#I wanted to give up and forget about it but its also jason dent day so *shrugs* | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iloveitwhen · 3 years

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jasonette but like siblings but like angst- like that whole trope where they are blood related and got separated, or they didnt get separated idk thats cool too i just want some sibling jasonette😅

Wow. ok. uhmmmm. this is a lot i think?? I got a little jk a lot carried away and this past week was super busy so i’ll finish the second part later??

Again... a lot...

Jason is walking home after another night at the bar when he sees a small woman, teenager? Slip into a dark alleyway and two men follow in after her a few moments later.

Jason curses and bolts across the street, what was this girl thinking? How stupid do you have to be to go into a dark alley where no one will hear you or care to help?

He jumps into the alley to find one man already slumped on himself on the floor and the other getting kicked in the teeth by army boots then falling limply.

Jason curses again, impressed this time. He scans over the men noting that they probably had pretty good concussions judging from the dent in the garbage can the first man was laying next to and the way the second guy’s head smacked onto the concrete when he fell. He lands his eyes back on the woman, no, definitely a teenager, with a smile on his face that instantly falters. The girl is in a fighting stance and waiting for him to attack so he quickly raises his hands to placate her.

“I’m not here to fight you, I saw you get followed and I was coming to help.”

“Nobody helps in Gotham,” she states, a dangerous edge to her voice that held a carefully hidden accent.

“Not from around here, are you?”

The girl narrows her eyes, “I was born and raised here, take a step further and you won’t be waking up tomorrow.”

Jason pockets his hands and smirks. He likes her, she’s a fighter, she reminds him of himself when he was younger.

“Ok. Just make sure you make it home safe. A girl’s going to get some unwanted attention at a time and place like this.” He turns around and crosses the street but as soon as he’s out of her sight he turns back and hides in the shadows to track her and make sure no one else tries to catch her alone. Just because she could handle herself the first time doesn’t mean she’s necessarily safe from the next attempt.

The girl exits the alley and starts toward the direction of Jason’s apartment calmly as if she didn’t just get attacked. At least that means less walking for him. After a few minutes she slips into another dark alley, of course she does, and Jason crosses the street again going into his own empty alley before pulling his helmet on and scaling the building. As he peers over the side of the building his helmet scans the area giving him feedback he would normally miss due to the horrible lighting and telling him that the alley was empty. He figured she had somehow gotten into one of the buildings and decided to go home by rooftops since he was already up there.

However, as he landed on the opposite rooftop his feet slipped from underneath him. Jason managed to roll out of it but before he could get his footing his hip was kicked into and he stumbled, tripped over a seemingly perfectly placed rock and smashed his head on the side of the stair house. Then, just as quickly as this all transpired, there was a body behind him, they hooked their fingers under his helmet and lifted it to expose his neck and press a knife with jagged points onto his neck. How did he know the knife had jagged points? Good question, it was, as previously mentioned, against his neck and piercing into his skin, drawing blood.

“Why are you following me?” a girl’s voice filters through his mask and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His mask let him know through the constant visuals that the voice belonged to a female in their late teens, not that he didn’t already know that.

“Making sure you got home safe,” he says carefully, weighing his options and trying to decide if he should let her feel like she got him or escape with a slight nick on his neck.

Eh. Jason preferred to not have a bleeding neck no matter how small the cut.

“Lies,” she hisses, digging the knife a bit deeper as a warning, maybe getting out sooner was a better idea. “What do you want?”

“Knife off my throat first,” he manages without pushing his neck further onto the blade.

A second later the girl releases him and jumps back with enough space between them to react if he ended up deciding to attack her.

Jason gives her a quick glance as he stands up, a hand to his throat to check for blood.

“I wasn’t lying-”

“You’re not fooling anyone you Red Hood wannabe,” she snaps. Jason just laughs in surprise, no one has ever accused him of being a Red Hood wannabe. He's the one who made the mantle into something to respect, something to fear. He stops laughing and levels a glare at the girl, his helmet telling him unhelpfully there was no match of facial recognition in any database.

“I am Red Hood-” he started to growl out but she cut him off again. The audacity.

“Red Hood wouldn’t have been caught by the person he was trailing, Red Hood wouldn’t have been caught off guard, Red Hood doesn’t have a stupid streak of white hair on his head. He may have been a theatre nerd but he wouldn’t do that.”

Wait what.

“What are you talking about?” But it was more of a demand than a question.

“You’re not…” she trailed off waving her hand in the air trying to find a word, “slick. Same jacket, same shoes, same build, yeah. You’re not fooling anyone.”

“Ok. Whatever, I’m going home.” He turns and starts jogging across the rooftop towards home. So much for helping out.

