#not to make general statements but so far
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
housemdork · 3 days ago
Text
house md rewatch: 2x14, "sex kills"
Tumblr media
will i be making the argument that the STD-ridden heart transplant is another marker of wilson's compulsive heterosexuality? keep reading to find out (yes).
another oops! moment, and this time it's all wilson.
in the midst of my thrill over the very end of this episode, i forgot that, overall, i'm not it's biggest fan. i think the patient story is so wild that it deserves more time in the spotlight to be even remotely believable, but instead it's reduced to, very simply put, the bodily dangers of sex lol. but hey - just about anything is better than 2x13.
the flipside of the episode's ethos of "sex kills" is the question of impulse control - do we have it? is it strong enough to suppress or basest desires? can we even go without those basest desires? house md banks more on nurture over nature (and don't think otherwise! house wants us to believe in nature's primacy! but dammit, house does change! he can be nurtured!), but not without some pushback and resistance all encompassed in cheater extraordinaire: early seasons james wilson.
Tumblr media
the episode begins and ends with the zenith of wilson's relationship issues, which house pokes and prods at to no end. at first, nothing happens that we don't already know about: wilson has been cheating on and off on his wife, hasn't spent enough time at home, etc., implying that he has no impulse control. the satisfying twist at the end is that julie has been having an affair all along, anyways, but more on that later.
also important to note is that, when first confronted with house's interest in his cheating, wilson claims that "it's not all about sex, house." he's obviously being facetious here and blindly hoping that julie will accept that his feelings for her, rather than just his infidelity, will absolve him. as i'll expound on, 2x14 then goes on to MOSTLY confirm that most everything is about sex...but please stay tuned because i have so much to say about the scene where wilson finally admits this. look at this mf:
Tumblr media
anyways. the most insane part of this episode isn't just the fact that they transplant a gonnorhea-ridden heart into the primary patient, henry, but that the donor's husband, ronald, admits at the eleventh hour that he's the one who gave laura the STD, effectively killing her. what kills me about this, apart from its general lunacy, is that this attempts to absolve wilson later on. poor cameron, having to hear this batshit confession.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
not only does the laura/ronald debacle debacle between laura/ronald confirms that not only is it (human relationships) always about sex, but that sex trumps rationality. had ronald just told the team that he'd given her gonnorhea, so much could have been avoided. there's something exceptionally disgusting about him vicariously using laura's body to absolve himself, as though if her physical form can do a good deed based on his decision, then he gets some forgiveness out of the equation. it's irrational!
meanwhile, however, the main patient and recipient of laura's STD-ridden heart is henry. the team has myriad diagnoses for him, high among the list some kind of STD. when they find that the issue is in his heart, henry is too old to move up the transplant list, so house goes off the books and selects an inviable heart that they cure after the fact.
one of my favorite pieces of this episode is what he says to house after confessing that he's slept with his estranged wife: "if you're not prepared to look stupid, then nothing great is ever gonna happen, right?"
Tumblr media
first, henry argues that even if sex comes at the cost of rationality, is that always a bad thing? but, secondly, this statement cuts right through house's relationship troubles thus far. his impermeable defenses prohibit him for having any meaningful connections; the times he's shown vulnerability have either gone up in smoke, or only come from his agonizing pain. the messaging between ronald and henry is kinda awkward here, but i love how house synthesizes it by the end.
house indulges in some irrationality of his own in 2x14; clearly, henry's way of thinking has had at least some effect on him. when he appeals to the transplant committee and fails to preset adequate evidence for why henry deserves the heart, he goes on an uncharacteristic tirade about how the criteria they use to determine which lives are worth what. does he make excellent points? yes! does house believe in said points? absolutely not. his stance on abortion proves as much. but the rationale he gives for having made those points is fascinating: "i was advocating for my patient."
house bends over backwards advocating for henry in this episode, actually. he even takes a knee to the groin over it.
Tumblr media
logic and physical pain reason that advocating for henry isn't worth it, and yet, house persists. and isn't there another dilemma that defies logic, that house can't seem to keep his nose out of?
Tumblr media
house treats the impending demise of wilson's marriage with the same analytical lens that he does his patients, but with an undercurrent of emotional care that trumps logical reason. no matter how harsh he is, he's gonna advocate for the serial cheater who's brought all of this ruin unto himself, a lot like ronald brought this ruin onto himself.
departing from chronology for a second, i have to highlight another moment of stupidity on wilson's part. why would he appeal to house like this?
"does it occur to you that maybe...a friend might value concern over glibness? that maybe i'm going through something that i need to have an actual conversation about?"
girl. shut the hell up. you've been saying for the last 36 episodes that house (and the show at large tbh) is about actions over words. of course house isn't going to talk you through this. house's resulting expression says exactly what we're all feeling:
Tumblr media
not to fret: we're reminded, yet again, of actions over words when wilson shows up uninvited at house's place, bags packed, and house invites him in. he doesn't even make a "glib" comment about how he was right all along, that the marriage was on its way out. very "do i wanna know" cover by hozier of them.
i'd even argue that this is a callback to henry's earlier declaration that we shouldn't be afraid to be stupid. wilson does look dumb and naive standing in the doorway, dumber still for having the gall to be sad over a relationship that failed mostly by his hand. but there's always a soft place to fall; he knows that.
now for the real meat of my thoughts on this episode:
the deeper i get into this rewatch, the more i am enthralled with how wilson conceptualizes relationships because it is so limited. as i've said before, everything is transactional to wilson, and he anticipates that everyone around him expects him to give A so that he can yield B. in his marriages, his A is formulaically fulfilling emotional neediness; their B is sex. it sure sounds like i'm characterizing a deranged sociopath!
so why is he so insistent that there's a chance that not everything has to be about sex, and why is he so sad that 2x14 argues for the opposite? i think that wilson wants so badly to break the mold he's cast for himself (sorta sex-crazed), and the idea that he, the king of loving neediness away, wasn't enough to satisfy julie really messes him up.
house is even shocked to hear that julie was the one who decidedly cheated on him. i can't handle this expression:
Tumblr media
they're intentional about using the word "affair," an arrangement that wilson treats as a personal failure. wilson is not angry here. he's disappointed in himself.
Tumblr media
walk with me here lol. henry's first (incorrect) diagnosis is testicular cancer. it's meant as a joke, but it's not for nothing that henry is so horrified over the specter of male sexual dysfunction in an episode that wants us to believe that sex trumps rationality and impulse control. in henry's eyes, if he can't provide sex, then what can he offer his ex wife? how can they continue their relationship?
if wilson can't offer sex to julie, then how can they continue their relationship? in his mind, where everything is sex, not neglect, emotional distance, or anything else, no sex = no relationship. wilson has ceased to be functional.
henry gains his sexual function back via an organ that's poisoned against him. he didn't get an STD through irresponsible sex/irrationality, but he inherited it. the heart is the symbolic center for love (thanks, HH/WH), and in 2x14, the heart wins out over the head time and time again re: sex trumps all. thus, we can explain wilson's sexual dysfunction along similar lines, sans the STD. wilson has "failed" his sexual obligations to julie because heterosexuality is unnatural. he inherited it via social expectations. the heart that wilson has is poisoned against him.
