#i’ll think about it some more and research

[albatris]

rentalcar update!

it's been a hot minute since I did one of these!

today's word count is 75,595...... uh oh! "but it was over 100k a few weeks ago, monday!" yes my process is mysterious and unknowable

today I got a lot of work done due to the being at my friend's house where we just sit around and vibe together. I'm really happy with my progress!

today's mood is a severe lack of sleep and today's jam is "little lies you're told" by joywave

taglist and today's excerpt under the cut! it's jumbly and unedited sowwy

She settled on the couch and immediately sprawled herself out, bringing her legs up onto the cushions and cuddling right up to him, her head nestling down on his shoulder. Nat’s heart pounded in his chest in a rhythm he was certain she could hear. Was she coming onto him? What was this? Why was she so close?

The movie seemed to be about a zombie invasion of a small town in Pennsylvania, but Nat was finding it hard to pay attention. Partially tiredness from his night of work and the emotional stress he was under. Partially his hyper-awareness of Ripley’s presence. The longer the movie wound on, though, and the longer Ripley stayed like that, leaning herself against him all cosy, the more Nat suspected that she was simply just more physically affectionate than he was. What had the care package said about vampires and physical contact? They liked it, right?

Did he like this?

Maybe she would think his pounding heart was just exhilaration from the jump-scares, from watching so many zombie heads get blown off, so many entrails get ripped out. The movie was exceptionally gory. He was—uncomfortable. But he was almost always uncomfortable. He found himself wishing he was home cuddling his cat instead, but he almost always wished he was home instead of out. Even when he was enjoying himself, he was never truly enjoying himself.

Did he like this?

Nat tried to untangle his emotions. Fear, shame, guilt, stress, paranoia—oh, there was relief here, too. Relief and affection. Small flutterings of it. Nat exhaled and tried to release all his tension. He did like this. He hated it, but he liked it.

“What—what’s that thing called?” he asked during one of the movie’s lulls in action. “That thing that gets all up in your brain. The Greeble. The Gerbil.”

Ripley wheezed, laughing. “The Garble?”

“That’s the bastard.”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Do you believe in it?”

“I don’t… not believe in it… I guess.” Ripley reached up to pat Nat’s face, ruffle his hair, playfully. “I mean, do I believe there’s something alive in vampire bodies? Like, wriggling around in the blood and stuff? Something that gives us our power and demands life force in return? Abso-fucking-lutely. Do I believe in—in some big spiritual vampire hivemind god that connects us all? Not really. I think it’s just—a way certain people have of wrapping their heads around the physical. It’s like a comforting delusion, maybe." She stopped for a breath. "Do you believe in the Garble?”

“I don’t know,” Nat said. “I haven’t decided yet. It talks to me. I can feel a presence sometimes. It could be something alive in me, like a parasite. Or it could be a big hivemind god.”

Ripley nodded thoughtfully.

“My friend Alex thinks it’s a spiritual thing, I think,” Nat said. “I wouldn’t call it a delusion exactly. I’ve been delusional. Religion is different.”

“Does your friend think it has, like, a purpose?” Ripley asked. “That’s what I always ask that trips people up. If it’s a religion, if it’s spiritual, what’s the point? What does it all mean? What’s the higher purpose?”

“I dunno. I’ll ask next time I see him, maybe.”

“Here’s a hint: there isn’t a higher purpose,” Ripley said. “It’s all just—just a fucked up medical condition.”

“If it’s a medical condition, why is no one working towards a cure?”

“You think vampires are running around offering themselves up for medical research? We’re not human anymore. If we told people what we really are, that we’re monsters, we’d get cut up into teeny tiny pieces by the government for sure.”

To emphasise Ripley’s point, the lead of the movie ran a chainsaw through a zombie’s decaying chest.

“Yeah,” Nat agreed. “Best not.”