“Where is he?” she calls out after him.

“Right here, princess,” he spat before jumping to the other rooftop.

But as soon as his feet leave the building a big dark blue warbly hole appears and swallows him before he can react. Unfortunately for him the other side of that weird black hole was a face full of concrete.

“Prove you’re him.”

Oh this girl was something else. Jason shakes his disorientation away, he didn’t know how she did that, nor did he care but he was pissed. He swings his foot around and connects with her ankle, she falls as expected but easily bounces right back up and hops out of his range.

“Do that again and I’ll have to break my no killing kids rule,” he growls out, staring her down for a moment. Her face was finally lit by the dim yellow street lamps and he could see the entirety of her face and all the raw emotions she was trying to hide. For a split second familiarity passed through him, like when you see someone at the library then at the store a few weeks later or you see an old school friend ten years later and can’t quite place them. Jason dismisses the feeling and turns to go.

“Wait.” She says it so vulnerably that Jason gives her a chance, when he turns she pulls up her sleeve and shows off her forearm.

In the center of her arm is a faded black tattoo that was a writing symbol, but because of its name and one of its uses it was used to brand child soldiers in Gotham from a particular gang that Red Hood obliterated as soon as his first order of business in Gotham.

‡

It was the double dagger, or better known in Gotham as the death dagger. The children were expendable although highly trained and dangerous, they could give Damian a run for his money in the child assassin department. The tattoo was a reminder to the children and to the people they came across that they were soulless, emotionless, their lives and actions were not their own and they would give their lives willingly for the mission

Meaning who they were before was dead. No family, no connections, no one would notice if they went missing and no one would be able to identify their bodies if and when the time came. Sometimes poor families would sell one of their children and promise to forget them and to never contact them.

Jason was led to assume that this was another child soldier looking to thank him, or kill him. It was 50/50 these days, some of those kids just never recovered.

“So what is it that you want? You want my autograph across your head?” Jason asks dryly.

The girl just huffs and pulls her sleeve back down.

“I want to know if my brother is underneath that mask.”

I want to know if my brother is underneath that mask.

The words struck Jason deep in his chest but it only fueled his anger. He didn’t know why that hit so deep but he was not in the mood for this nor would he be at any time.

“Just because I ended that gang doesn’t mean we’re family. Go find your other assassin siblings to play house with.”

“Annette,” she calls after as he turns his back again. A strike of familiarity pulses through him and when he hesitates she continues, “that was my name before I was initiated. I was one of the first. Daddy’s little girl,” she was still talking louder than necessary since he hadn’t turned back around. “I’m the only one left from The 13.”

Right. The 13. That’s what everyone called the first batch even as they were killed off, they were the most ruthless being the oldest and were also the most aggressive in proving their worth. It was common to find a number from 1-13 placed strategically behind at the crime scene, whoever had the most successful missions would be highly rewarded, or so he was told.

“Do you remember?”

“I remember destroying that gang and their stupid leader and having to kill some of your little friends and I also remember The 13 died within the first year and a half and were easily replaced by their younger friends.”

“Do you remember me?”

“Look, kid,” he finally turns to look at her, “I don’t care, ok? Yay whoopdeedoo I saved you, get in line. It’s what I do, kill bad people and let the rest walk away. You’re not special.”

“Annette Marie Todd,” she says hurriedly, like it’s a last resort. “Jason Peter Todd,” she continues, “just you. Me. And a blitzed out Mom.”

Jason did not like this, he knew the Dagger Children were ruthless and expert manipulators but this was pushing it. He spun around to face her, ripping off his helmet, she already knew what he looked like and it was in the way of his death glare.

“You don’t know who you are messing with. If you really were a Dagger you’d know that I am not one to be fucked with.” He slides his helmet back on and without a backward glance he runs off to the next roof and continues home. Thankfully not another portal thing opens up in front of him.

———————————

Jason didn’t have a sister. He did not have a sister. He would remember having a sister. He would remember having a Dagger for a sister. But Annette was such a familiar name. And she had said her name was Annette Marie Todd. Todd.

No that’s stupid. Impossible. She was just messing with him, for all he knew she could have been subtly showing her face in random places for him to react to the familiarity of her face and she could have said the name sometime in the last few months for him to vaguely recognize the sound of her name but not place it.

But the Lazarus pit did alter his memories from childhood, it was like looking through a fog of red anger, or maybe it was always like that even before the pit, and it also completely wiped out other parts of his memory. But a sister? No. No way.

Hours of this, circling around the possibilities and shifting around on his bed trying to get comfortable until he finally drifted off in a very restless sleep.