Tumblr media
case and point - once henry is rehabilitated, his heart will work and he can resume his relationship with his ex wife. wilson's version of rehabilitation is showing up at house's door, away from social expectations and, if you'd indulge me, heteronormativity. house and wilson's domesticity is one of house md's longest standing devices, after all.
Tumblr media
this is also why 8x09 is so special to me. wilson is so desperate to understand love in the absence of (heterosexual) sex. it's pathological.
don't even get me started on how wilson can't get it up when he's drunk in later seasons. i'll cross that bridge come season 4.
79 notes · View notes
guyintermittent · 3 days ago
Text
Icarus
Tumblr media Tumblr media
This was initially written for the 'sunburn' prompt(with admittedly quite a loose connection) but I realised literally earlier today that it also worked with the drink prompt(again a fairly loose connection) so I've added that as well lmao
Bit of context: his was written as a scene that I already had "planned" as part of my Gladiator x MotoGP AU that I thought would fit somewhat with the 'sunburn' prompt so naturally I wrote 2.2K words for it!!
----
Dovi wondered what he was doing there. Well, he knew what - the emperor had oh-so casually invited him for dinner and Dovi had oh-so politely accepted. What was so confusing about that?
Well, for one, in all the eight years that Dovi had been a legate and the however-many years before that that he’d served Rome in its armies, Valentino had never once invited Dovi to dinner. They had, of course, eaten together before, at parties and state events and whatnot, but a private dinner? 
It wasn’t like he and Valentino were friends. Colleagues, perhaps? An emperor and one of his many generals. So no, definitely not friends. 
The other thing that made this suspicious was how it had happened. Upon returning from the colosseum that afternoon, Dovi had found a messenger waiting in his house. Not a message left in the care of his staff, but an actual messenger waiting for him to come back with a summons to dinner that Dovi knew was far too polite and official for Valentino to have written it himself. When he’d finished reading, he looked up and saw the messenger waiting patiently, and confirmed that he would attend. The messenger smiled like his answer didn’t matter. It didn’t, really: you couldn’t exactly say “I’m busy” to the grand emperor of Rome. 
A guard greeted him as he approached, bowing his head respectfully, then turned and led Dovi through the gates and up a set of long, low steps. Valentino’s house, or rather palace, on the Palatine was a sight to behold - it wasn’t just the home of an emperor, but also of a man who knew his importance. A man who revelled in it, actually. 
Who even needs a stream diverted through their grounds? Dovi thought, crossing the pale marble bridge, What does he do, piss in it? The idea made him snort, loud enough for the guard to inform him that they were arriving at the doors(finally). 
The great slabs of bronze swung open and Dovi found himself rushed through, a serving girl assuring him that the emperor had been expecting him. 
Of course he has, he summoned me barely an hour ago. 
“Ah, Andrea! I’m so glad you could make it!!” Valentino’s grip on his arm was as tight as a bear trap as he led his guest through another doorway, “Come, sit, we will eat soon.”
Dovi nodded dutifully and took a seat at Valentino’s side. The table clearly wasn’t meant for just two, as it stretched further down the dining hall to the point where Andrea was almost sure he could sit his whole legionary command there and still have room for their families. 
Small talk and small drinks passed the time, and yet the question still itched in the back of his mind: Why am I here, Valentino? 
It would take a few courses of poultry and strange vegetables to get the answer out of him. 
“You visited Márquez.” A statement, not a question. Very clearly not a question, just like the invite earlier.
“Yes, Caesar, I did.” Dovi replied, his voice even and calm, despite the muscles tugging at the corner of his mouth. So this is why I’m here, he thought, you want to know if Marc is plotting to kill you, and if so, you want to make sure that I won’t do it. 
“He’s a dangerous man.” Valentino said, skewering a slice of something Dovi could only identify through a guess. “Very dangerous. Not to be trusted, you know?”
“I know.” Dovi nodded, glancing at an ornate tapestry on the adjacent wall and returning to meet Valentino’s piercing scrutiny.
The emperor studied him for a moment, searching, then seemed to remember himself and smiled, showing off his teeth, “Of course you do. You know!” Valentino chuckled, dropping his head back, “You know what he did. You know what you did.” 
Dovi only nodded again, slowly. He knew. The gods knew that he knew.
Valentino only stared at him, like he was trying to read a language that he thought he understood but was only just realising he didn’t. Upon coming to the understanding that he couldn’t gain anything from this, Valentino slapped his palms against the tabletop and clapped, suggesting wine in the courtyard. Naturally, Dovi agreed. Despite how… unusual Valentino was acting, Dovi couldn’t help but want to engage with him properly. He was the emperor, after all, everyone found him intriguing at the very least. 
There were cups waiting for them already: ceramic and sanguine. They sat down on lavish benches, each taking a testing sip of the wine: Valentino sniffed his first, then sipped it very delicately, eyeing the cup suspiciously, and then after a pause and a small smile, took a longer, more savouring swig, whereas Dovi sucked it between his teeth, allowing the taste to flood his mouth and pour over his tongue. The wine was alright, objectively, and Dovi was sure that plenty of senators and other similar folk would proclaim that it was the finest in the empire, especially with Valentino present. In reality, the taste was fine, but it was acidic enough to make Dovi want to scrunch his lips up his nose after a sip that was too bold. 
Why am I here? Again, it felt like Valentino was carefully ignoring the elephant in the room. It’s Marc, I know that. But why?
After more small talk, news that wasn’t that new and anecdotes about foolish politicians and senate gossip, it seemed that the emperor had run out of artless stalling.
“You know, Andrea, the, eh, the Greeks, they have this… story, that I have found quite fascinating…” Valentino stood, his back to Dovi as he appeared to speak to a sculpture of Mars. 
Dovi raised his eyebrows, expressing the kind of small intrigue usually reserved for drunks and small children. 
“They talk of a boy and his father who were locked in- well, the story changes, but for this well say that they were locked in a tower.” Small hand gestures that mimicked Valentino’s way of speech filled the air, although they didn’t illustrate much. “The father was a great inventor responsible for the creation of many things that… well, they’re not relevant right now. This inventor built wings for his son and himself, to take them out of the tower and to their freedom.”
What’s your point with this? Dovi took another delicate sip of his wine. I know you have one, I just hope you get to it before tomorrow morning.
