#Public meetings

[thoughtportal]

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GOP Ottawa County Board Scraps DEI Dept., Fires Health Officer and Top Administrator 

https://gandernewsroom.com/2023/01/06/gop-ottawa-county-board-scraps-dei-dept-fires-health-officer-and-top-administrator/

[bluerosefox]

Family Resemblance

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I had another 11pm brain worm.

Enjoy

-x-x-

Daniel Wayne, the younger toddler brother of Bruce Wayne and the son of Martha and Thomas Wayne had been kidnapped the night their parents were murdered.

Daniel had been snagged the moment their killer heard people headed to the alley and Bruce in his state of shock didn't realize it until it was far to late and could only scream in horror (from everything) as his baby brother is crying his name. (If you wanna make it even more heart wrenching, make it Danny's first time being able to say Bruce's name right and/or Bruce had said some mean things to Danny earlier after he accidentally broke something of Bruce's, something like 'I wish youd go away' or 'I never wanted a brother, you're such a bother!')

Bruce is being held by Alfred as some police officers are chasing down the Wayne's parents killer while some stay behind to see if they could do something.

Minutes turn to hours and as they wait, praying the police at least found Danny, Bruce is ridden with guilt. From his parents death to allowing his brother to be kidnapped.

Eventually the police return to give Alfred and Bruce the news. And it's not good.

The killer escaped and Danny was nowhere to be found.

And it would take many years before he would be found.

-x-x-

Bruce gets a call from Damian during school hours one day. When he answers he is greeted with Damian demanding him to get to the school and explain himself.

Confused Bruce asks what does he mean and Damian responds with

"The two new students in class today are the spitting images of you and I father! Either they are poorly created clones or you have more hidden blood children!"

-x-x-

Meanwhile the very students being discussed are calling up someone too

"Ellie? Dan? What's wrong? You better not have made too much chaos already, I just paid for the uniforms for that place."

"DAD! I THINK ANOTHER ONE OF THE FRUITLOOPS FAILED CLONES SOMEHOW SURVIVED!"

"What?"

[salmonentrees]

this is the Vees. to me.

[biglisbonnews]

Massachusetts Supreme Court upholds Constitutional Right to be a dick at town meetings When you think of town meetings in most American communities, those interstitial scenes from Parks & Recreation might come to mind — lots of random mundane rantings and ramblings from various constituents that are at once tedious and hilarious in their own absurdist way. — Read the rest https://boingboing.net/2023/03/21/massachusetts-supreme-court-upholds-constitutional-right-to-be-a-dick-at-town-meetings.html

[zombie-bait]

"old man yaoi" has become one of my new favourite phrases which is unfortunate because it is inappropriate in roughly 99% of real world scenarios

[telugutimesdigimedia]

Meeting with expatriate Indians in Dubai

Dasu Suresh, founder national president of BC Rajyadhikhara Samiti, informed in a media conference that his delegation will leave for Dubai for the prestigious ongoing Dubai Cultural Fest, various local events and meetings with expatriate Indians on political and business issues.

[chiquilines]

Public garden study date!!

[adriennefrombrooklyn]

for if I ever saw you I didn't catch your name but it never really mattered I will always feel the same love you forever and ever

Woolton Fete [July 6th, 1957]

[izzystizzys]

There is a scratch mark on the floor of the Council chambers that Mace has never noticed before. Not a deep one, mind, quite shallow. This matters because it’s making the white-hot pulse of agony stabbing through his eyeballs ebb momentarily. Then, he chances a glance upwards at the fidgeting Knight in front of them, and it returns in full force.

Huh, he’s never seen Oppo Rancisis’ face turn that colour before.

“Hmm”, Master Yoda hums, deep and scratchy. His expression is unreadable even to Mace beyond a baseline gremlinness, and the force with which he grips the edges of his seat is making his bones creak. Master of the Order you should become, they said. Follow the calling of the Force, you should. A fulfilling purpose, it will be. Mace is going to hunt the little goblin for sport when this is all over, and he’s going to laugh the whole time.

“Show us the livestream again, could you, Knight Parvo?” Yoda asks. Mace bursts a capillary, he’s pretty sure, and so does poor Knight Parvo, whose orange Mon Cala skin tips all the way into blood red with stress. “Most unusual, this is.”