Jason found himself in a familiar apartment, the one he lived in before his “mother” died. He looked around and it was more of the feeling of familiarity that convinced him where he was than anything else. He steps aside for a younger version of himself to run by him and turns to the window that led out to the fire escape and watches him climb out of it and close the window. Jason turns back around to see what Young Jason was hiding from. A man hands a thick envelope to his mother, Catherine Todd who had wrapped herself in a thin silk robe, her bony frame visible as well as her happy focus on the money inside that envelope. Jason couldn’t make out the man’s face but he turned around and grabbed the small hand of a little girl in pigtails. She turned her head and faced the window sending a smile but he couldn’t quite make out her face so he instead turned to himself sitting outside.

As he turned his surroundings changed but in his dreamstate he paid no mind to it. This time he was standing in an aisle of a store as a child. He looked around and found his mother dressed embarrassingly in a thin tank top and ragged jeans and flip flops. He feels a squeeze of his hand and looks down, his little sister is looking up at him and pointing to a rack of stuffed animals of Clifford the Big Red Dog that were suddenly there. He sends her a smile and looks up, intent on catching up with his mother and asking her to buy one but as he chases her his intent slips from his mind and instead he wants to taste the cupcakes he just saw. He opens a case and takes a bite but yelling makes him turn around and there is Batman towering over him. Instead of a tasty cupcake he is holding something thick and metal, a crowbar. He throws it at the man and turns to run away and jumps out of the parking garage and jumps into the air flying up. But he’s too slow, he tries kicking and swimming in the air to propel himself further away from Batman but a hand wraps around his foot.

Jason jerks awake, breathing heavy and feeling uncomfortably hot. This was much more mild than his usual nightmares, if it could even be called a nightmare, but it was bad in a different way. It wasn’t unusual for Jason to be getting chased in his dreams by one thing or another and it always ended before whatever or whoever was chasing him got him but it was getting a little old honestly.

His head was pounding so he slipped out of bed and poured himself a glass of water from the kitchen. As he takes a sip he recalls his dream and how he had looked down at his sister. But that couldn’t be right.

A searing pain in his head forces him to tighten his grip on his cup before it goes away again. Stupid head. Stupid dream. Stupid girl trying to get in his head.

As he lays back down a memory of clear grey eyes flashes across his mind’s eye.

---

Throughout the next few days Jason tries to ignore the headaches and his dreams of the young black haired girl with grey eyes and of getting chased which was more frequent and more urgent than he remembered them being. It was just all a big waste of time. At least the Dagger girl wasn’t trying to find him anymore, he didn’t know how he would react if she showed up again.

After another dream of getting chased, this time he was just so tired of it he got a few good punches in on the Bane/Joker demon that was chasing him when his phone buzzes, startling him awake. He ignores it in favor of a cup of coffee and checks the time on the oven that he never uses, it’s almost two o’clock.

His phone buzzes again several more times in quick succession. He finally heads over and clicks his phone on to see five messages from Stephanie.

Replacement’s replacement🤰

so u have a little sister and u never told me???

anyways shes at the big house and getting interrogated by bruce and i think hes ready to adopt her

hello

so rude

i mean it looks to me shes tellin the truth but like seems sus for obvious reasons and ur the only one that'll actually know so… hurry up??

Jason curses and rushes to grab his things before running outside and zooming to the Wayne Manor on his motorcycle.

welp i’ll add with another part soon that i havent finished yet but anywho let me know if jason is too ooc or something😁😁

#sibling jasonette #maribat #this is real late #sorry about it #is it angsty??#im not that great at angst #also tumblr was not letting me use the cool version of that symbol #just rude #btw I edited this feb.23 just so you know but not very big changes #i dont know if you care or not

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alphaabucky · 7 years

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Why her...? - Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader

Anon - I have a request. Bare with me this is my first time asking a request.. Batman x Reader. Can you make it sad and have us in tears?? Don't really care what you write about just make it sad. Please and thank you.

So this consists of a lot of flashbacks, so flashbacks will be in italics, lyrics will be in bold and now time is normal. hopefully this isn't confusing. I don't know if this is capable of making anyone cry but please give feedback if I should do more like this! :)

Song this is based off of is old but its the best one that fits well I think - SONG

Warnings - Death, Cancer victim, crying, flashbacks, sadness.

Word Count - 2K

"I'm sorry, but I have to go" Tears fell from your eyes as you looked up at Bruce, his eyebrows were furrowed, clearly concentrating on not letting tears fall from his own. You reached your hand up and cupped his face making him look at you. "I'm sorry… I love you… but I have to go, you have to forget me" More and more tears began to fall. "I am never going to forget you…" was all he said, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “You have to, for yourself and for the little gremlins that we call our children." You tried cracking a joke, but Bruce wasn’t having it, his facial expression not changing from upset and maybe even angry. Silence took over the two of you before Bruce leaned in, placing a tender kiss on your lips. "Please don’t go… don’t leave us…" Bruce whispered against your lips, finally letting the tears fall from his eyes. "I'm sorry" You hiccupped, letting out a long breath in hope of calming your heartbeat down but failing miserably. "Y/N please…" Bruce whispered, watching you fading away from him.