Valentino paused to sigh dramatically “But when they did escape, this boy made a foolish decision. You see, being stuck in a tower, he had never really experienced the sun, not like we do, safely and moderately. The boy thought that his wings made him invincible, and up and up and up he flew towards the sun. He found a new joy in its warmth, and he just wanted more. He didn’t understand the true nature of the sun’s warmth, how quickly it could turn. How quickly it could burn. The closer he got, the more dangerous it became. He didn’t even notice the heat, even while it scorched the feathers of his wings and melted the wax that held them together.”
Another pause. Dovi began to understand what Valentino was really talking about. This had nothing to do with the Greeks or their tales. Not really.
“He only noticed when the sun burnt his skin, heat becoming pain, pain becoming agony, flight becoming fall. By then it was too late. His blind trust in the joy he felt from the sun’s warmth became his downfall.” Valentino barked a laugh. “Literally! His father could do nothing to help him, no one could. It had been his own fault, despite his father’s warnings not to fly too high, he fell due to his own… ah, what is the word….? Hubris! He trusted himself and the sun too much, rather than listen to those who were experienced. And it killed him. By the time he hit the water he was going so fast it was like solid stone.” 
Another sigh escaped the emperor as he shook his head, although when he raised his eyes his gaze was careful, assessing. Dovi took another long, slow sip and fought the urge to grimace as the taste puckered his throat. 
“Not a happy story.” He said finally.
Valentino laughed “No! It isn’t! But you understand, yes? It was the boy’s fault. His father warned him, his father who was more used to the sun, who had encountered it before where the boy had not. He would have been fine - alive, unscathed, unburned - had he listened.”.
Dovi hadn’t met Marc prior to any of the recent shit show with him in the colosseum, but he’d heard about him. 
“One of the emperor’s new favourite generals,” One of his senior centurions had informed him, something like a year before this strange dinner, “Very young, I hear, and pretty. If you ask me, that may be why he likes him so much, if you see what I’m saying.”
He had also heard that he was bright, and charismatic, although not quite like Valentino was. He’d heard that Marc’s men spoke highly of him and praised him for the passion and energy he brought to the battlefield. He’d heard that when Dani had semi-retired from his position as legate, he had entrusted Marc with the charge of his legion at only 20 years old. 
He’d heard all that, but had never met him. Not that he’d been especially bothered about it, he’d been pretty sure he already understood who Marc was without meeting him: he was the emperor’s golden boy who also happened to be one of Rome’s fiercest legates. An overgrown teenager with a hell of a lot of power and influence.
But having seen Marc fight in the colosseum earlier that day, and having then met him that afternoon, Dovi was beginning to reconsider his initial assessment. Valentino’s current view of Marc appeared to be wildly different to his previous one, and wildly different to pretty much anything Dovi had so far picked up about the guy. 
He needed to think about what he knew, about how Marc appeared to different people:
Valentino: wonderful, one of his favourite generals.
Senior centurion: young and pretty.
Assorted politicians: bright and charismatic(but not like Valentino).
Marc’s army: passionate and energetic in battle and as a general.
Dani(although not explicitly): clearly trustworthy and skilled enough to take over his armies, even at 20 years old.
Dovi(initially): young, hungry and powerful.
Dovi(after the colosseum): fucking incredible.
Dovi(after visiting Marc): very lonely. very afraid. very interesting. a little insane. pretty. 
Valentino(now): dangerous. like the sun. appealing in the same way a poisonous plant is appealing. or the same way sunlight is appealing until your skin burns and boils.
“You understand what I’m saying, don’t you, Andrea?” Valentino’s voice cut through his thoughts.
Does he really think I’m that stupid? 
“Yes, Caesar.” 
“About… well you know.”
“Yes, Caesar. I understand.” 
Seriously - choosing the battlefield over the senate house doesn’t make me an idiot.
More drinks and fruits that weren’t all that filling. More talk of senators and legates and menial affairs. More stars emerging in the sky.
By the time Dovi said goodbye, they must’ve been more than halfway through the night, his tongue heavy in his mouth and his vision both sharp and unfocused at the same time. 
Just as he stepped out the door, Valentino curled his fingers around his arm.
“Andrea. You will remember what I said, won’t you?” He smiled, although there was nothing soft or kind in his eyes.
“Of course.”
But I can make my own judgments, thanks.
Valentino scanned his face, eyes searching for a slip of a smile or flicker of doubt, “Good! The Greeks, you know, they can be very wise people.”
Dovi only nodded before turning back down the path towards the gates, once again escorted by a guard. As he left the emperor’s house in the distance, Dovi considered what he’d said.
He wasn’t stupid enough to think Marc was harmless - no, he’d seen him in the colosseum, had seen the dark stains under his fingernails when he’d visited, had seen the heated glow in his eyes up close - he knew he was dangerous without Valentino trying to tell him through some bullshit metaphor. 
But he knew more than that too. Knew that Marc was fucking terrified, although he wouldn’t admit it, and knew that Marc was more than just some wild, scheming force. That much he’d managed to see in their conversation earlier that day. 
And he certainly wasn’t appreciative of Valentino’s barely concealed threat. Dovi understood, of course, that Valentino wasn’t only talking about Marc’s potential to be dangerous. He wondered what exactly Valentino’s little story implied about his own experiences.
“His father warned him, his father who was more used to the sun, who had encountered it before where the boy had not.”
It seemed a little like Valentino may not have been telling him the truth about Marc initially - at least not the whole truth.
Now, that Dovi found interesting. Almost as interesting as Marc himself.
Almost.
Dovi spent a few quiet moments gazing at the vast, shadowy figure of the colosseum before retiring to bed that night.
---
this was my first fic that I actually felt like sharing since I was like 13 and on amino sooooo yk, I hope you liked it!!! :)
20 notes · View notes
gazemaizeisdead · 2 days ago
Note
despite the parallels in terms of cultural dominance, the proper comparison to undertale isn't homestuck, it's problem sleuth. (whether deltarune will live up to homestuck expectations remains to be seen but so far other than the first episode which was meh (not unlike Act 1 and 2!) i'm rather confident it will)
having replayed undertale recently, it actually is as good as the hype says. undertale mechanically is meh but as a story, as an experience, it's so fucking tight! UT sets itself apart from the crowd by really, really caring about the player's time. there's so little filler in UT (i suspect this is partially a natural byproduct of having a one-man dev team), it has the cadence and rhythm of a well-rehearsed standup routine. at a normal pace an hour into a regular pacifist run has the player already into hotland, where they've already been exposed to more clever humor, music, and lore than the first twenty hours of an average jrpg. there's criticism to be had towards UT and DR but they are also some of the only videogame-adjacent things that I can describe as "actually consistently funny" and if you are able to do this, as it turns out, you can get away with a lot in an arena where the average gamer's idea of funny videogame is borderlands 2
The game really does expect you to play it both ways, genocide and pacifist, which makes all its smarmy fourth-wall accusatory statements in genocide seem pretty hollow and pathetic in the end, no?
