#Knowledge Integration

[latest-info]

The Importance of Cross-Disciplinary Learning

Introduction In today’s fast-paced world, the boundaries between different fields of knowledge are increasingly blurred. As we navigate through an era of rapid technological advancements and complex global challenges, the ability to draw from multiple disciplines has never been more crucial. This approach, known as cross-disciplinary learning, involves integrating insights and methodologies from…

[crimsonphantasmagoria]

I do think one of the things that made me saddest about Veilguard was the sheer lack of continuity. And I'm not even talking about worldstates.

Where are the Varterral? Why is Arlathan forest guarded by magical robots instead?

Where are the merchant princes of Antiva? You know, the people who really run Antiva? Not the king, not the Crows?

Why does the Lighthouse exist? Wasn't it implied in the last game that Skyhold was Solas’s fortress? The place where the sky is held back?

Why was Emmrich never a member of a Circle? Why have we forgotten that Nevarra had Circles (although presumably those who managed to become Mortalitasi had much greater freedom than mages elsewhere, they would presumably also all be Harrowed mages from the Circles in Nevarra originally)? Why have we forgotten that Cumberland was home to the College of Enchanters?

Where is the Felicisima Armada? That Isabela was part of? Why does the timeline of Taash's storyline and their mother's work with the Lords clash completely with the Kirkwall timeline?

What do you mean, the Titans are done? Then what was going on with the Titan in the Descent? The one that woke up and started moving around and got soothed by reconnecting itself with Valta? It seems like that Titan was very much alive and well, where are the others? Given that lyrium is alive and the Titan's blood, I can only assume that anyplace where you have actively growing lyrium, you have a living Titan? Why can't the dwarves reconnect with them?

A lot of these are little things...but they all add up. This, combined with the fact that quite a lot of the characters don't seem particularly integrated into the world of Thedas either...

[sakuravalenp]

Don't eat anything else - Part 3 - DP X DC

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Masterpost

Sam had somehow fallen asleep after hours of rolling in her bed, so of course, when her phone started ringing, she was just about ready to send the thing flying across the room. She covered her ears with her pillow, hoping the thing would shut up soon enough, and cursed her past self for leaving the phone in her desk instead of plugging it to the socket that was just behind her bed. She could have already shut the thing off then, but no, she’ll have to get out of bed to do it. She was going to maul whoever decided it was a good idea to call in the middle of the night.

With a resigned huff, she got out of bed and went to the desk, stumbling over the chair because of course she hadn’t pushed it back into the space the desk left for it, and snatched the phone roughly, pulling the charger and making her pencil case fall off the desk. The clattering sounds let her know she had also left that open. She groans, and squints at her phone screen, her eyes complaining at the sudden light, she takes a look at the insistent caller: Tucker. She answers while letting herself fall into the chair.

“Tucker, it’s like two am. You better be dying, or I swear to the ancients I’m throwing your beloved PDA into a natural portal to never be seen again!”

“Check the Phantom chat.” Sam blinked. She was expecting some sort of dramatic response. Then her mind caught up to what her friend had just asked.

“Did Danny text anything!?” The call was already being placed on speaker as she took her phone off her ear and started looking for their chat server.

“You’ll have to check yourself, it’s a full text wall, I’ve just read like- the first paragraph. Just- check it out and call me back when you’ve read it all.”

Sam frowned at the beep of the call being ended. She had never hated so much that their server took so long to load. She understood why; a hidden server that went through the infinite realms? Tucker was a genius for creating it. Still, in times like this the waiting was excruciating.

Danny didn’t tell them anything about his life with Vlad. She would say it screamed red flags, but it was Vlad. The moment the man had gotten custody of Danny all the fire alarms were going off in Sam’s head, and they hadn’t stopped since.

They tried not to push much at the start. The Fentons and Jazz’s death was too fresh, so they just checked in, asking how things were going, trying not to prod. But weeks turned to months, and they hadn’t been able to see Danny, and he was not telling them anything.

They had been keeping tabs of what they could get. Danny checked in at least once a day, until he didn’t. There would be days without response, and then Danny would check in again with some vague excuse. When that became common enough, Danny stopped making up excuses and just directly checking in without explaining the absence.

His texts were useless to understand his situation, other than he was well enough to text them, so their next focus was his public appearance. There weren’t a lot of those, but they would be happy with any scraps they could get. 