The last thing the both of you say to each other…. “I love you”.

I drove by all the places we used to hang out getting wasted,

I thought about our last kiss how it felt and the way you tasted,

and even though your friends tell me your doing fine,

are you somewhere feeling lonely even though he's right beside you,

when he says those words that hurt you,

do you read the ones I wrote you,

sometimes I start to wonder was it just a lie,

if what we had was real,

how could you be fine?

Cause I'm not fine at all..... It was now late at night, Bruce perched onto the gargoyle that he first saw you walking down the streets of Gotham alone. “Father?” Damian spoke up, grappling towards him and then taking a seat beside him. “Mother will be back soon” He said, staring up at his brooding father as he stared at the lamp post which was still dented by the man he ripped away from you that night when he tried to mug you; “wont she?” Damien continued, concerned from his father’s silence.

“Go back home Damian, spend some time with your brothers-“ “They’re not my brothers. Todd is an insufferable human being, Grayson is highly irritable and Drake is generally a huge pain in-“ “Spend some time with them. You never know when the moments with your most loved ones are the last. You’ll regret not spending time with them, taking care of them, laughing with them…” Bruce trailed off, noticing a woman walking buy who looked quite similar to you, but instead of walking alone, she was with a man who had his arm wrapped around her; the sight bringing a tear to Bruce’s eye.

“Will you be home soon after I leave you here?” Damian asked, standing up and taking out his grappling hook. Bruce gave a slight nod, Damian returning the gesture before grappling away back to the manor.

"Where's papa bat, demon spawn?” Jason smirked at Damian as he returned from patrol without him. “I believe father will not get over Mother for a while, he is still sat on the gargoyle he first saw mother at.” Damien rolled his eyes at Todd “he also told me to spend time with all of you, despite hating each and every one of you with a passion I will do as he wishes. Where are the others?” He asked, pulling off his mask. “Tim bet that Dick couldn’t watch a horror film without heaving” Jason shrugged, making his way back to the cinema room where Tim and Dick were at “How’s he doing?” Damien asked taking a seat beside Tim “he cracked almost 4 times, still waiting for it.” He answered and the other two boys groaned.

Meanwhile Bruce still sat at the gargoyle, could he have done something? What did he do to deserve the one of the only things that made him happy being ripped away from him? He felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest; but he didn’t want it back. "I hope you’re okay… I’ll always love you Y/N.” He spoke looking up to the sky before making his way back to Wayne manor.

I remember the day you told me you were leaving,

I remember the make up running down your face,

And the dreams you left behind you didn't need them,

Like every single wish we ever made,

I wish that I could wake up with amnesia,

And forget about the stupid little things,

Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you,

And the memories that never can escape,

Cause I'm not fine at all...

‘I love you…’

Bruce could still hear your voice say those words, your voice so full of hope, it was music to his ears; “I love you too…”.

“I must warn you my sons are a handful.” Bruce smiled, gripping your hand a little tighter. “I’ve always wanted a family. And if I get to have one without the pain of childbirth then that is a major bonus.” You giggled, earning a chuckle from Bruce before he opened the doors to the manor. “Welcome to your future home.” He smiled, opening the large door to reveal Alfred along with Dick, Jason, Tim and Damien stood in a line wearing something smart rather than their amour get-up.

“Welcome home Master Bruce, Miss Y/L/N.” Alfred smiles, along with the boys smiling before Damien coughs, gaining everyone’s attention.

“So, this is our new mother?”

Bruce laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling, longing to feel your warmth cuddle up to his side. "I wish that could wake up with amnesia... " He said to himself, tears freely falling from his eyes. "I wish I could see your beautiful face in the morning… Just, one last time..." He whispered, closing his eyes in order to try and stop crying. "Stop crying Bruce" He said to himself, sitting up and looking out of the window beside him.

"All these memories I try to forget, they can't escape from my mind...” He sighs, falling back into his original position and closing his eyes.

"I'm not fine at all…”

The pictures that you sent me there still living in my phone,

I'll admit I like to see them whenever I feel alone,

And now my friends keeps asking why I'm not around,

It hurts to know your happy and it hurts that you've moved on,

It's hard to hear your name when I havnt seen you in so long,

It's like we never happened was it just a lie?