does it? UT came off to me as a game that really did account for player choice, in the way that different people could have wildly different experiences playing it; there are a few lines in the genocide run that actively make fun of people who are watching it on youtube or through a streamer instead of doing it themselves! all the monsters in the game say pls don't murder me and if you murder them they go wtf why did you murder me, what's wrong with you, why is that swarmy? just don't murder those guys if you don't want to get the don't murder lecture by the don't murder lecture skeleton, it's not that deep man. i think the addition of all the "neutral" endings makes UT feel a lot more cohesive and real than say, bioshock (where it is a true binary situation). i like that you can kill everyone except papyrus and a dog and then everybody still thinks you're an asshole but, you know, they throw their hands up and say what are you gonna do. it's good shit.
by all accounts a Genocide run is a tedious, boring, and grindy slog that mandates you systematically root out and kill every generic enemy, with the only reward being two good and challenging boss fights.
remember that the genocide run was intended to essentially be an irl creepypasta secret run and i think it accomplishes that perfectly! a full genocide run is about three hours; yes, there's grinding, but no more than i think is necessary to make the point the game is trying to.
You've written extensively on Homestuck and its various progeny, I was wondering what your thoughts are on Undertale and Deltarune? In terms of exposure and cultural grip they seem to have eclipsed their forebears while retaining some of its DNA. Both works seem to, while eschewing some core Hussie-isms, retain an experimental mindset to their respective media as well as an interest in grappling with metanarrative topics.
I've only played Undertale, not Deltarune. On top of that, the last time I played Undertale was shortly after it came out, in 2015 or 2016. On top of THAT, I only played Undertale once, doing a pacifist run.
When I played Undertale in 2015, I loved it. It definitely "feels" Homestuck; it's as much as a spiritual successor to Homestuck you could ever get, created by Andrew Hussie's direct acolyte. You have the same humor, the same metafictional style, and the same music (sometimes literally the same music, in the case of Megalovania). There was a time where I would have counted it among my top 10 video games, a very prestigious list that otherwise consists of Final Fantasy 6, Cave Story, and 7 Nintendo games. (Actually Elden Ring is probably in that top 10 now, so I'm slightly more diversified.)
My interest in it has cooled significantly since then, though. Undertale has the same issue nearly all games with a moral choice element have, which is that they are only really interesting to play at the extremes (i.e., full good or full evil), and on top of that, by all accounts a Genocide run is a tedious, boring, and grindy slog that mandates you systematically root out and kill every generic enemy, with the only reward being two good and challenging boss fights. By playing the game only one, and only as a pacifist, I played the game the "correct" way, as any deviation from that route will openly accuse the player of being a piece of shit, but I also played the game in a way that most directly leads to a less complex, less fulfilling, and ultimately more forgettable experience. The game really does expect you to play it both ways, genocide and pacifist, which makes all its smarmy fourth-wall accusatory statements in genocide seem pretty hollow and pathetic in the end, no? It calls into question the whole thematic premise of the story, the whole metafictional element, and once that's gone all that really remains is some cute characters, memorable iconography, and banger music, which is all fine in its own right but not really something I'd consider a titan of the medium. It winds up feeling like a pale shadow of both Homestuck -- less expansive, less ambitious, less complex -- and its more oblique moral choice metacommentary forefather, Spec Ops The Line, which tied its question of the player's ability to choose good or evil within the rigid confines of a game to a real world soldier's ability to choose good or evil within the rigid confines of the military structures that guide them. (Spec Ops The Line is very Ender's Game in that regard.)
Again, though, it's been 10 years since I played it, so I might have forgotten some key component of what impressed me so much back then.
29 notes · View notes
autumn-may · 1 year ago
Text
being a kh mobile fan is so funny because all the kh content i see is going off about motifs and parallels and the development within both the light/dark and interpersonal connection themes and dissecting how it affects the other events within the story… and then i go to the kh main tag and its ‘Top ten reasons sora and riku should make out on kairis grave (and this will make kairi a better character)’
143 notes · View notes
timelyquantums · 6 months ago
Text
methinks if you hc argenti as tribios' father you should be boiled....
6 notes · View notes
panvani · 8 months ago
Text
Ig sort of my thesis for the sum total gender discourse within PH is it mostly comes off as very off the cuff
4 notes · View notes
goldensunset · 11 months ago
Note
re: the music rant I tagged you in I am so sorry for tagging you in my double-dose caffeine fueled haterism explosion post. truly was off the shits and did not realize how much random garbage talking points I was ready to spill on the first person to ask
but i love haterism…..
#truly i really don’t care if ppl like those artists. they do so for good reason#but it’s just impossible to see it as like. particularly noteworthy and countercultural or anything anymore?#like obv it’ll never be on the same mainstream level of like taylor swift or w/e#but as far as being ‘weird’ or ‘fringe’ it’s like. safe weird. safe fringe#mainstream weird or mainstream fringe to use an oxymoron#there’s nothing wrong with enjoying something with a large community that makes you feel something#but it just isn’t particularly striking as far as making a statement about how unique you are#not that you need to be unique to be cool#but i think a lot of people truly do see it as a thing that makes them special or even superior#it’s not harmful at all just a little silly#and truly when every young neurodivergent well-off internet dweller is doing it. well it’s not totally weird is it#safe and sanitized weirdness#either that or to get back to the point if it is true weirdness then it’s like yeah are you sure this goes on that character playlist LOL#maybe the other bigger threat is when stuff is genuinely good and raw and unique and strange#art that’s screaming something out#and it gets watered down into something incredibly generic#like this lament about the singer’s very real life is like ‘woagh this is just like these two fictional white men who have never met’#less ‘morally wrong’ and more ‘hardcore cringe at best and in poor taste at worst’#or like. what if it is an EXTREMELY specific situation genuinely#why is it on every playlist 🤔#the answer is bc it goes hard of course so who am i to say they’re wrong for having fun#but behind the scenes in secret i’ll be laughing sinisterly#like everybody in the world thinks Their Artist is the most freakish unique and special artist. including swifties#fact of the matter there’s always something weirder. even the stuff i listen to i am well aware could be so much freakier#is there really any point in making it a competition of how weird you are#just listen to what appeals to you and stop acting like you’re the main character idk#asks#dj-of-the-coven#ok i’m done now. hope none of this sounded too bitter and judgmental
3 notes · View notes
darcyolsson · 3 months ago
Text
in loving memory of tumblr's april fools' pranks 💐 2014 - 2024
icymi, tumblr used to do an elaborate april fool's prank every year, but this year they suddenly stopped. here's a somewhat detailed recap of everything they did over the decade:
2013 - mishapocalypse (honourable mention): tumblr staff didn’t start doing april fools until 2014, but the mishapocalypse happened on tumblr in 2013 and i feel like this list would be incomplete without it
2014 - tumblrpro: upon opening your dash you were greeted by an “inspirational” video, that ended with the option to get “tumblrpro (for free)”. all it did was put a top hat on your icon.