Vlad had taken Danny to more than a couple of galas and some political events, proudly flaunting his heir, and yet, there were barely any photos of Danny at said events. It was up in the air whether it was due to Vlad avoiding the pictures getting out or due to how difficult it was to get a clear photo of Danny.

Nevertheless, the few pictures they did get weren’t great. He looked emaciated, lost so much weight, lost any brightness in his eyes. Still, Sam had almost cried from relief the first time they got a picture. The mind can be cruel when there's nothing to hold it back, and Sam had about a thousand terrible thoughts of what Vlad could be doing to Danny. At least he was in one piece. 

Her phone vibrated, letting her know the server had finally loaded. There was a bubble beside the Phantom group chat letting her know there were new texts. She pressed on the group chat and was indeed greeted by a wall of text. She scrolled back to find the beginning.

Hey guys, you’ll probably won’t see this until tomorrow but I needed to write this right away before I started doubting. Not that that’s really a choice at this point, not when the Waynes already left with those notes.

The Waynes? Oh, yeah, Danny had mentioned Vlad had invited them to dinner once. First visitors they would be getting. Sam had idly wondered if she would have gotten a chance to see Danny if her parents were more influential. She had never wished for her parents to be richer before. 

So anyway, the Waynes visiting kind of changed things here a bit. I may not have been really honest about how things were going here with Vlad. Though, you probably already knew that, and I’m sorry, but I don’t know if I can tell you guys. I just don’t think I can get myself to tell you, and I’m so sorry, because you’re always there and deserve the truth, but I can’t. So, let’s just leave as things hadn’t been great, and Vlad was more of a monster than we ever thought he could be. 

Sam didn’t like that, it was terribly vague. What had Vlad done to Danny that he didn’t feel he could tell them? Sure they had been dealing with Danny’s silence, but now he was straight up telling them he couldn’t get himself to talk about it. The fact that he couldn’t even explain what Vlad had done meant it was probably worse than what she imagined.

They’d faced their fair share of horrors over the years while combating the rogues, and there had never been a problem verbalizing it. Something horrible had happened. Sam was going to kill Vlad. She didn’t care what the full story was, if it was bad enough that Danny actively refused to tell them, it was bad enough to revoke Vlad’s right to existence. 

The thing is, I can’t keep this up. The Wayne’s came in, and Vlad's plans for dinner made me realize I couldn’t let this keep going. I managed to sneak a note to Timothy Drake-Wayne. Everyone knows the Waynes have connections to the Justice league.

Sam frowned. The Justice League had been shining for their absence from everything involving Amity. That absence still burned like acid. They’d begged for help. Pleaded. Amity had become a warzone more than once, and no one had come. Would they really show up just because the Waynes got involved?

I know they hadn’t been answering our calls, but now it affected the Waynes. Again, I can’t explain how it affected them, but I’m pretty sure the Waynes will make sure the Justice League gets involved. I had to tell them that Vlad isn’t human. It would only end in an apocalypse if they came looking for Vlad without being prepared. They’ll look for you guys. I told them you had the means to combat him. 

Oh shit. Was she really meeting with the Justice League? In friendly terms? After all the ignored calls, Sam had swore it would be on sight if she ever met the assholes. And if they really showed up just because the Waynes were the ones to call, Sam wasn’t sure if she could keep it civil.

I didn’t reveal myself to the Waynes, I don’t know what the Justice League stand on ghosts is, all this is already a big risk, the GIW are bad enough on their own, there’s no way we would survive the Justice League hunting us, but Vlad needs to be stopped. I need you guys to give them what they need to not be possessed, and the ectoguns that I modified, maybe an ectoshield. Nothing more, they have a good history with non-humans, but I don’t know if we can trust them to not start a hunting campaign after Vlad. Try making it clear that this is a Vlad problem, not a ghost problem. I’m sorry I’m leaving everything to you guys, I can’t do anything from this side.

Her breath trembled. If the Waynes were really able to convince the Justice league to finally intervene, they might have days. She and Tucker needed to prep everything.

Ghost attacks had become rare since the portal was destroyed, but sometimes ghosts still came through naturally forming ones. There couldn’t be a ghost attack while the Justice League was there. Not when they needed to convince them that Vlad was the exception, not the rule.