If what we had was real,

How could you be fine?

Cause I'm not fine at all...

Wherever Bruce looked he saw your face, your pictures still hung up on the walls; family pictures, he smiled at some, especially the ones where Damien and Jason were mid argument on who would stand next to you, but Tim and Dick ended up being on either side of you smiling. Your wedding pictures were the ones that hurt his heart most, you were both so happy, everyone was so happy; but good things always come to an end.

"Bruce when will you be coming back out on patrol with us? Or just out in general?” Dick asked, coming up beside him and looking at the wall which Bruce’s eyes never left off. "I still need some time, Dick.” Bruce said back to him as he turned the opposite direction and walked away.

"It hurts so much… But I’m glad you’re happy now, in a better place." Bruce spoke to himself, sitting at a park bench; he needed time, away from things that reminded him of you. Even the boys reminded him of you, yours and Jason’s eye colour were similar, yours and Dick’s shared love for breakfast made by Alfred, the necklace Damian never fails to wear every day that you gave him before you left, and Tim and you had similar personalities; Bruce couldn’t get you out of his head.

He saw a woman walking to him, a shy, timid smile plastered on her face. “Hello.” She greeted, staring at the seat beside him, probably waiting for him to invite her to join him on the bench. “Hello.” He nodded to her, but then turning away almost instantly as he stared at the children playing on the swings, it reminded him of when you and Bruce sat on that exact bench and watched the boys play – not matter their age, they still acted like children. “With all due respect, I would like to be alone.” He spoke up, looking back to the woman who still stood beside him. “Please.” He sighed, and she nodded, turning and walking away silently back to her married couple friends.

“You need to move on Bruce…” He scolded himself, playing with his wedding ring as he sat there.

"It's like we never happened Y/N, you disappeared like a stone in the ocean, I don’t think ill ever love someone else as much as I loved you…” he whispers, kissing his wedding ring as if it would send a message to you. “I’m all alone, dying slowly inside…” another tear fell from his eye, he wiped it away swiftly before getting up from the bench and leaving, sending an apologetic smile to the woman before disappearing into the distance.

I remember the day you told me you were leaving,

I remember the make up running down your face,

And the dreams you left behind you didn't need them,

Like every single wish we ever made,

I wish that I could wake up with amnesia,

And forget about the stupid little things,

Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you,

And the memories that never can escape,

"I can never forget about you, however hard I try, I can't forget, I can't let you go..." He said to himself, staring at the ceiling again in his bedroom, curtains closed and lights off.

All he now feels is never-ending pain.

If today I woke up with you right beside me,

Like all of this was some twisted dream,

I'll hold you closer than I ever did before,

And you'd never slip away,

And you'd never hear me say, He woke up, turning on his side to see you sleeping soundly, a smile crept up onto his features as he moved the stray hairs away from your face back behind your ear, kissing your forehead as he did so. “What are you doing Bruce?” You smiled, squinting your eyes open as you looked up at him, seeing the love he felt for you in his eyes. “Admiring my beautiful wife.” He smiled back at you, leaning in to press a kiss onto your lips.

“FATHER! TODD STOLE MY GRAPPLING GUN AND IS HOLDING IT OVER MY HEAD ACTING AS IF IM A CAT WANTING TREATS.” Damian’s voice echoed through the whole manor, making you laugh and Bruce sigh. “HE STOLE MY FAVOURITE GUNS THE FUCKING BRAT” Jason’s voice followed. “MIND YOUR LANGUAGE YOU BELLY DANCING, DEADSHOT-WANNABE TOAD.” Damian’s voice yelled back, making the both of you burst into laughter. “WE ALL KNOW IM BETTER THAN HIM – IM THE RED HOOD.”

I remember the day you told me you were leaving,

I remember the make up running down your face,

And the dreams you left behind you didn't need them,

Like every single wish we ever made,

I wish that I could wake up with amnesia,

And forget about the stupid little things,

Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you,

And the memories that never can escape,

Cause I'm not fine at all.............

Bruce sighed, he couldn’t sleep; it was around 3AM.

He got up, making his way to the graveyard and stopping at a particular grave stone.

"Y/N Wayne

Heaven has gained another angel

Lost her fight with cancer,

A wonderful mother, a beautiful wife

D.O.B – Death date"

Bruce fell to his knees, his head resting against your gravestone and his tears darkening the stone. "Why her…” He cried, looking to the sky.

And I'm really not fine at all...

Tell me this is just a dream....

Cause I'm really not fine at all....