2015 - tumblr executivesuite/coppy: a copying machine appeared in the corner of your dash. it would offer tips on how to use tumblr, like clippy the paperclip used to do in microsoft word. as the day went on, it slowly broke down and died right in front of your eyes. many people hated him (but not me). you could also make a (small) spreadsheet. @executivesuite2016 is the official blog.
2016 - this is decision/lizard election/tumblrdecides: a parody of the 2016 US elections. there were 4 lizards (well, one of them turned out to be a salamander in a scandal) to vote for. the dash looked different and there was a live news report with election updates, as well as an election blog for each lizard. they all had their own slogans and you would get an "i voted" button after you voted that would get slapped next to your icon. there were built-in functions to make an election poster for your favourite lizard and to create a text post that supported your lizard of choice that autogenerated a statement for all your followers to read. imo tumblr’s april fools peak. @thisisdecision2016-blog is the official blog, @mop-2016-blog @wretchedtooth @timefordeborah-blog were candidates. rick also had a blog (rick-official) but that now seems to have vanished because he ended up dropping out of the election. mop won, if you're curious. by far the most elaborate prank tumblr ever did.
2017 - horse friend: a tamagotchi-inspired game where you had to take care of a little horse in the corner of your screen. it came with a randomly generated name, and you had to feed and clean up after it. if you didnt take good care of it, it died. you could then hatch (yes, hatch) a new one. there was also an option to look at the names of all your dead horses. this is now available to buy in the tumblr shop. @horse-friends is the official blog.
2018 - tumblcoin: a parody of cryptocurrency (this was the year bitcoin took off). you could ‘invest’ in tumblcoin, with which you could in turn buy things with to spice up your dash, including last year’s horse friend, coppy from 2015, and a frame for around your icon. you could share the amount of tumblcoin you owned in an automatically generated gif post which would be tagged #tbc2018 and #tumblcoin. @tumblcoin is the official blog.
2019 - @memories: this blog still functions the way it did on april fools itself! it's like mad libs, where it takes post templates and then adds in tags you use a lot and users you frequently interact with on your main blog. like a personalized shitpost bot.
2020 - group chat prank/@storybot: it was so hard to find info on this because it was contained entirely in the now-defunct group chat function, which no one used. i had to go through the notes of this post for information because no one cared enough to actually write anything explaining it. turns out, you could write a story with your mutuals by adding storybot to your group chat. it also kept working after april fools (well, up until the group chats were deleted) just like memories. many people missed out on it entirely because they did not use the group chat function.
2021 - tumblcryptids: tumblr allowed you to adopt “non-fungible tumblcryptids”, a parody of NFTs. clicking a button that said "Summon thy Tumblrcryptid" would spawn an image of a little blob-shaped creature with a short description, which would always read "Hi! My name is [randomly generated name]. I love [thing most people like]. I hate [thing most people dislike]. Like my parent, I can't get enough of #[tag from your main blog]." you could share them in a post, which would automatically add the tag #NFTumblcryptids to your post. and yes, people on the piss on the poor website freaked out about it because they thought they were real NFTs harming the environment. @tumblcryptidadoptioncenter is the official blog.
2022 - click-a-thon: when you clicked a light switch on your dashboard, a bunch of colourful things showed up, like a sponge you could move around, an "engagament meter", clickable buttons, and a “Summon Crab!” button, which would summon a crab when you clicked it. you could. the crabs, like horse friend, are still available in the tumblr store as of 2025. here's some screenshots. there were various ways to share your crab activities, which would all get tagged #april fools 2022. the prank was presented as a marketing technique created by Brick Whartley, a fictional businessman character created by tumblr, who (afaik) originated in a post on the official blog of the 2018 april fools prank, albeit originally in a different role. around this time he also started functioning as the mascot for tumblr's shop ( @emporium )
2023 - abstract reactions (emoji reacts): buttons were added to every post that allowed you to add emoji reactions, many of them based on tumblr inside jokes (horse as a reference to horse plinko/horse friend, vanilla for the vanilla extract meme, pikaman, bug for bug race, and brick whartley, who wasn't a meme but staff really wanted him to be). if one specific emoji was used a certain amount of times it would add an effect to the post, eg many cheese emoji reacts would cover the post in cheese. this was also attributed to Brick Whartley ("his" blog @brickwhartley also documented the day)
2024 - boop-o-meter: allowed you to “boop” other users who had opted in to the booping, like facebook’s poke feature back in the day. depending on how long you held the button, you would either boop, super boop, or evil boop. on the dashboard there was a counter for both how many times you had booped others and how many times others had booped you, as well as how many boops were given side-wide. when booping someone, an image of a cat paw appeared. you would get badges (which can still be used) for booping 1, 100 and 1000 times. if you gave/received more than 999 boops, the counter would switch to showing a three-letter word (see this post for specifics). this was brought back for halloween 2024 (as BOOp-o-meter. get it), with a ghost, skeleton and mummy paw. no official blog, but here's an official recap for april first from staff. i believe this was the only april fools prank that was mobile user friendly.
2025 - @fandom is running some polls, i guess
21K notes · View notes
photomatt · 1 year ago
Note
You gonna do anything or make any statement about the rampant transmisogyny on this hellsite, especially in cases like predstrogen recently? Or yall gonna stay silent and keep letting/making us get pushed off of it.
I have a number of asks about this, so this is to address all of them, I won't do each individually.
We generally do not comment on individual cases, but because there seems to be mass misinformation around this, I will make an exception and comment on predstrogen.
First, Tumblr has a number of LGBT+ including trans people on staff, and they see things from the inside fully, and they're not protesting this case.
Why do we wrongly have a transphobe reputation? We did have an external contract moderator last year that was making transphobic moderation (and also selling moderation, criminally). As soon as we were aware that person was fired, and we later terminated the entire relationship with that contracting firm and have brought almost everything in-house (at great cost). I have previously commented on this publicly, several times.
I am not aware of any Automattician (people who work at Automattic and Tumblr) who has made any transphobic moderation actions. If it's reported it is investigated immediately, if anything were found that person would be terminated for cause immediately.
Predstrogen's account was suspended for:
Repeated mis-tagging of adult content against Tumblr's community guidelines. This has nothing to do with clothed transition photos, she had 20+ other blogs and multiple accounts with names so explicit I can't post them here without a mature tag.
Multiple cases of harassment of other Tumblr users, not just me.
Multiple threats of violence, not just the one I share below.
These represent a breach of our Terms of Service, and we've exercised our right to refuse service.
Threats of violence are never okay. Threats of violence are not protected speech. We will work with police and FBI where appropriate, though to be clear prestrogen's case hasn't warranted that so far. I'm referring to what we may potentially do for other threats. I just got a death threat yesterday from someone mad about predstrogen, and that account was immediately terminated.