They needed to get the gear and figure out how to lie to the Justice League convincingly enough that they wouldn’t turn every ghost into collateral damage.

Because Vlad might be the monster. But the League could still be the executioners.

Still, despite all the anxiety running through her veins, Sam felt hopeful. Danny had reached for help, after months of silence he had finally reached for help, and for once there seemed to be a chance they'd see Danny again. 

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

They couldn’t continue reading the paper right away. There was no way to do it. Cass was more sensitive to people's deaths than anyone else in her family, and Bruce had focused on supporting her so he wouldn’t have to think about what he had just eaten. He had helped Cass to the bathroom like he hadn’t vomited as well. Tim had mumbled something about needing a shower, a really long shower, and left. Jason had forgotten the pretender had been bathed in that cursed soup.

He did think about taking the paper and finishing reading it himself, but green edged his vision, rage bursting under the skin, and he needed an outlet, which he didn’t have here. The punch he had thrown onto the wall had already left a mark, and this was a house they rented as Waynes, he couldn’t just trash it all.

He had worked through some breathing exercises Dick had introduced to him. He’ll never tell Dick, but they did work somewhat. It wasn’t really a surprise, Jason knew Dick had anger issues. The bastard seemed like the perfect young adult holding it together these days, but Jason was there for his teenage rebellion, and that was supposedly an improvement from how he had been as Robin. So of course the breathing exercises helped, but it wasn’t enough.

He felt like giving the wall another punch from the frustration, but he had been trying to “redirect his anger” in less violent ways lately, and this was the kind of situation where it would be better to clear his head instead of exploding. He could save the explosion for when they had that reprobate on their hands. 

His phone was pinging and Jason knew it was probably the rest of the family asking for an update. The sudden silence probably got them worried the supposed poison had been something serious, and as the only one in commission at the moment, he should be the one reporting, but he was pretty sure he would crack his phone if he used it right then. His helmet took his attention where it resided on the desk, and he made a decision.

You’re not supposed to ride while you're angry, that’s how accidents happen, but that didn’t apply to people like him. Red Hood spent most of the night in his motorcycle while absolutely furious; they knew how to ride without becoming a public safety issue. 

He grabbed his helmet and screamed before putting it on. “You better don’t read the damn note before I’m back!” And then he was on the road once again. 

He rode around the small city, making the same circle over and over again at maximum speed. Harsh changes in direction that made the adrenaline pump in his veins. It was a good outlet. At some point the green receded enough for him to think clearer. He lowered the speed a bit, and connected his helmet to the comms. The questioning screams from everyone on comms came instantly.

“Shut the fuck up. I can’t understand a single thing you are saying.” As expected, that didn’t have any effect, but a minute later the line went dead silent. Babs must have muted everyone's lines. 

“Hood, what’s the situation? Did the antidote work without problem?” Babs asked.

Jason almost laughed. Antidote. They wished it had just been some stupid poison. “It wasn’t poison, or drugs, Batman and Orphan are… physically fine.”

There was a moment of silence, then Jason could hear the crackle of a line joining the comms again. “What does that mean Todd?” Damian finally asked.

Jason could feel the rage try to creep back at the thought of what really was in the food, he pushed it back. He didn’t want to really talk about what really was in the food. Another crackle. “Little wing? What was in the food?” 

Jason sighed. Why should he be the only one in commission to report back? No, he was glad to not have been anywhere close to that hideous concoction that didn’t have a right to be called food. He turned the speed back up.

“Apparently, Vlad Masters is a cannibal. One in the habit of sharing his taste with others.” The silence in the other line was about what he expected, so was the new explosion of voices that came afterward. 

Yeah, no. Report given. They could deal with the news themselves. Jason disconnected from comms and started riding back to the house. Checking the time on the edge of his helmet screen, he saw he had been riding for quite some time. How has two hours already passed? 

He left the motorcycle in the garage. There was no one there, so Jason wandered inside. He found Tim was sitting on the sofa with his laptop in the living room, the note folded beside him. Bruce sat on a chair beside him still looking pained. Jason talked from the door.

“Did you actually wait for me?”

Tim shrugged and without taking his eye off. “Figured it would be better to read once we were all here.”

“Where’s Cass?” He asked, walking to the opposite side of the couch.