SO! I hope this was okay, if you would like to request, message me :)

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sunshineweb · 7 years

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Safal Niveshak Stream – The Powerful Effect of Compounding Goodwill

Some nice stuff I am reading, watching, and observing at the start of this weekend…

Of Greater Fools and Bubbles

How many greater fools does it take to make a bubble? An old but highly relevant post from Jason Zweig…

Economists have struggled and failed to explain why markets turn into manias. Some have denied bubbles exist; others have argued bubbles must somehow be “rational.” Often, the argument is that bubbles are caused by “uninformed” traders, or “dumb money,” while the “smart money” sits on the sidelines.

The latest findings suggest, however, that bubbles might be caused not by traders who lack information but by those who have too much.

Pessimism is Seductive

Morgan Housel of Collaborative Fund hits it again with his post on how pessimism is intellectually seductive in a way optimism only wishes it could be…

Tell someone that everything will be great and they’re likely to either shrug you off or offer a skeptical eye. Tell someone they’re in danger and you have their undivided attention.

Hearing that the world is going to hell is more interesting than forecasting that things will gradually get better over time, even if the latter is accurate for most people most of the time. Pessimism can be hard to distinguish from critical thinking and is often taken more seriously than optimism, which can be hard to distinguish from salesmanship and aloofness.

…On one hand it makes sense. Daniel Kahneman once wrote: “Organisms that treat threats as more urgent than opportunities have a better chance to survive and reproduce.”

But on the other hand, it’s crazy. We don’t just respond faster to pessimism. We coddle it for longer than is necessary. Optimism demands facts and is ditched at the first sign of trouble. Pessimism can be grown from a crazy thought and clutched indefinitely.

How to Fill Your Years with Life

If you haven’t picked Ryan wonderful book – Ego is the Enemy – do that now. In this book, he shows how ego – irrational or delusional self-belief – has long been linked with success and striving for goals yet this same drive has a dark side. Anyways, Ryan just wrote a wonderful post on things to do to live a full life and leave nothing on the table by 30. Among others, here are two of my favourites from his list…

7. Keep a Journal — Not for looking backward, but to force you to think about what you’re doing now. I should have done this earlier.

10. The Quiet Moments Are The Best — There is a line from Lao Tzu. “Peace is in the emptiness. Emptiness is in the fast of the mind.” It’s in the quiet, still moments that we feel what matters in life. Standing on the shore of a lake. Looking out over a canyon. Resting your head against someone else’s. It’s a shortage of these moments that give rise to the feeling that we haven’t lived enough, that we have to keep going. Seeking them out, encouraging them is what makes you feel like you’ve done plenty.

Ryan ends his post with a paragraph from Mozart, who lived to be 35 but filled those years with many, many decades of life and work…

I have now made a habit of being prepared in all affairs of life for the worst. As death, when we come to consider it closely, is the true goal of our existence, I have formed during the last few years such close relationships with this best and truest friend of mankind that his image is not only no longer terrifying to me but is indeed very soothing and consoling, and I thank my God for graciously granting me the opportunity of learning that death is the key which unlocks the door to our true happiness. I never lie down at night without reflecting that—young as I am—I may not live to see another day. Yet not one of all my acquaintances could say that in my company I am morose or disgruntled. For this blessing, I daily thank my creator.

Howard Marks on Market Excesses

Like Warren Buffett’s shareholder letters, Howard Marks’ memos are a must-read. In one he wrote in 2005, Marks discussed market trends being taken to excess – and the painful consequences that become clear in hindsight. Here’s an excerpt from that memo of Marks, which is highly relevant in today’s today environment…

I often cite John Kenneth Galbraith’s observation that one of the outstanding hallmarks of the financial world is “the extreme brevity of the financial memory.” Investors lose money over and over because they simply forget that cycles are inevitable and there’s no such thing as a free lunch. Now I’ve found a great quotation from Churchill, also reminding us that foresight comes largely from awareness of history.

Along similar lines, I’m struck by the extent to which a related factor, inadequate skepticism, also contributes to investment losses. Getting the most out of a book, play or movie usually requires “willing suspension of disbelief.” We’re glad to overlook the occasional plot glitch, historical inaccuracy or physical impossibility because it increases our enjoyment. When we watch Peter Pan, we don’t want to hear the person sitting next to us say, “I can see the wires” (even though we know they’re there). While we know boys can’t fly, we don’t care; we’re just there for fun.

But our purpose in investing is serious, not fun, and we must constantly be on the lookout for things that can’t work in real life. In short, the process of investing requires a strong dose of disbelief. Time and time again, the post-mortems of financial debacles include two classic phrases: “It was too good to be true” and “What were they thinking?” I’m writing to explore why these observations are so often invoked in the past tense.