@transmasc-wizard @saturn-iidae @polyaubergine @tracle0 @goosemixtapes @valence-positive @the-one-who-makes-negative-noise @ambiguousfiction @afoolandathief @silverwarewolf @mecharose @vellichor-virgo @plasticseaslug @jetstargenderfuckery @multi-lefaiye @writeouswriter @junoshusband @writing-is-a-martial-art @midnight-and-his-melodiverse @sleepycaprine @cream-and-tea @gailynovelry @lefttigerobservation @indecentpause @somealienquill @cannivalisms @violetfoxsketches @approximately20eggs @mohluskiepedard @desastreus @kk7-rbs @cee-grice @northwyrm @xylophonicsynapse @careful-pyromancer @recapitulation @incandescent-creativity @whole-buncha-snakess @mysticalalleycat @thatonecrowguy @va-nila-bean @televisionjester @excessive-vampires @walkman-cat

[sodaabaa]

boss

jason todd x reader reader is eager to work with the redhood, he's not so thrilled about it.

“GCPD’s got a suspect for the Red Hood, thought you’d be interested.” 

I almost lost my shit. For months I’ve been tracking the Red Hood, fascinated by his methods to deter crime in Gotham... which is near impossible but he somehow managed to do it. 

“Stop lying.” I said to Cindy, one of the forensic scientists at the GCPD, my inside source, also my best friend. 

“I heard it was a tip from some anonymous caller. Called the hotline and gave the name ‘Jason Todd,’ swearing he was the Red Hood.” 

“I’ll be there in ten.” I replied and hung up the phone. 

I rushed to my small closet, stumbling over the clutter of the studio apartment. Being a rookie lawyer left me no time to clean, cook, or do anything outside of researching cases and being the firm’s errand girl. 

I grabbed my nicest pant suit, a navy blue suit and a silky white undershirt. I brushed through my hair as fast as I could and then grabbed my briefcase, bolting out the front door. I was finally gonna meet him. 

“What are you doing here, you’re not allowed back here.” 

I looked behind me where a cop stood, probably the one who made the arrest.

“I’m his attorney.” I lied.

“He didn’t ask for no lawyer.” He said gruffly.

“Well I’m here and he’s my client. I’d like to speak with him.” I held my ground. I was not about to let a beat cop rob me of my chance to meet Gotham’s most notorious vigilante.

The cop rolled his eyes but unlocked the door regardless. 

“You’ve got twenty minutes.” 

“Actually, since there isn’t much evidence, you’ve got only 48 hours to keep him here.” 

The cop didn’t say anything, I gave him a sly smile and braced myself before walking into the dreary room.

The door closed behind me, the man sitting in the chair didn’t even blink.

I took a seat in front of him and almost passed out from the sight of him. His hair was jet black with the exception of a small streak of white that fell in front of his deep blue eyes. His clenched jaw was strong and lips plump. Fading scars peppered his forehead and neck. His large, callused hands were handcuffed in front of him. 

He looked straight at me and it was an effort not to sink into my seat.

“Who are you?” His voice was harsh, deep like he’d just smoked a pack of cigarettes. 

“I’m your knight in shining armor.”

“...Or knight in a navy blue paint suit more like.” I joked, trying to ease the tension. 

I was met with the ever so slight curve of his lips. I’ll take it.

“I didn’t ask for a lawyer.” He replied, tilting his head to the side.

“Well now you’ve got one. I intend to keep you out of Blackgate so work with me.” 

“Why.” Not a question, a demand.

“Because you’re not a bad guy, despite what those morons out there think.” I replied earnestly.

Another smirk, accompanied with a spark in his eyes. 

“Go over the details of your arrest with me.” I said.

So we did, he told me how he got arrested and even gave an alibi for what he was doing last night when Red Hood was out. If he had an alibi, was this even the right guy? 

After going over everything, I left the room to talk with the cops who arrested him and the cops who got the tip. They still had no evidence which gave me the leeway I needed to get him out of here.

“Well detective, you don’t even have reasonable doubt let alone hard evidence. I’d like you to release my client. He’s clearly not the man you’re looking for.” I concluded.