“Absolutely not!”, Ki Adi intervenes before Mace has to, thank the Force for little mercies. Plo Koon’s tusks tremble slightly with either suppressed laughter or abject horror, maybe both, and Stass Allie has her head in her hands. “The holo stills should be enough”, Ki Adi proceeds to add, and Mace has to reconsider all feelings of grace he just felt towards his fellow Councillor.

He never wants to watch Yoda zoom in on someone’s abs again. Or Depa raise her eyebrows at the curve of thighs bent over the dripping front of a speeder.

“Speeder Wash For Our Troops”, his former padawan reads out loud from a still of what has to be hundreds of the things gathered in the public senate parking lot. “Fund Our Boys And Get A Wet Seeing-To!” The series of images features dozens of Coruscant Guard troopers in various stages of unkitted, gleaming and shining with soap suds and water. The fact that the whole thing is also massive shatterpoint after massive shatterpoint is, quite frankly, insulting.

“Well hello- oh dear”, Obi-Wan’s blue form crackles to life in his chair, followed by several sounds of choking that are definitely not him. Good, Mace thinks acidly. If he has to deal with this, then so does kriffing Skywalker. “I’m sorry, why am I looking at Commander Thorn using a washrag like a lasso on top of a speeder?”

“Oh, the Guard’s little fundraising project”, Bail Organa says, as he steps into the Council chambers. Normally, Mace likes the man well enough. Now, he just smiles and adds on, “I’ve already donated, in mine and Breha’s name. Remotely, of course.”

“The Guard’s fundraising speeder wash?”, Obi-Wan repeats, edges of his holo form flickering with what Mace suspects is Skywalker very unsubtly trying to edge in. Force, but the man really is horrible at any and all stealth, like kissing his secret wife in an open arena in front of his Master. “And they are fundraising for…?”

“GAR budget allocations have to come from somewhere”, Organa shrugs. “And with the tide of public opinion turning, they’ve been tending towards cuts. The Guard feels them more keenly than any other sector - they’ve been reduced from half to quarter rations, and medical supplies have not made more than a token appearance in the last draft. The Chancellor has cancelled three consecutive meetings on the matter, and thus it was agreed that a more hands-on approach was needed. Any surplus will go into the Army fund.”

“Surely it can’t be that dire”, Oppo protests, a slightly less concerning shade of purple now. Senator Organa shrugs again, jostling the smattering of cracks slowly building around his person in a way that makes Mace wince quietly. “It’s all publicly available data, Masters.”

It really can be that dire, as it turns out. And quarter rations is only scratching the surface of how dire, considering the Guard has apparently never had access to bacta in all their posting, and also includes requisitioning forms available to the Senate for reconditionings and decommissionings, two words Mace has only heard Ponds whispers amidst shuddering in the early days of the war before Shaak Ti went off and just about tore some throats out over it.

“Alright”, he concedes, rubbing at his temples. “Fair enough, we have failed to tackle a massive blind spot in the Guard’s well being. There is no Jedi assigned to Coruscant, and that’s an oversight on our behalf. But how in the everloving kriff did this get past the Chancellor and Commander Fox?!”

Who have both signed, black on white. Bail Organa smiles cryptically. “Well, if you scroll a bit past that one image, up to the industrial speeder in the back - Commander Fox is currently having credits stuffed into his codpiece in the back, I believe.”

“HE’S WHAT IN THE WHAT NOW”, Commander Cody screeches through the speaker of Obi-Wan’s holo image, and Mace has to summon every bit of Jedi-serenity he possesses in his body to keep from dropkicking a cackling Yoda through the chamber windows.

[queenoffoliage]

Your honor, he was indeed spinning

[spacedace]

Got another DP x DC prompt for yall:

Things in Amity are going bad, the GIW are getting more aggressive and Jack and Maddie are starting to suspect there is something ghostly going on with Danny and Jazz is scared out of her mind and desperate to get them the hell out or dodge before she comes home one day to find her baby brother strapped to a table in the basement or worse.

She knows there's no way she's going to be able to get custody of Danny though (maybe she's still a minor herself, maybe she is over eighteen but it takes more than being a legal adult to get custody of a kid, and Jazz just doesn't have what the government is looking for and she can't risk Danny getting lost in the system) and even if she could, where could they possibly go? Even if they ran away, they don't have any way to survive.