“She asked to be filled in later.” Bruce answered. “It’s better we read the rest of the note already. I can’t imagine what else Danny would like us to know.”

Tim sighed, like someone had asked him to be the one to read the letter instead of him being the one to take it upon himself. He took the note, unfolding it again, and Jason could see he was making an effort to ignore the first line.

“I don’t know who the victims are, or where Vlad gets them, but they’re recently deceased. So somewhere there must be people disappearing constantly. It may not be the same place all the time, or it may not even be the same city. Vlad isn’t human.”

“Fucking great. Just what we were missing. What is it this time? A vampire? He definitely has the aesthetic going for him.” The pretender glared at him for the interruption, but Jason thinks the situation fully justifies his reaction.

Bruce sighed. “Language. Please, go on, Tim.”

“He’s a kind of ghost.” Tim raised an eyebrow but continued reading. “I know it may be hard to believe for outsiders, but ghosts are pretty much a common occurrence in Amity Park.”

“I thought that was just a tourist trap.” Jason commented, which gained him another glare from Tim. Jason didn’t bother to acknowledge it, though, inside, he was quite enjoying getting the little shit annoyed.

Tim huffed, and lowered the note a bit before commenting. “There are quite a few claims of ghost sightings, but we couldn’t find any proof of them when we took a look at Amity while searching for a house to rent.” He turned to the computer and started typing something.

“Even then, those reports were not of great importance, mentions of seeing a figure for a couple a seconds in the corner of a room, of a shadow following them around the city, or a pale little kid running around in the cemetery.” Bruce added. “The whole city works around the theme.The biggest school is called Casper High, and most attractions are named after ghost-related puns. We concluded it was, in fact, a tourist trap.”

“So what, the kid is imagining his guardian isn’t human? Making things up to cope with the fact that he is a cannibal? That-”

“Um. Bruce, you might want to see this.” Tim interrupted him.

His eyes were wide, scanning quickly through a webpage. Jason moved close to see the screen, and so did Bruce, standing up from his chair to lean over the back of the sofa. Tim started reading titles while he passed the mouse over them. 

“Octo-Ghost Assists Kindergarten Party and Almost Becomes The Birthday Girl's Pet. First Ghost Attack of the Week in Casper High, Red huntress Captures It Before It Can Disrupt Class. Ghost Known as Lunch Lady Visits Local Restaurant and Asks for a Cooking Battle With the Owner: See the Unexpected Results. Don’t You Miss When Ghosts Would Interrupt Class at Least Once a Day? A ranting blog by Phan_number1. None of this existed when we were checking Amity!”

“How is that even possible? The Batcomputer should have pinged something if there was anything blocking the information,” Bruce says in what sounded like a monotone voice, but any of his kids could tell he’s alarmed by the fact that so much information was successfully hidden from the Batcomputer. “Try sending a link to Babs.”

Tim goes ahead to do that with the ranting blog, but honestly, Jason couldn’t care less if the oh-so-great Batcomputer missed this.

“So the kid isn’t making things up, great. Can you both have your freak-out about the information blockage after we finish reading the note?” If Tim were a super, Jason would have a hole on his front, he’s sure of it.

Babs: Why are you sending me a recipe for making ghost-themed pie?

Tim looks at the message in disbelief, and clicks on the link he had sent. The ranting blog opens, no pie recipe to be seen. Tim takes a screenshot and tries sending it, but a warning message appears, saying the file is corrupted. He tries to send an image of his gallery, it goes without any problems.

“This is weird. It’s not like any kind of blockage we had seen before. It even redirects links to a page that matches the city's theme.”

“Try sending the image through the Bat server.” Bruce says with a voice that it was more serious than Jason expected, which makes him glance back at the man. 

Bruce is glaring at the computer with a dark expression. Realization hits Tim, and he quickly tries to send the image through the Bat server. It goes through, and even Jason feels relieved at the received checkmark. 

“Okay… okay. So they’re monitoring private conversations, but the Bat server is still safe.” Tim murmurs. Then goes ahead and tries sending the link once more, with a message saying it should open the website shown in the image. 

Oracle: All that link opens is the pie recipe Red Robin. If this is some kind of joke, you know the Bat server is not for that.

Tim rolls his eyes at the response and starts writing down a response, explaining the situation to Babs.

