multitudes of poor grad students and parents that need income. He’s in the process of building childcare centers and…

It’s a good thing he managed to save money from the taxes (thank you, Gotham’s morally ambiguous tax experts that were in desperate need for clients! He could do it himself but having a team of accountants at the ready was seriously so helpful.) because ancients knows the government weren’t about to step into Gotham and help the people here. He needs so much money to pull all of this shit off and a lot of it has to be clean.

Danny inwardly sighed and marked another thing onto his to do list.

Make money laundering fronts.



“Of course, Mr. Wayne. You didn’t think I’d come in here demanding money, did you?”

“I considered it.”

“I am, in fact, trying to help Gotham. You might not agree with my methods, but I’d rather not damage Wayne Enterprises when it’s doing so much to help the people.”

Ugh, he was doing too much work. Danny just wanted to- hah- chill at home and read bed time stories to his kids.

Bruce Wayne, the specific blend between Brucie and Batman, regarded him silently. Danny felt like he went up a few notches in the respect ladder.

Nice.

“You’re a criminal.”

“Says the man in the bat-suit breaking into places and assaulting people.”

Bruce’s hands spasmed around the contract. Danny smiled at him, taking a sip of the coffee they’d prepared. Oo, nice!

“Ah, I heard you’re adopting- pardon, fostering- Tim Drake. Getting empty nest syndrome, Brucie?” He slipped back into using Bruce’s first name. The proposal was formal. This… was very much not.

“What about it?”

“That’s very kind of you. Speaking of which, well, of your birds, I was wondering if you remembered what I asked you to do.” Danny continued, not giving Bruce a chance to reply. “Didn’t I ask for you to keep your birds in line, Brucie?”

The CEO straightened even further, form filling out to be Batman’s imposing figure. “I did.”

“No, you didn’t. Do you know where your charge is, right now? No, not the formerly dead one,” Danny tilted his head, smile shrinking.

“Don’t you dare do anything to Tim. I swear, if you even lay a hand on a strand of his hair, I’ll-”

“Sit your Armani clad ass down, Bruce.” Danny snapped. “Your son’s in your office. I don’t harm children, and your assumptions are deeply insulting. Threaten me again, Bruce, and I’ll make sure you know exactly how much I know about your birds, your cousin, and the commissioner’s daughter.”

Bruce snarled but leashed his anger just enough to sit back down. He itched to go check on Tim, but leaving a threat like Phantom unwatched felt inherently wrong.

“Your other son,” Danny continued. “Is doing quite well. He’s learning that he has hobbies again. He’s actually working under me, you know.”

“He’s what.”

Oh, yeah, that tracks. It figured that Jason wouldn’t tell Bruce about anything. He’s still conflicted about his death. Danny got it.

“Ah, that’s precious information. You’ll have to offer something of equal value if you want to know. There is, on the other hand, a piece of information I’ll give you for free.”

Danny paused for the dramatic effect. It was lost on Bruce, the ultimate drama queen of this world.

“The League of Assassins are hanging around Hotham lately. It’s getting tedious, getting rid of them. I suggest talking to your old flame, you know, with words and what little communication skill you’ve got rattling around in your noggin to get them to pull back. Her interest is… unnaturally focused on Jason.”

Danny read the dark agreement swimming about Bruce’s face and inclined his head. “Should negotiations fail, rest assured that Jason will be protected.”

“…Thank you.”

“You are most welcome. Go ahead and discuss the contract with Mr. Fox, I am sure you’ll find little problems with it. Ah,” Danny stood up, fixing his suit jacket. “And you should probably check up on Timothy. He’s probably having a great time in your office, Mr. Wayne.”

“I’ll see you out.”

“Of course.”

Having Batman escorting him out should probably be more intimidating.

Danny stood in the elevator, waiting for Bruce’s contemplative silence to put itself into words.

Sure enough, “What… what kind of hobbies does Jason have now?”

“I’d tell you to ask him, but you two aren’t on speaking terms, are you? He likes books, of course, but recently, he’s found an interest in glass blowing. He made quite a bit of progress on his attempts at sun catchers.”

“I see.”

Well, Danny’s not about to step on that landmine any more than he has to.

——

“Danny.”

“Oh, hey, Jason. Sit down, we were about to have dinner.”

Jason clambered into the window. Danny sighed. He had a door, but by the way Jason never used it, it was like the door didn’t exist.

“Mind telling me why the old bastard showed up on my rooftops with a bunch of glass and glassblowing tools?”

Danny smiled. “No idea.”

“Uh huh.”

Danny placed a hand on his chest and put on his best woe-is-me expression. The teen’s face twitched in annoyance. “Doubt? At me? Why, I never!”

A bread roll thwacked him in the face.

[conspiracy-crows]

yall remember that time misha collins did this shit to me?

(also, love the little sidebar of him expressing his condolences abt my brother dying on my birthday only to switch right back to menace mode)

[conspiracy-crows]

The Iranian Regime is going to execute rapper Toomaj Salehi for supporting protests of Jina Amini’s murder by the regime in his songs.

Iranian activist Elica Le Bon says, “Iranians in the diaspora picked up on the fact that the regime tends not to execute people who become known to the international community. We have seen many examples of prisoners that were either released on bail or had their sentences commuted through our “say their names to save their lives” campaign on social media, using hashtags to garner attention for their causes, and even before social media existed, through getting the stories of political prisoners to international media outlets. Once reported on, and once the eyes shift to the regime and the reality of its pending brutality, realizing that the action is not worth the repercussions, we have seen them back down and not execute. For that reason, this is part of an urgent campaign for readers to talk about Toomaj as much as you can, using the hashtag #FreeToomaj or #ToomajSalehi. Every comment makes a difference, and if we were wrong, what did we lose by trying?”

[conspiracy-crows]

Jason is trying his best to make him look vicious ; )'