Begrudgingly, the detective did as I asked. He gave me the handcuff keys and I thanked him for his time. 

I walked into the interrogation room with a considerable amount of pep in my step. As I walked in, I dropped the keys on the table in front of him. 

“You’re welcome.” I sang.

He looked at me through his brows and slipped his hands out of the handcuffs before I could even blink. He didn’t even look at the cuffs.

My mouth gaped but before I could say anything he got up and I stepped back, shocked at the size difference between the two of us. My average-leaning-on-small figure was dwarfed by his broad shoulders and chest, he was well over six feet. He rolled his shoulders, I had to keep myself from shuddering. I hadn’t expected this.

“Thank you” was all he said before he left the room. 

Snapping out of my daze I ran after him. By the time I got to the main lobby of the precinct, he was already gone. I ran (more like speed walked) through the people, reaching for the door and bolting outside.

I spotted him walking a few feet away.

“Hey!” I yelled. He didn’t turn.

I sprinted to get to him, “hey!” 

He stopped, sighed, and turned around.

“What?” 

“What?” I mocked. 

“I just saved your ass from going to jail and you just leave like that?” 

“What do you want.” He said, clearly annoyed.

“What I want, is to work with you. Partners. Ever since you took control of the crime ring, crime rates have plummeted and I want to help you.” I explained.

“No.” He said, making to walk away again before I grabbed his arm.

He looked down at where I had grabbed him and then back to me.

“Are you really him?” I asked.

He said nothing, but his eyes darting back to the precinct behind us gave me all the answer I needed. 

“Let me help you.” “I don’t need help.”

“You clearly did today.”

“They weren’t gonna arrest me, no evidence. I didn’t need a lawyer to explain that.” I huffed, looking up at him. “Let me be your partner.” “I work alone.” 

“‘I work alone’” I mocked. 

“Stay away from me.” He ordered.

I opened my mouth to protest again but he leaned towards me, pointing a finger in my face, “I mean it.” 

Then he turned and walked away. I was left standing on the gloomy streets of Gotham. But I’m not going to give up, I won’t stay away.

I dressed in all black, covered up from prying eyes, an attempt to blend into the night to avoid unwanted attention. The cold night air kissed my face as I walked through the neighborhood, using my phone to navigate towards Red Hood’s base. 

I miraculously made it to the area, peering over a dusty brick wall trying to avoid being seen. He wasn’t here, probably patrolling the surrounding area. 

Before I could move, a grimy hand covered my mouth and I started thrashing around.

“Boss is gonna love this one.” A thin accented voice said behind me. My eyes widened, so not only was there two grimy men grabbing hold of me, but they were also going to take me to some “boss.” I silently prayed, please don’t let me die like this, I’m a decent person, I swear I’ll be better. 

I kept thrashing around to no avail, what did I get myself into? 

One held me back while the other put a sack over my head and then the one holding me threw me over his shoulder all while I tried my hardest to fight back, kicking, punching, and screaming. 

I was thrown onto the ground and the sack was lifted off my head, but not before the two men tied my hands behind my back and my legs together in front of me. “What the hell do you want?” I yelled. 

The men merely stepped away and called someone, their “boss” probably. 

I kept trying to get out of the ropes, occasionally stopping to scream and threaten the men. 

I don’t know how much time passed before I heard footsteps behind me. I tensed up. This is really how I’m gonna die. 

I curled my knees into my chest and tucked my head in, trying to protect vital organs and my face in the case that this boss guy was gonna kick me to death.

The footsteps started again, and I lifted just my eyes to see the clunky leather boots stopped in front of me. 

“We caught her snoopin’ around the corner boss, what do you wanna do with her?” One of the men said.

He crouched down, I didn’t think it was possible to tense my entire body anymore. 

I flinched when my chin was met with cold, hard metal. My eyes widened, it was a gun. He used it to lift my chin, my eyes meeting the man in front of me. 