“The link must be blocked by IP Address. Tell her to try using a residential proxy.”

“Already on it.”

Jason hates when the old man understands more about technology than he does. Damn his time in the grave. He had been working on getting up to date, and he can do some basic hacking and whatnot. Enough that he doesn’t need external help for every little thing. But he’s still so far behind. 

Oracle: I’m in. You’re also seeing all these things about ghosts?

Red Robin: Yes. 

Red Robin: Somehow they have the city under a blockage that the Batcomputer wasn’t able to detect.

“Okay. Babs can take care of investigating that. We have a note to finish reading, remember?” Jason says, reaching for the paper Tim had left beside the computer, which Tim promptly snatches back. “Hey!”

“You won’t read it outloud for everyone.”

“According to whom!?”

“Kids…” Bruce sighed, “Continue reading, please, Tim.”

The little shit looked smug for a second before going back to the note.

“Please understand that in general ghosts aren’t bad, it’s just Vlad. But ghosts are powerful, and Vlad is really powerful. This can’t be resolved through normal means. I know the Waynes have contact with the Justice League, so I ask you to please get in contact with them, and don’t get anymore involved. I doubt the Justice league is equipped for the type of ghosts we have in Amity park. My friends Samantha Mason and Tucker Foley know where to find specialized weaponry and protective devices. Please, convince the Justice League to go for them first, it would be a disaster if one of the Justice League was overshadowed by Vlad.” That’s where the letter ended.

“Overshadow?” Bruce echoed.

Tim wasted no time putting the word into Google, which, now that Jason noticed, was decorated with little ghosts. Did Amity have its own Google doodle? The definition of the word popped like any other word would, and Jason wondered if that was something else that was blocked outside the city.

“It seems to be how Amity Parkers refer to possession.” Tim said after skimming the definition.

“What do we know about Samantha Mason and Tucker Foley?” Bruce asked, already in work mode.

“Not much, outside of being known friends of Danny. The Masons are a well positioned family in Amity; they’re new money. Izzy Manson, Samantha's great grandfather, invented a machine that twirled cellophane around deli toothpicks, the patent and inheritance placed the family where it is today. Pamela Manson owns a jewelry brand that’s grown in popularity in the Midwestern elite, while Jeremy Manson is a real estate developer. They often attend galas in Wisconsin, and sometimes in other big cities. Samantha Mason is a known teen activist, and has had her fair share of incidents at galas.” Tim said, as he opened the report he had made before coming to Amity.

“Incidents?” Jason asked.

“She has a sharp tongue and doesn’t seem interested in keeping appearances. It’s well known she isn’t fond of the styles her mother gives her for the galas. In any photo she posted on her personal accounts in the last two years, she has a gothic aesthetic.”

“Ah.”

“There’s less about Tucker Foley. His mother, Angela Foley, works as a chef at a local restaurant called “A Ghost's Secret Recipe.” His father, Maurice Foley, is an IT technician for the city government. Tucker seems to take after his father in his interest in technology, and has a history of winning local programming contests.”

“There’s nothing that really screams “I know how to fight ghosts and have ghost weaponry” is there?” Jason comments.

“Well, this is the information we have while searching with the city's information being blocked. Search for Daniel Fenton on the web,” Bruce says, and when Tim enters the name, a lot of news articles come to light. “We should have suspected something when there weren’t a lot of news articles talking about an explosion taking the life of a whole family.” Tim nods to that.

Jason frowns at the screen. “Are you seeing these titles? Local ghost hunters die from mysterious explosions? Something tells me that the access to weaponry has more to do with Danny’s parents than anything about Samantha and Tucker.” 

“What did we have about the Fentons from the investigation in Gotham?”

“They were supposedly part of the tourist industry, “entertaining tourists with street shows about ghost hunting.” We were literally blocked from one of the most important details of Danny’s life.” Tim groaned. 

Bruce sighed. “Let’s try getting some sleep. We’ll try meeting Samantha and Tucker tomorrow in the late afternoon.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Late afternoon?”

“They’re teenagers. I would prefer to interrupt their class time or disturb them too late. They might not even know we plan to meet with them.”

Tim nodded, already starting with the new background check. “I doubt Masters lets Danny have his own phone.”

Jason unceremoniously closed Tims laptop, putting it aside and carrying the kid in a firefighter carry.