How Big Oil Will Die

Electric cars with lives 3x longer than those run on the internal combustion engine are being bought in droves in the Western world. But this is just one of the factor that may spell doom for oil and the businesses that survive by producing and selling it…

Big Oil is perhaps the most feared and respected industry in history. Oil is warming the planet — cars and trucks contribute about 15% of global fossil fuels emissions — yet this fact barely dents its use. Oil fuels the most politically volatile regions in the world, yet we’ve decided to send military aid to unstable and untrustworthy dictators because their oil is critical to our own security. For the last century, oil has dominated our economics and our politics. Oil is power.

Yet I argue here that technology is about to undo a century of political and economic dominance by oil. Big Oil will be cut down in the next decade by a combination of smartphone apps, long-life batteries, and simpler gearing. And as is always the case with new technology, the undoing will occur far faster than anyone thought possible.

A Dozen Ideas from Charlie Munger

Tren Griffin of 25iq has done another wonderful post, this time on compiling a dozen thoughts from Charlie Munger from the 2017 Berkshire AGM, including this one…

“A life properly lived is just learn, learn, learn all the time.” “If we had stopped learning, you [Berkshire shareholders] wouldn’t be here – you’d be alive, probably, but you wouldn’t be here.” “There’s nothing like a personal, painful experience if we want to learn, and we certainly have had our share of it.” “There’s nothing like the pain of getting into a lousy business to find a good one.” “We were young and ignorant then; Now we’re old and ignorant.” “Experience is like eating cockleburs – it really gets your attention.” “It is a good idea to not play where the other people are better.”

Genius of Jeff Bezos

Sean Iddings has written a nice post tracking the genius of Amazon’s founder Jeff Bezos…

Jeff Bezos was able to see differently than nearly everybody else in the early 2000’s, and continues today, largely in part to his fanatical preparation.

In Jeff Bezos’ biography The Everything Store: Jeff Bezos and the Age of Amazon, childhood friend Joshua Weinstein recalled, “He was excruciatingly focused. Not like mad-scientist focused, but he was capable of really focusing, in a crazy way, on certain things. He was extremely disciplined, which is how he is able to do all these things.” Part of that focus and discipline was vacuuming up details from history. This vast storehouse of details has given Bezos the ability to frame his present situation with the best historical examples. In other words, by looking at the past he has been able to throw out all of the useless noise and draw accurate conclusions to how the future might unfold based on the past.

This phenomenon is perfectly observed in 2003 and is repeating again today.

Keep in Touch with People

Be the butterfly whose wings can create a positive hurricane in someone’s life. A lovely post from my friend Vishal Kataria…

Don’t just keep in touch with people who matter because they can give something. Keep in touch because sometimes, you will give something… something that nobody else can offer. Be there for them. Your friends will thank life for sending a friend like you. Your butterfly wings can create a positive hurricane in their lives.

I’m guilty of not keeping in touch with people who care. Just because. It took a memory to make me realize how selfish I am. It’s not always about me. In fact, it almost never should be about me. I will step out of my comfort zone. I will keep in touch. I will ask people if I can do something for them. Will you?

Compounding Goodwill

Einstein said, “Compound interest is the eighth wonder.” If you understand the basics of compounding, you would tend to agree with Einstein’s statement. There is immense power in compounding. A small amount of money left for compounding for a very long time, even at a modest rate, can turn into a staggering sum.

But what most people miss is that the real beauty of compounding lies not in wealth creation, but in another, more important, area of life too. It’s called goodwill that you create in this world.

In his book, Education of a Value Investor, Guy Spier writes about Mohnish Pabrai …

…over the past ten years, I’ve repeatedly observed how he looks to see what he can do for others, not the other way round…By acting this way, I could see that Mohnish created an incredible network of people who wish him well and would love to find ways to help him and thank him for his kindness. This is the extraordinarily powerful effect of compounding goodwill by being a giver, not a taker. And as he has taught me, the paradox is that you end up receiving infinitely more in life by giving than by taking.

True gifts bring people closer together. An unconditional gift, one given with nothing expected in return, can change everything. It creates conversations and spread ideas. It opens doors and creates forward motion.

So, what value are you adding to the world? What is it that you’re giving out without any expectation of returns?

As with all matters of compounding, the sooner you start the longer runway you’ll get.

Start today!

The post Safal Niveshak Stream – The Powerful Effect of Compounding Goodwill appeared first on Safal Niveshak.

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heliosfinance · 7 years

Text

Safal Niveshak Stream – The Powerful Effect of Compounding Goodwill

Some nice stuff I am reading, watching, and observing at the start of this weekend…

Of Greater Fools and Bubbles

How many greater fools does it take to make a bubble? An old but highly relevant post from Jason Zweig…

The latest findings suggest, however, that bubbles might be caused not by traders who lack information but by those who have too much.