I let out the biggest sigh I’ve ever let out as my body relaxed. 

“It’s just you.” I said, letting my body slump against the wall. 

He turned his head to the men behind him, “get out of my sight, if you pull this shit again I’ll cut pry your eyes out of your empty heads and feed them to you.” His voice was colder than the metal of the gun. 

The men stuttered over apologies and stumbled out of the room.

The Red Hood didn’t untie me though, he merely crouched before me and cocked his head to the side. 

“Are you insane? Do you know what kind of people live in this area? You’re lucky it was my guys who took you and not some rapist creep.” His words were harsh, his voice dark. 

I smiled sheepishly and shrugged, “I told you I want to work with you. I meant it.” 

He shook his head,  “You are insane” he said, but I could hear a twinge of amusement in his voice.

“Do you mind untying me?” I gave him an innocent look, gesturing to the ropes at my ankles.

He leaned in close, his masked face inches away from mine. An arm made its way around my body and with a swift slice of a knife, he cut the ropes binding me. He repeated the same to the ropes around my ankles. He stood up and then leaned over, wrapping a gloved hand around my arm and yanking me up. 

I yelped at the sudden movement but his hand was firm around my upper arm as he turned me to face him. I stumbled but he kept me upright.

“Why do you want to work with me so desperately?” 

“You’re the only one who truly fights for those less fortunate. The system is corrupted from the inside and frankly, the other vigilantes in Gotham aren’t any better at preventing people from getting hurt.” I said, glancing at the bat insignia on his chest.

He seemed to understand the look and paused before saying, “why do you care?” 

A lump formed in my throat, I swallowed. “I was...hurt. By someone, someone with the money and resources to keep my voice stifled. Seven months ago, you killed him. But not before making sure he suffered like all of his victims. You did what the police, what the courts, couldn’t.” 

The hand that was still around my arm lightened its grip. 

“Who?” His voice softened but I could hear the anger.

“James Holder.” My voice was barely above a whisper.

He cursed, removing his hand from my arm.

“What could you possibly help me with?” He asked.

I looked up at him, a smile forming on my lips as I replied, “I have contacts in the GCPD as well as the D.A’s office, I can get you up to date information on anyone who’s hurting people. I know my way around computers and I can protect you from the GCPD. Let me help you, I won’t let you down.” 

He considered for a moment. “Can you handle it? I’m not Batman, I kill and maim and torture. I have no tolerance for anyone who hurts innocent people. If that scares you-” “It doesn’t, I can handle it. I promise.” I cut in before he could finish. 

I could practically feel his eye roll behind that bucket of a mask.

“Fine. But don’t get in my way, you supply information, communicate with me while I patrol and you stay out of danger’s way do you understand me?” 

I hopped up in excitement and clapped my hands, “yes, yes I understand! Thank you, thank you!” I squealed. 

He let out a breath that I assume was a laugh as he shook his head, muttering to himself, she’s crazy.

Honestly, I think he’s right.

He took his helmet-mask off, ruffling a gloved hand through his hair. 

“When do I start boss? And where exactly am I going to work from?” 

He gave me a pointed look, “don’t call me boss. Jason will do.”

[arthur-r]

testosterone meeting complete?!?!?!?!???!!!

[ssreeder]

i know the anon probably didnt have malicious intent but dont feel pressured into writing! we’ll love it anyway, doestn matter if it gets posted next week or next month!

Awwww you’re so sweet thanks for looking out for me :)

I agree I think they were trying to be funny lol, although it is the first time I’ve ever been called a bastard in an ask hah.