So regardless of whether you still think Tumblr staff is somehow a bunch of transphobes, know that threats of violence or death are still not acceptable and will result in immediate and serious action. Know that when you rile people up, they can do dumb things with possibly permanent consequences.
(2 hours later update: I have changed instances of the pronoun "they" or "their" to "the account" because I am unaware of pronoun preference in this instance and don't want to misgender anyone. Thank you for the people who reported this as an issue. Update 2: "She" is apparently better, the post now says that. Sorry for the mistake.)
Here's one (of many!) examples of the harassment violations, this one targets me but there are others targeting other users on the site.
Tumblr media
The second part seems to indicate she wanted to be suspended, I'm unaware of why, perhaps to create this sort of uproar. I agree the hammers feel silly, but the start, "i hope photomatt dies forever a painful death" is a violation of Tumblr's community guidelines and terms of service.
The car part did hit close to home as I have almost died twice in car accidents.
Update 2: Added this text to the adult content part: This has nothing to do with clothed transition photos, she had 20+ other blogs and multiple accounts with names so explicit I can't post them here without a mature tag.
17K notes · View notes
why-animals-do-the-thing · 1 year ago
Text
There's a viral video circulating from the Fort Worth Zoo, of two keepers who ended up in a habitat at the same time as a silverback gorilla. Spoiler for good news: neither the humans nor the gorilla got hurt. It's a bad situation that ended extremely well, and that's why I want to talk about it.
The audio for this video is mostly someone praying loudly, so if you need to turn the audio off to watch it, you won't miss anything relevant. If you don't want to watch it, here's the summary: it starts with a keeper running around the corner into the main exhibit, pursued by a large male gorilla. She is quickly able to get into a doorway at the back of the exhibit, but does not completely close the door because the gorilla is standing across from her, watching. He eventually moves off to the right hand side of the exhibit, where we can see a keeper is trapped in the corner at the front. She was trying to move towards the exit as he moved to the right, and she stops, standing very still behind a tree, while he stays along the far right wall. They stay like that for a minute, and then the gorilla runs to the front right corner, and the keeper is able to run to the door in the back of the exhibit and get to safety.
Let's start with basic information. Even though it's just going viral now, this video is from October of 2023. It was taken not by a guest, but by the zoo security officer responding to the situation. Hmmm, seems like he maybe should have been doing something else during that situation, instead of than taking a phone video. It's going viral now because the guy (who is no longer employed at the zoo) decided to post it on TikTok for his five minutes of fame. This guy immediately started giving all sorts of media interviews, answering questions like "why no tranquilizers" inappropriately, making memes out of his own video, generally distasteful shit.
Zoo spokesperson Avery Elander gave a public statement that "thankfully, there was no physical contact between keepers and gorilla, and all staff and animals are safe." A comment from the zoo has also indicated that the incident was due to keeper error. (As opposed to, for instance, something in the fencing breaking.) According to the guy who posted the video, a lock was left unsecured and the gorilla was able to open the door to the habitat. I don't know if I buy it, and again, this just... is probably why he doesn't have a job anymore. By sharing that detail - real or not - he places a ton of public scrutiny and blame on that keeper team. (If that's what happened, I can promise you it will have been dealt with internally.) He also was nice enough to say he wouldn't name the women in the video... but verified they're still staffers at the zoo... which means they're eminently identifiable! Excuse me while I ragequit for a second.
So there's two reasons I wanted to talk about this. The first is to make sure it is well known that this guy is purposefully and intentionally exploiting the worst day of someone's life for media attention. Their lives were in danger, and he's using it for fame. His name is in the media articles - I'm not going to share it because he doesn't deserve that attention. The second reason, though, is because this video is a masterclass on how to survive if you end up sharing space with a gorilla. Every zoo person I've spoken to or seen comment on the video is so, so impressed with how the keepers handled themselves.
The gorilla in this video is 34-year-old Elmo. All apes in AZA zoos are managed in protected contact, so keepers are supposed to be separated from them by a barrier at all times. The zookeepers were in the habitat putting out a mid-day meal when he got out. Watching the video, you can see he's not actively being aggressive towards them - he's not making threat displays or trying to approach them. Mostly, Elmo seems like he doesn't know what is going on and he's kinda freaked out about it. (This is confirmed in the zoo's press statement, too). The staff stayed calm, and importantly, watched and waited to see how he'd move and act.
The zoo did say one thing, though, that's a bit misleading. In one article, their press person I quote as saying “In general, gorillas are considered the “gentle giants” of the great ape species.” Just because this may be true in comparison to other great ape species doesn't meant gorilla aren't still incredibly dangerous. This type of messaging always worries me, because I think it leads people to misunderstand the risks of being close to megafauna. Gorilla are extremely strong animals, and their social norms/behaviors are very different from that of humans. That's why it's such a big deal any time people end up in gorilla habitats, and why sometimes in those circumstances lethal measures have to be taken to protect human life.
These keepers are incredibly lucky to be unharmed. These women stayed safe specifically because they're trained professionals who knew how to act around gorilla, they knew this particular animal well, and they'd learned the escapes from the exhibit just in case this ever happened. We should applaud them for their cool heads and quick thinking.
As for the guy who posted the video? As a colleague put it, may he always step on a Lego.
12K notes · View notes
jupiterswasphouse · 21 days ago
Text
Not certain if this has already been posted about here, but iNaturalist recently uploaded a blog post stating that they had received a grant from Google to incorporate new forms of generative AI into their 'computer vision' model.
I'm sure I don't need to tell most of you why this is a horrible idea, that does away with much of the trust gained by the thus far great service that is iNaturalist. But, to elaborate on my point, to collaborate with Google on tools such as these is a slap in the face to much of the userbase, including a multitude of biological experts and conservationists across the globe.
They claim that they will work hard to make sure that the identification information provided by the AI tools is of the highest quality, which I do not entirely doubt from this team. I would hope that there is a thorough vetting process in place for this information (Though, if you need people to vet the information, what's the point of the generative AI over a simple wiki of identification criteria). Nonetheless, if you've seen Google's (or any other tech company's) work in this field in the past, which you likely have, you will know that these tools are not ready to explain the nuances of species identification, as they continue to provide heavy amounts of complete misinformation on a daily basis. Users may be able to provide feedback, but should a casual user look to the AI for an explanation, many would not realize if what they are being told is wrong.
Furthermore, while the data is not entirely my concern, as the service has been using our data for years to train its 'computer vision' model into what it is today, and they claim to have ways to credit people in place, it does make it quite concerning that Google is involved in this deal. I can't say for certain that they will do anything more with the data given, but Google has proven time and again to be highly untrustworthy as a company.