Pessimism is Seductive

Morgan Housel of Collaborative Fund hits it again with his post on how pessimism is intellectually seductive in a way optimism only wishes it could be…

Tell someone that everything will be great and they’re likely to either shrug you off or offer a skeptical eye. Tell someone they’re in danger and you have their undivided attention.

…On one hand it makes sense. Daniel Kahneman once wrote: “Organisms that treat threats as more urgent than opportunities have a better chance to survive and reproduce.”

How to Fill Your Years with Life

7. Keep a Journal — Not for looking backward, but to force you to think about what you’re doing now. I should have done this earlier.

Ryan ends his post with a paragraph from Mozart, who lived to be 35 but filled those years with many, many decades of life and work…

Howard Marks on Market Excesses

How Big Oil Will Die

A Dozen Ideas from Charlie Munger

Tren Griffin of 25iq has done another wonderful post, this time on compiling a dozen thoughts from Charlie Munger from the 2017 Berkshire AGM, including this one…

Genius of Jeff Bezos

Sean Iddings has written a nice post tracking the genius of Amazon’s founder Jeff Bezos…

Jeff Bezos was able to see differently than nearly everybody else in the early 2000’s, and continues today, largely in part to his fanatical preparation.

This phenomenon is perfectly observed in 2003 and is repeating again today.

Keep in Touch with People

Be the butterfly whose wings can create a positive hurricane in someone’s life. A lovely post from my friend Vishal Kataria…

Compounding Goodwill

But what most people miss is that the real beauty of compounding lies not in wealth creation, but in another, more important, area of life too. It’s called goodwill that you create in this world.

In his book, Education of a Value Investor, Guy Spier writes about Mohnish Pabrai …

So, what value are you adding to the world? What is it that you’re giving out without any expectation of returns?

As with all matters of compounding, the sooner you start the longer runway you’ll get.

Start today!

The post Safal Niveshak Stream – The Powerful Effect of Compounding Goodwill appeared first on Safal Niveshak.

Safal Niveshak Stream – The Powerful Effect of Compounding Goodwill published first on http://ift.tt/2ljLF4B

0 notes

sunshineweb · 7 years

Text

Safal Niveshak Stream – The Powerful Effect of Compounding Goodwill

Some nice stuff I am reading, watching, and observing at the start of this weekend…

Of Greater Fools and Bubbles

How many greater fools does it take to make a bubble? An old but highly relevant post from Jason Zweig…

The latest findings suggest, however, that bubbles might be caused not by traders who lack information but by those who have too much.

Pessimism is Seductive

Morgan Housel of Collaborative Fund hits it again with his post on how pessimism is intellectually seductive in a way optimism only wishes it could be…

Tell someone that everything will be great and they’re likely to either shrug you off or offer a skeptical eye. Tell someone they’re in danger and you have their undivided attention.

…On one hand it makes sense. Daniel Kahneman once wrote: “Organisms that treat threats as more urgent than opportunities have a better chance to survive and reproduce.”

How to Fill Your Years with Life

7. Keep a Journal — Not for looking backward, but to force you to think about what you’re doing now. I should have done this earlier.

Ryan ends his post with a paragraph from Mozart, who lived to be 35 but filled those years with many, many decades of life and work…

Howard Marks on Market Excesses

How Big Oil Will Die

A Dozen Ideas from Charlie Munger

Tren Griffin of 25iq has done another wonderful post, this time on compiling a dozen thoughts from Charlie Munger from the 2017 Berkshire AGM, including this one…

Genius of Jeff Bezos

Sean Iddings has written a nice post tracking the genius of Amazon’s founder Jeff Bezos…

Jeff Bezos was able to see differently than nearly everybody else in the early 2000’s, and continues today, largely in part to his fanatical preparation.

This phenomenon is perfectly observed in 2003 and is repeating again today.

Keep in Touch with People

Be the butterfly whose wings can create a positive hurricane in someone’s life. A lovely post from my friend Vishal Kataria…

Compounding Goodwill

But what most people miss is that the real beauty of compounding lies not in wealth creation, but in another, more important, area of life too. It’s called goodwill that you create in this world.

In his book, Education of a Value Investor, Guy Spier writes about Mohnish Pabrai …

So, what value are you adding to the world? What is it that you’re giving out without any expectation of returns?

As with all matters of compounding, the sooner you start the longer runway you’ll get.

Start today!

The post Safal Niveshak Stream – The Powerful Effect of Compounding Goodwill appeared first on Safal Niveshak.

Safal Niveshak Stream – The Powerful Effect of Compounding Goodwill published first on http://ift.tt/2sCRXMW

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