“Trying to rest applies to you too.”

Tim protested as he trashed, trying to get him to let go, and if the pretender had actually been serious about it, Jason may have not been able to keep a hold of him.

“I’ll tell Babs to leave the investigation for tomorrow as well. You’ll have time before we go meet Danny’s friends, so let’s rest for some time first, okay?” Bruce said with that voice he always used when he was treating them like little kids. And if Jason found it soothing, that was between his mind and himself.

Tim groans, but relaxes, accepting defeat, and the kid is asleep before Jason even makes it out the living room. Jason wonders, not for the first time, if Tims ability to basically sleep anywhere, anyway, anytime, would go away if the kid actually followed the sleeping schedule Bruce and Alfred tried imposing, instead of taking random naps around the clock. 

He’s sure the little shit will be back in front of the computer in 30 minutes. Whatever. He already did his mandatory older sibling duty by getting him to stop for a nap. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Next part

[saccharinosis]

Thaumo from @symptomsofdeceit :))

This has been sitting in IBIS Paint for. many months because I started colouring and could not figure out how to 😭😭 I am still not happy with the colouring and I rushed it a lot but I will take it as a learning lesson and experiment with more yan characters (my laundry list of victims after spending so long on this)

I love this squishy guy

[beneathsilverstars]

longfic writers who go more than a week between updates (aka a normal reasonable pace) i am on my knees politely requesting a 1-3 sentence “previously on This Fic” section in the opening author notes for new chapters, so i can fully appreciate each update within the context of the story instead of spending the first 30% of it desperately trying to figure out which half-remembered scenes and emotional beats this fic belongs to. like i’m sure i remember the fic but the problem is i also remember five dozen other fics

[bumpkling]

consider me a house fandom Australian Cultural Liason: here’s some chase family christmas headcanons!

rowan and his mum definitely drag chase and retcon sister along to midnight mass on christmas day. it, as the name suggests, starts at midnight (imagine sitting awake in lousy wooden chairs on CHRISTMAS EVE/DAY as like. an eight year old. catholicism is stupid) and includes receiving communion (the little wafer, and the wine if you’re old enough). there’s a roman catholic communion chant specific to midnight mass for all you latin enjoyers (me): in splendoribus sanctorum, ex utero, ante luciferum, genui te (in the brightness of the saints, from the womb, before the day star, i begot you)

it’s hot and dry this time of year in australia, so spending the whole of christmas day or boxing day at the beach or the pool is common. i imagine chase and his sister competing in made-up competitions — “i bet i can make the water splash taller with a cannonball!” — with their mum as a judge

“classic catches” is a common one: basically, one person throws the cricket ball out across the pool, and the other takes the most spectacular jump/dive they can to try and catch it before landing in the water (there’s a bluey episode about it). we see chase catch pens/case files/miscellaneous objects a few times throughout the show, so i think he’s honed the skill through games like this lol

bundaberg ginger beer is a classic aussie drink for the summer. it’s not alcoholic, and kind of a stronger ginger ale, made in queensland. virtually synonymous with summer. chase feels like an adult holding the heavy glass bottle, sipping it by the pool, trying not to screw up his face at the strong taste

his family have a christmas day lunch with. yes: prawns on the barbecue. but if i catch any of you calling them shrimp i will have harsh words. you’ve been warned

i have no idea whether other places do this, but christmas meals in australia usually feature ‘christmas crackers’ or ‘bonbons’ (there is a bluey episode about these too). they’re paper and kind of shaped like wrapped tootsie rolls, with trinkets, paper crowns, and little joke cards inside the middle. they’re called crackers because you open them by pulling on either side with someone else, tug-of-war style, and when one side breaks, a little fire cracker lights and makes a small explosion with a crack sound. i think chase looooooves the stupid little crowns and wore them all day as a kid.

on boxing day every year, australia hosts a match of test cricket against another international cricket team. cricket is a slow sport (the boxing day test is like five days long), but visit any aussie household with an adult man present, and the boxing day test is absolutely on the tv. it’s one of those things that make most australians patriotic, even if for the rest of the year they couldn’t care less. i don’t think chase was a cricket kid, but he liked watching craig mcdermott’s fast-bowling against india in ‘85. gave him something to talk about with his mates when school started again.