Though, that is something I'm less concerned by than I am by the fact that a non-profit so dedicated to the biodiversity of the earth and the naturalists on it would even dare lock in a deal of this nature. Not only making a deal to create yet another shoehorned misinformation machine, that which has been proven to use more unclean energy and water (among other things) than it's worth for each unsatisfactory and untrustworthy search answer, but doing so with one of the greediest companies on the face of the earth, a beacon of smog shining in colors antithetical to the iNaturalist mission statement. It's a disgrace.
In conclusion, I want to believe in the good of iNaturalist. The point stands, though, that to do this is a step in the worst possible direction. Especially when they, for all intents and purposes, already had a system that works! With their 'computer vision' model providing basic suggestions (if not always accurate in and of itself), and user suggested IDs providing further details and corrections where needed.
If you're an iNaturalist user who stands in opposition to this decision, leave a comment on this blog post, and maybe we can get this overturned.
[Note: Yes, I am aware there is good AI used in science, this is generative AI, which is a different thing entirely. Also, if you come onto this post with strawmen or irrelevant edge-cases I will wring your neck.]
2K notes · View notes
the-rest-of-the-poem · 2 years ago
Text
I like to look at the notes to see the takes everyone makes and no matter what, whenever anything pro israel happens, shit just does not add up. This combined with the continuous censorship of pro palestinians across the internet has me unable to have a "both sides" stance on this situation.
#the fyp delivered me some outright pro israeli posts#i read them and perused the notes too#they all seem to make the same claims#“hamas attack is real” “israel has a right to exist” “the situation is more complicated”#every time these statements are countered. hamas attack is real: so are israel's far more devastating crimes on the palestinian peoples#“israel has a right to exist” doesnt erase the fact that palestinians are being strategically exterminated and driven out of land theyve#lived in for generations#“the situation is complex” yet it remains that the palestinian people are being massacred while the israels wine and dine.#don't let them distract you from the fact that people are being completely slaughtered and pushed out of their land#because in the end that is the certain fact that even they cant deny#think. really think. think for yourself. some people are stuck on the idea that what's “less popular” is always right. and what that is#changes based on what youre surrounded with. if youre surrounded by celebrities and the big news outlets you will be led to#think that the pro palestines are the popular threat that must be squashed#if youre among pro palestine speakers you may lead yourself to think that no one is speaking for the ones suffering from israel#but clear your head from these ideas and focus on what shit actually adds up#in the end. what ideas stay hardly challenged sufficiently? what ideas are easily refuted? see where this leads you.
0 notes
porcupine-girl · 2 years ago
Text
An important message to college students: Why you shouldn't use ChatGPT or other "AI" to write papers.
Here's the thing: Unlike plagiarism, where I can always find the exact source a student used, it's difficult to impossible to prove that a student used ChatGPT to write their paper. Which means I have to grade it as though the student wrote it.
So if your professor can't prove it, why shouldn't you use it?
Well, first off, it doesn't write good papers. Grading them as if the student did write it themself, so far I've given GPT-enhanced papers two Ds and an F.
If you're unlucky enough to get a professor like me, they've designed their assignments to be hard to plagiarize, which means they'll also be hard to get "AI" to write well. To get a good paper out of ChatGPT for my class, you'd have to write a prompt that's so long, with so many specifics, that you might as well just write the paper yourself.
ChatGPT absolutely loves to make broad, vague statements about, for example, what topics a book covers. Sadly for my students, I ask for specific examples from the book, and it's not so good at that. Nor is it good at explaining exactly why that example is connected to a concept from class. To get a good paper out of it, you'd have to have already identified the concepts you want to discuss and the relevant examples, and quite honestly if you can do that it'll be easier to write your own paper than to coax ChatGPT to write a decent paper.
The second reason you shouldn't do it?
IT WILL PUT YOUR PROFESSOR IN A REALLY FUCKING BAD MOOD. WHEN I'M IN A BAD MOOD I AM NOT GOING TO BE GENEROUS WITH MY GRADING.
I can't prove it's written by ChatGPT, but I can tell. It does not write like a college freshman. It writes like a professional copywriter churning out articles for a content farm. And much like a large language model, the more papers written by it I see, the better I get at identifying it, because it turns out there are certain phrases it really, really likes using.
Once I think you're using ChatGPT I will be extremely annoyed while I grade your paper. I will grade it as if you wrote it, but I will not grade it generously. I will not give you the benefit of the doubt if I'm not sure whether you understood a concept or not. I will not squint and try to understand how you thought two things are connected that I do not think are connected.
Moreover, I will continue to not feel generous when calculating your final grade for the class. Usually, if someone has been coming to class regularly all semester, turned things in on time, etc, then I might be willing to give them a tiny bit of help - round a 79.3% up to a B-, say. If you get a 79.3%, you will get your C+ and you'd better be thankful for it, because if you try to complain or claim you weren't using AI, I'll be letting the college's academic disciplinary committee decide what grade you should get.
Eventually my school will probably write actual guidelines for me to follow when I suspect use of AI, but for now, it's the wild west and it is in your best interest to avoid a showdown with me.
12K notes · View notes
downbad4sylus · 6 months ago
Text
“You kept your name”
(part 2 to “I killed you”)
synopsis: You and Sylus take a ride to an eerily familiar field of flowers on the outskirts of the N109 Zone.
content: sylus x afab!reader; reader is MC; use of Y/N; soft!sylus; pre-relationshipish; cameo from the twins; smol angst; tooth-rotting fluff; kissing; possibly canon divergence (i make shit up about present-day sylus since we don’t have all the answers yet); mostly proofread
word count: ~3k (whoops)
tags: @evilldentists; @midiplier; @chillycheem
a/n: incredibly grateful for all the love for the first part so hope you all enjoy the second part just as much!!! anyone interested in a nsfw special part 3 >>;;;)))))
You had a much easier time falling back to sleep than you thought you would. Perhaps the exhaustion of reliving your past coupled with a weight you didn’t even realize you’d had finally being lifted off your shoulders.
When morning came, you woke again nestled in the same position you’d fallen asleep in, head resting on Sylus’s chest listening to his unusually rapid heartbeat. Though now, you supposed, it wasn’t quite so unusual.
You lifted your head and found Sylus still asleep. It was rare for you to wake before him, and you always took the time to admire his sleeping face. Carefully, you ghosted a finger toward his face, intent on lightly tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the shape of his lips—
Sylus’s hand snatched your wrist. “Having fun?” he drawled, not even opening his eyes.
“You ruined my fun before I could start,” you whined, sticking out your bottom lip.
Sylus chuckled and laced his fingers through yours. “Surely you’ll forgive me, won’t you?”
“I guess,” you muttered.
“How generous.”
You propped yourself up by your forearm as Sylus finally opened his eyes to meet your own. “Are you sure it’s okay we go? I know you don’t like being out during the day.”
He brought your linked hands to his face, twisting them to brush his lips along the back of yours. “I’ll be fine,” he assured. “It’s supposed to be overcast today anyway.”
“Okay, as long as you’re sure.”
“I always am with you, sweetie.”