Half out of her mind with stress and exhaustion late one night she ends up digging through their family tree looking for someone, anyone, that looks like they might be able to help, that could at least get them away from Amity Park if nothing else. She and Danny had each other, and literally anything was better then the nightmare creeping ever closer.

And somehow it doesn't even take that long, maybe luck finally shifting their way for once, maybe Clockwork nudging things along just right, but she finds someone.

As far as family relations go, they're on branches as far away from each other as possible while still being on the same tree. And of course the person in question has a pretty massive criminal background and is still super obviously involved in some shady stuff, but Jazz does her research and can see that - criminal mastermind or no - there's no history of vivisecting children or ghost hunting and honestly the Goonion review is pretty glowing.

Besides, Gotham's ambiant ectoplasm is about the same as Amity Park's, it'll help keep Danny (and her, really, as liminal as she is) healthy.

It's a long shot, but short of fleeing to the Ghost Zone and praying their parents don't chase after them, it's all she’s got. So, using one of Tucker's programs, she gets ahold of a phone number and makes the call.

To say that Oswald Cobblepot is surprised by her reaching out and suspicious of her desperate request would be an under statement.

But he knows a con, and this doesn't sound like one. The girl on the other end of the line sounds close to tears, begging him to hear her out, pleading for his help. When he has his people investigate he finds that Jasmine Fenton isn't lying. They are distant cousins - very distant - and the kids' parents are honestly Arkham levels of insane and the kids' teachers have been getting progressively more frantic in their reporting on their concerns. The notes on Daniel Fenton and the number of visible injuries he's been going to school with are particularly concerning. As is the fact that the Drs. Fenton are apparently scientists on top of being entirely mad.

Call Oswald a soft touch, but there's an old childhood wound deep in his heart that has him feeling for the kids, and from what he’s seen of Jasmine - Jazz, she said to call her, and her little brother is Danny, not Daniel - she's got the kind of drive he admires.

And hell it's not as if he can't afford to put them up in an apartment somewhere out of the way if they turn out to be too much trouble. Besides adopting a couple of sad kids from a shitty home can only be good for his reputation, look how well it worked for Bruce Wayne.

Maybe if he plays his cards right, he can set up a play date with the Wayne kids or something, really get some good networking in.

[keirientez]

Pokemon trainer AU, Reborn is the champion meanwhile Tsuna is his apprentice. Tsuna’s design belongs to my friend @Cloud_Knee (Twt or X)

[paeonie-s]

my current read on yoshidas ch is that hes the equivalent of a high schooler being made manager of a mcdonald’s bc all of his adult coworkers quit which leads him to believe that the fate of the world now depends on his ability to keep the drive thru times below 90 seconds

[guzhufuren]

i can be normal about their hands (lies lies lies lies lies)

Uncensored wuxia BL Meet You At The Blossom (2024)

[raionmimi]

I feel like Symmetra would be up Venture's alley specifically because she wouldn't break their immersion if she was starring in a historical film

[mrspasser]

I saw you on the train - Sterek Fanfic

Sterek fanfiction, shamelessly based on this Tumblr post by @tsaiko. (OP, please let me know if I overstepped!) This is also on A03.

I saw you on the train

Derek gets on the subway after work, mentally bracing himself for having to deal with people because he didn’t charge his phone last night. Or he did, but his pup chewed through his charger cable and he frankly didn’t notice the nearly empty battery until he was already at the office. Any other day he loves his old brick of a phone, but today it was a bit of a bother that nobody had a charger that he could borrow. Ergo, he has no music to drone out the conversations of the other passengers.

He makes his way a little down the train car and sits down in an open seat. Across the aisle and one seat down are two men, mid to late twenties. They’re having one of those whisper-shout conversations with each other, where the words at the end of each sentence get louder with their anger, before they remind themselves that they are in public and go back to furious whispering. Derek can tell they are trying to be quiet, but emotions are high. Things are tense between them, it’s obvious within a few minutes of involuntary eavesdropping.