that said, rowan absolutely had tickets to the big game almost every year, either as work gifts or consolation for his wife and kids when he couldn’t (read: didn’t want to) be there during the holiday celebrations. since it’s held at the melbourne cricket ground, chase probably attended a few. they’re gruelling all-day matches, and not exactly entertaining for young kids, but chase probably looks back at the memories fondly: his mum slathering him with zinc and bug spray, constantly yelling at him to keep his hat on, promising to buy him an icecream at half-time

chase seemed pretty aware of his surroundings as a kid, at least in his home. he never failed to catch his mum’s solemn expressions while cleaning up wrapping paper and preparing platters of fruit and cold cuts, while retcon sister played happily with her presents. rowan never labelled his gifts “from Santa”, not even when retcon sister was young enough not to know: their mum always did.

every year, chase was jealous of retcon sister about something. did she get a larger slice of panettone? did she get one more gift from rowan? did she get to be blissfully ignorant on christmas day, swimming and snacking and not having to worry about how many times mum had topped up her white wine, or how heavy her sighs became as the day got hotter? their competition wasn’t always friendly — sometimes he got pissy, and spat cruel insults at her until she ran off to cry in private. neither of them ever told their mother

[kimbapisnotsushi]

There’s a shadow lurking on the fire escape outside of Jay’s apartment.

As much as Jay wants it to be, he already knows it isn’t Jon, because Jon is in China helping Kenan with some kind of arms-trafficking case. Jay would have tagged along, but it’s finals season at MU—he has a collective twenty-five pages to write across all of his classes by Sunday, and three exams over the next two days. It’s hell. He would literally rather risk the goons with laser guns and bombs than finish his projects. 

He doesn’t hear the window slide open. If it is who he thinks it is, he knows he won’t hear anything at all. 

“Robin,” says Jay, without looking up. “Nice of you to drop by.”

“Fifteen seconds.” Robin steps into the dim light of the living room, his arms folded over his chest. “Not bad.”

“Give me a sec, I’m almost done.” Jay hits submit, stretches his arms above his head, stands, and motions Robin to follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through his cabinets and glances over his shoulder. “Can I get you anything? Tea? Hot chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate, please,” says Robin, because apparently he has no qualms about breaking into people’s apartments, but still somehow has manners. “I needed to talk to you about something. Has Jon ever told you about some of my family’s more . . . peculiar habits?”

“Um.” Jay thinks for a minute while he stirs in the hot chocolate powder. “If nobody gets injured during patrol, your butler makes you cookies.”

Robin’s brows pinch. “He said what—never mind, that’s not important. Did he mention anything else?”

“Not that I can remember,” Jay says, as he passes Robin a mug, “but to be fair, pretty much everything your family gets up to is peculiar, even by normal superhero standards.”

“True,” Robin agrees. “In any case, I’m here to discuss one such habit. I’ve been told that it’s an effort most don’t appreciate, but my family finds it necessary, so consider this a courtesy call.”

“How ominous,” Jay says. “All right, lay it on me. What could I possibly help Robin with?”

“I need some of your DNA.”

-- an excerpt from a work-in-progress of the first in my adventures dating superboy, in which jay and damian bond (?)

[3142-redgrave-avenue]

I CANT FUCKING TAKE IT ANYMORE THEY MADE HIM TIKTOK ANIME BOY BAIT. HE IS NOT A DUMB HIMBO THAT CAN’T DO MATH. HIS PERSONALITY IS NOT ALL SMOOTH TALKING FLIRTY WHITE HAIRED GUY WITH A SMIRK. IF HE LOST TO DANCE DANCE REVOLUTION HE WOULD NOT PASS OUT FROM THE SHOCK OF LOSING. HE’D PROBABLY JUST GO: “Aw man.” OR PUNCH THE MACHINE DEPENDING ON WHERE IN THE TIMELINE THAT IS.