You’re amazing as always & I’m so happy you’re still enjoying my fic :)

[sighing-and-all]

i thjnk im going to explode

[kaizokuseb]

so instead of trying to get everyone together to play dnd and commit to a night per month or something, i’m going to have my sister and nephew create characters and then design them a short, casual adventure. i never really intended to be dm, but i’m a writer and also i have the most time and energy to do the harder bit of the setup. it’s also nice and low-pressure with just the three of us playing, so i’m not stressed. i’m having ideas! it actually sounds really fun to create the game for them to explore and keep it balanced and fun for them. now i just have to do everything and wait for the right timing to play, which shouldn’t take long

[clueless1995]

i keep getting recommended teen wolf deep dives on youtube STOP. that is not your place i will only ever listen to my mutuals. you probably don’t even know about derek hale basketball coach who HAS to get the team to state

i am open to recommendations for jenny nicholson/mike’s mic style tv/book recaps though i just want them from you guys and NAWT the algorithm i don’t trust it so if you have any faves PLEASE. my post-surgery fatigue is still going strong and i don’t have the brain power to actually watch shows

[archersartcorner]

A WIP of a comic thingy I’m workin on cus I’m impatient. Sometimes you have an OC who’s specifically there to be inserted into universes where Your Blorbo Needs A Therapist. Doc Laanka’s got her work cut out for her with these two…

… kinda.

[imbellarosa]

.

[fingertipsmp3]

I am so dense sometimes. I was thinking about how I want to write a novel that has the same vibes as a sports manga and I was like “but what sport should I use though 🧐 I don’t know anything about any sports” and then a few seconds later I was like “girl what are you talking about. You’re literally obsessed with tennis”

[quibbs126]

I’ve been looking a bit into the whole bauta mask/costume and honestly, the very idea of it is so fascinating, and the fact that this was actually real is just really cool to me; I would love to see more about it

I feel like we need some media (preferably a video game since I got here from Layton) where there’s a town where nearly everybody is in this outfit, and you can’t tell who’s who and everyone looks like a ghost of some kind, while the whole place just has this eerie atmosphere

If we ever get another Layton game, I would love to have the setting of that game be a place like this, with the cast wondering why everyone wears costumes like this and what this town has to hide, all the while Layton (and perhaps anyone else from the prequels if they’re there) is being constantly reminded of Descole, since the outfits look awfully similar to his (as they seem to be what it’s based on)

I dunno, I just think the bauta is a really cool concept and it should be used more. I mean you can literally have a mysterious town where everybody dresses like they’re in a carnival, why wouldn’t you use it?

[petrichorvoices]

.. perhaps we should make a Native Cecil design

[dkniade]

Note: talks about disassociation (?) and then questions about trauma in the tags

I think sometimes, or maybe all the time, I’m so detached from my emotions that I either write them down like I’m writing down a character analysis or a straight up report of what I did today (I keep so many extensive records you don’t even know), or I draft a poem and choose the most violent yet elaborate metaphors only to lose myself in them and nearly forget what all that stood for to begin with

And finally when I decide to write as “myself” I find it more natural to use second person point of view and talk about a “you”, or even some other persona that looks at me from a third person POV (see above point about character analysis)

What is this detachment, I wonder. This disassociation, even

[i-luvsang]

i hate being on the verge of tears in public !!! and it’s about fucking kpop i need to get a grip!!!!!!!$;73&38&2$.!’$/$3!/‘j$€{€!{£&jhhdjdhwijwgeieiehhejeiddggdneiwiwhuwjeieuebidnejskaowhhrbdieiruruidieieiehndozi&$:$£7:)3&k$$;$&jhdhiahJh

[ohwellokcomputer]

it makes me very sad that I can count on one hand how many of my close friends haven’t 1. spouted misinformation (blood libel really, but when you say “blood libel” around the goyim they start crying) or 2. said something overtly genocidal about Jews in the last few months. i’m really struggling to keep a positive attitude and i’ve found myself isolating from my friends, even the ones who haven’t said anything bad yet, because I don’t want to be around when they do. I just have to keep making excuses for their ignorance, and it’s exhausting. Crazy how none of the “educate yourselves!!!” rhetoric ever applies to Jews and antisemitism-the burden is always on Jews to ensure that we aren’t being slandered or oppressed.

[dadbots]

To do what I want and to do what makes me happy.