He knows he should try to ignore them, but it’s pretty hard to do. They’re in Derek’s direct line of sight and one of them has the most mesmerising whiskey coloured eyes he has ever seen. Right now, the lines around the young man’s eyes are hard and stressed, yet Derek can imagine the twinkle that would be there when he’s in better spirits. It fits the slight uptick of his nose. Somehow he just knows the guy can be a nuisance in all the best ways. He has an expressive face, which makes him far more interesting to Derek than his more generically handsome partner, who has neatly styled brown hair and blue eyes.

It’s an easy guess that the two of them are in a relationship, even though the expected easy chemistry is missing. But there aren’t many people that would be fighting in public, except when they’re in a close, intimate relationship. It’s a bit odd that they chose to have a discussion about the future of their relationship on the subway during rush hour, but whatever, they probably had a head of steam up on this topic. 

It's a relationship drama that doesn’t involve Derek, yet he’s kind of forced to listen to it as one of the few people without headphones in the direct vicinity. There’s an older woman that glances curiously in the direction of the two men every now and then, but she’s reading a travel guide in a language that Derek can’t place, so chances are her English isn’t good enough to know what the two are talking about. 

The gist of their discussion is that the one with the blue eyes wants to move forward with their relationship, maybe move in together, while Whiskey Eyes wants to slow down. Suddenly, Mr. Generic breaks in with a story about how his mom hates the city, but she moved to New York to stay with his dad and has lived there for twenty years now. And then he actually says the words: “Because relationships are about sacrifices.”

Whiskey Eyes looks like he wants to argue that point - which Derek can understand - yet he decides to follow his boyfriend’s reasoning. “And what have you sacrificed for our relationship?”

The barely hidden sarcasm in the question is apparently lost on Mr. Generic, because he has the audacity to come up with something or other he missed out on because he went with his boyfriend to a wedding. “We flew all the way back to California for your step brother’s wedding. I even had to sleep on the floor of your childhood bedroom!”

Like Derek, Whiskey Eyes is totally unimpressed with that answer and even rolls his eyes. Of course, his boyfriend doesn’t like that and their whispered argument continues. Derek can’t exactly hear what they’re saying, though it’s apparent that things aren’t getting better. Then, in a voice clear as day, Whiskey Eyes asks: “Name one thing I’m interested in.”

Mr. Generic freezes. He does a pretty decent impression of a store mannequin, with the vacant expression and the empty eyes. Derek can almost hear the dial tone coming from his brain. It’s clear that he can’t come up with a single thing that his boyfriend likes. On top of that, he looks confused as to why he’s even asked that question.

Things are quiet after that. The boyfriend tries to talk to Whiskey Eyes a couple of times, but he ignores him and just stares straight ahead. There’s a grim expression on his face, his jaws clenched. Still, the boyfriend doesn’t seem to understand the trouble he got himself in. 

The train pulls up at the station, Derek’s stop, and Whiskey Eyes gets up. “Baby?” Mr. Generic frowns at his partner. “This isn’t our stop.”

Whiskey Eyes gives him a cold glance. “It’s my stop now.” The doors open and he walks out. Just fucking walks off and leaves him on the train. 

Derek almost forgets to get off himself, he gets out just before the doors close. The boyfriend comes to his senses too and he jostles roughly past Derek in his hurry to go after his partner. Or ex-partner, probably. Because Derek sincerely doubts he can recover from that. He almost feels bad for the idiot. Or not, since the contents of Derek’s messenger bag go sprawling across the platform because of his rude shoulder check. 

The platform of the small station empties out quickly, leaving Derek to pick up the notes that spilled from their folder. When he looks up, still on one knee and with his papers in hand, he sees the couple from the train. They’re standing halfway between Derek and the exit and he’s just in time to see Whiskey Eyes pull his arm loose from Mr. Generic’s grip. Their voices echo in the empty station.

“We are through, Matt. I should’ve realised before that it wouldn’t work out, this thing between us.” Whiskey Eyes gestures angrily between them. “If there ever was a thing, because I’m starting to think I was the only one who was really invested.” 

Mr. Generic - Matt - scoffs. “You’re overreacting. And for what? Just because I couldn’t remember the name of your favourite movie from the top of my head? It’s Star Track, or something.”

“Star Trek,” Whiskey Eyes corrects, emphasising the last word. “And my favourite is Star Wars, not Star Trek.” He looks like he’s completely done with his ex-boyfriend’s bullshit. “Good bye, Matt. I’ll ask Lydia to pick up my stuff from your place later. Don’t follow me please.” He turns on his heel and walks to the stairs. 