THEY MADE HIM INTO A MARKETABLE TIKTOK ANIME BOY AND THATS HOW PEOPLE PERCEIVE HIM

[lokh]

ive been thinking about this but. i think shuro understands laios' character pretty well, but he doesn't value his strengths or interests (monster knowledge). in the DVD extra where laios imagines what would have happened if they'd been on better terms, shuro STILL leaves because he thinks his chances are better with a trained crew (which....... is likely to be true but. look at how he ended up anyway lmao). meanwhile kabru recognises that while the party isnt particularly strong, the reason they get so far in the first place is BECAUSE of what laios knows about monsters. shuro seems aware that laios knows about monsters or has an interest in them, but views this as frivolous and a waste of time and doesn't seem to realise how much this knowledge carried them in the first place

[valyrfia]

being queerbaited is bad and wrong and terrible but what they don't tell you about it is that it gives you a high the likes of you'll never fully come down from

[smile-files]

i have a very cheap get-out-of-jail-free card if i end up off pl bluesky for a while with no reasonable in-character excuse for henry's absence in the story. i won't say what it is but i'm just glad i have it

[authenticity2025]

“Integrity without knowledge is weak and useless, and knowledge without integrity is dangerous and dreadful.” — Samuel Johnson

[alltheglowingeyess]

apollo kids have their own secret language when working in the infirmary. it started out as a mixture of like. latin and sign language (based on circumstances), but when people started catching up/they had patients who already could sign, they just started creating short cuts and throwing together other languages/their mothertongues.

and now, a few years after it began, will, kayla, and austin quite literally have the most hodge-podged, unintelligible form of communication. like one of those secret twin languages except everytime there is a new apollo kid, within a week they are just In The Know

[dk-thrive]

Knowing that you don’t know everything doesn’t turn you into a drooling ignoramus. On the contrary, it liberates your vastly intelligent true nature to see reality as it is, not as your culture taught you to see it.

— Martha Beck, "The Way of Integrity: Finding the Path to Your True Self" (The Open Field, April 13, 2021) (via Alive on All Channels)

[sam-montembeault]

IF YOU’RE STILL DOING THE ASK GAME!!!?

Gally/Army <3 - plane

(I love these two sm LOLLLL)

Joel's sitting near one of the cards booths on the plane — not normally an issue, but one's definitely brewing now.

"You're looking at the fucking cards bud, I saw you doing it," Arber says. "When you're shuffling, I saw you."

Brendan tilts his chin back. "Mad 'cause I'm winning, eh?"

"You shouldn't be — you're fucking, counting cards or some shit, I don't know." Arber looks genuinely pissed.

"I would if I could," Brendan says with complete honesty. It makes Joel almost feel fond.

"Did you catch another sucker, Gally?" Savard calls from the Quebecois contingent, followed by a chorus of snickers.

Arber's face gets red. Joel knows: it's less anger, more embarrassment, but that can be equally a problem for hockey players. Sometimes moreso.

Joel gets up and slides into the cards table booth.

"I'll shuffle," he says.

"Aw, Army," Brendan grins, exaggeratedly reaching up in a stretch then laying his warm arm across Joel's shoulders, "welcome. The house always wins, right?"

"Play fair," Joel says evenly. "Arber deserves it."

"Hell if I want to play cards with him now," Arber says.

"Yeah you do," Brendan says, but Joel ignores him and looks at Arber critically, and smiles. Arber half-smiles back before remembering himself, tugging his face back into a frown.

"You do. You want the chance to beat him or lose for real."

Arber blusters a bit, but sighs. "Yeah, fine. You're right. Deal us in."

...

It's later in Brendan's hotel room, after dinner together, that he turns and looks at Joel, uncharacteristically serious.

"You know you don't have to save my ass all the time, right? It would've been fine. I was gonna rib him a bit then let him go."

Joel hums. "Yeah. But I chose to."

"Saving me on all the penalties," Brendan exclaims, "how am I ever gonna return the favor?"

Joel laughs a little, feeling brave. "I can think of a way."

Brendan frowns. "Wait. Okay, what should I do?"

His next words are quiet but firm. "If you want, you could kiss me."

Brendan freezes up next to him.

"Did I hear that right, buddy?"

Giving Joel an out — but, he doesn't want to take it. He runs a hand through his hair.

"Kiss me, if you want." He won't say it again.

Joel hopes he didn't fuck it all up, but it had to be worth it to try.

The silence draws out for a moment.

"Fuck, I'd do that for free," Brendan says finally. "But I'll still take the penalty kills if it's a package deal."

Joel rolls his eyes, but can't help grinning as he leans in.

[a-typical]

“We can judge our progress by the courage of our questions and the depth of our answers, our willingness to embrace what is true rather than what feels good.” ― Carl Sagan