“Baby…” The now definitely ex-boyfriend tries to keep up with him, but he’s quickly shot down.

“Don’t follow me.” The words are cold and clipped, making the ex-boyfriend stop in his tracks and just watch Whiskey Eyes disappear up the stairs.

Derek briefly makes eye contact with the asshole ex-boyfriend as he too makes his way to the exit. The man ignores him, mumbling something about ‘stupid nerd shit’ as he fumbles his phone from his pocket and simultaneously checks the board for the next train.

Yeah, Derek doesn’t feel sorry for him.

He does feel sorry for the whiskey eyed young man he finds standing forlornly just outside the exit of the train station. The guy just looks so lost that Derek can’t help but go up to him. “Are you okay?” he asks, startling the other.

“What? Oh, yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” Whiskey Eyes hurries to say. Then he looks around him and huffs a small, sad laugh. “Actually, I’m not. I don’t have a clue where I am and I just realised that I left my keys at home and my roommate won’t be home until late tonight.” 

“Shitty day, huh?” Derek remarks, showing him a sympathetic smile. 

“You can say that again,” is the blunt answer. It sounds almost rude, though it’s followed by a rueful smile. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… I mean, I didn’t want to…” Derek isn’t really sure what he’s apologising for and neither seems he. “Sorry. Again. You caught me at a bad time. I just broke up with my… Well, my ex-boyfriend now.”

“I know,” Derek answers and he winces, because it’s clear he was listening in to things that were none of his business. “I mean,” he tries to course correct, “I couldn’t help but overhear. I was on the train too.” 

“You were?” Whiskey Eyes blushes a delicious shade of red. “Fuck. That’s embarrassing.” 

“Nah.” Derek shrugs. “If anything, he’s the one who should be ashamed. Like, who doesn’t know Star Trek apart from Star Wars?”

“I know, right?” He’s still blushing, but it goes well with his smile. 

Derek usually isn’t this forward with strangers, but right now he feels like taking a chance. He could be mistaken, but he doesn’t think he is, not with the shy way Whiskey Eyes is rubbing the back of his neck. So he asks: “Would you like to get something to eat? I’m on my way home and I was planning to get some take out, but if you want, we can go grab a bite together?” 

“Uh, sure!” Whiskey Eyes is only a bit taken aback by his question and seems eager to distract himself from the situation from earlier. “Yeah, why not? I have to wait until my roommate gets home anyway.” Then he holds out his hand. “I’m Stiles, by the way.” 

“Derek.” He takes his hand and is pleased to find it warm and firm. “How do you feel about Thai food?” 

They settle down in the window seat of the small Thai place a block or so from Derek’s home. Stiles declares it the best Tom Kha Kai he has ever had and they discover that they’re born in the same county in California. Derek’s family moved out when he was about twelve years old, yet Stiles’ father still lives there. And so does his recently married step brother.

Conversation flows easily and Derek is happy to discover that Stiles indeed has a very appealing sparkle in his eyes when he’s amused. 

Four months later, they kiss for the first time. Another four months later he finds himself lying on a thin camping mattress on the floor of Stiles’ childhood bedroom. There’s a large Star Wars poster above the bed, with the letters of the opening crawl. Glow in the dark stars that have long lost their shine dot the ceiling. 

A little above him, Stiles rolls so he can look down over the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry my bed is so tiny,” he whispers. “Are you sure you’re okay down there? We can switch!”

Derek catches the hand Stiles extends to him and presses his lips to the knuckles. “I’m fine, sweetheart. It’s just for a couple of nights anyway.”

Stiles smiles fondly at him. “Okay, if you’re sure.” 

“I’m sure,” Derek nods. He presses another kiss to the back of Stiles’ hand. “Now go to sleep, you’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

Stiles yawns and nods. As only son and best man he’s invested in making his father’s wedding day a success. “You really don’t think he’d let me walk him down the aisle?” 

Derek chuckles quietly. They’ve been over this before. “Just leave that part to Scott and his mom. Don’t steal their thunder.” 

“Right.” Stiles caresses the side of Derek’s face one last time and then tucks his arm back underneath his blanket. “Good night, Der. Love you.” 

“I love you too. Good night.”