Your heart squeezed. Such an innocuous statement yet it held profound meaning.
Sylus sucked in a deep breath. “Let me at least make us breakfast first before we go.”
You perked up. You loved it when Sylus cooked for you. “Do I get to sit at the island and watch?”
He chuckled. “Of course.”
Hardly able to contain your excitement, you leapt out of bed, dragging Sylus along with you out of the bedroom, into the hallway, all the way to the kitchen. You didn’t even give the man a chance to put on pants.
Rather than sitting at the island, as it was much too far away from him, you perched on the counter beside the stove, watching Sylus expertly cook two perfect omelets. Once they were plated, you both sat at the island, so close your thighs were touching. Before you could pick up your fork and knife, however, Sylus had already cut a piece of his omelet and was holding it in front of your face.
“Open,” he commanded.
You obeyed, cheeks heating as you opened your mouth and he placed the bite on your tongue.
“Now close,” he purred, sliding the fork from your lips, eyes trained intently on yours. “Good kitten.”
Trying very hard not to choke, you chewed the savory bite, moaning at how good it was. Sylus’s lips twitched in smug satisfaction.
“It’s so good, Sy,” you said after you swallowed, already digging in to the omelet on your own plate.
“Only the best for you, sweetie,” Sylus quipped, taking a bite himself.
Sylus insisted on feeding you once he scarfed down his omelet faster than you could keep track of. You protested at first, saying you weren’t a child, but when he pinched your chin and drawled in that deep, silky voice of his “You’ll be a good kitten for me, won’t you?” you folded instantly.
Cheeks as red as his eyes, you let Sylus start feeding you the remaining half of your omelet, losing yourself in the intimate moment—
“Boss? Miss Hunter?”
Your head whipped to the side before you could take the bite Sylus offered, eyes going wide when you found Luke and Kieran standing at the edge of the kitchen. Even with their masks on, you knew they had shit-eating grins on their faces.
“Uh, hi…guys,” you muttered, swiveling on the stool, giving them your back, too embarrassed to face them.
“Were we interrupting something?” Kieran asked.
Sylus placed a hand on your thigh, thumb rubbing soothingly. “Just breakfast,” he stated simply.
“Why are you having breakfast, Boss?” Luke asked. “You aren’t usually awake at this time.”
“Y/N and I are going on an impromptu trip today, which means you’re both in charge while I’m gone.” His voice took a bit of a sharp edge as he said, “I don’t want to be bothered.”
“Of course, Boss,” said Luke.
“You can count on us!” finished Kieran.
Sylus hummed in approval, squeezing your thigh. You looked over at him and was surprised that he was holding another piece of omelet for you to eat.
“Sylus,” you hissed, eyes darting over to where the twins now stood across the island. Did this man have no shame?
He tilted his head. “What’s the matter, sweetie?” he asked teasingly. “Not hungry anymore?”
“Can we have the rest of your omelet, Miss Hunter?”
You turned again, now looking at the twins. The thought of having them witness Sylus feeding you was enough to make you lose what was left of your appetite.
You snatched the fork from Sylus’s hand, threw it onto the plate, and pushed it toward the twins. “Knock yourselves out.”
They cheered their thanks and immediately dug in, lifting their masks only enough so they could shovel fork fulls into their mouths. You ignored Sylus’s frown and instead grabbed his wrist, leading him from the kitchen back to his bedroom.
Around a half hour later, you and Sylus had changed (the man had a closet full of clothes just for you, obviously) and were making your way to his bike.
Staring at the sleek motorcycle, you wondered idly if Sylus preferred riding to driving because it reminded him of flying. You’d ridden on the back of his bike enough times to know he frequently ignored speed limits and you’d even caught him a few times without a helmet. You weren’t sure if the half-crazed lecture you’d given him about not caring about his safety actually got through to him, but Sylus made sure to have a helmet on every time you saw him after that. Not that it mattered, only you could kill him anyway, but that didn’t mean you wanted him to get injured.
Knuckles rapping softly on your forehead tore you from your thoughts.
“Did I lose you, kitten?” Sylus asked with a smirk.
“Sorry,” you breathed. “I was just…thinking.”
His head tilted. “About what?”
You gnawed at your bottom lip, unsure whether to share said thoughts with him.
Sylus pressed his thumb against your lip, tugging it free from your teeth. “Don’t bite your lip,” he murmured. “Tell me what you were thinking.”
“I was wondering if you like riding your bike because it reminds you of flying.”
His brows twitched closer, his lips teasing a frown. You instantly regretted what you’d confessed, the last thing you wanted was to upset him.
“I’m not upset,” he said, easily reading your facial expression. “Just a bit caught off guard.”
“Why?”
“Because you only just remembered our past and you’ve already figured me out.”
You thought back to the puzzle pieces that had been put in place after you’d woken from your memories, how easy it was to understand the Sylus before you now and how his actions reflected the Sylus you’d known then.
You smiled. “I feel like it’s less impressive when you’ve had an advantage over me this whole time,” you protested jokingly. “You figured me out pretty quick, too.”
Sylus chuckled. “I guess that makes us even then.” He reached behind him, grabbing the helmet he’d gotten for you (yes, it had cat ears), and hooked a finger under your chin, tilting it up. “You ready?”
“Yes,” you answered firmly.
He placed the helmet over your head, buckling the strap beneath your chin, and gave it a soft tap when he was finished. He then put on his own helmet before swinging his long leg over the seat, gesturing for you to join behind him.
Seated on the bike, arms wrapped securely around Sylus’s waist, he took off onto the streets of the N109. Your surroundings blurred as he weaved his way through the zone, heading toward the outskirts.
Closing your eyes, you imagined you were on his back while he flew you through the sky. It was freeing, affording you a newfound appreciation for rides with Sylus. Perhaps now they could be reminiscent of the past for the both of you, not just him.
It didn’t take long before the N109 Zone faded into the background, Sylus now riding down a long stretch of road with open fields on either side. There were no flowers though, so you wondered where, exactly, he was taking you.
Your destination became clear however, when a shock of red greeted you on either side of the road.
Sylus slowed the bike to a halt, kicking down the stand and cutting the engine. As he took off his helmet, you remained still, looking out at the field of red flowers that was just like the one in your shared dream. How was this possible? Was it merely a coincidence that these fields existed in this lifetime too?
Your helmet being unbuckled and lifted off your head broke you from your stupor and you found Sylus standing in front of you, waiting patiently with a hand outstretched. You took it, letting him support you as you climbed off the bike. He laced your fingers together once both your feet were on solid ground, and led you forward, into the flowers.
It was surreal, walking through the field beside Sylus. It felt like two worlds colliding, past and present melding together. It made your heart flutter with excitement knowing that this time would be different. This time you’d be damned if you didn’t get your happy ending.
Sylus stopped abruptly, giving you no warning before plopping onto the ground, dragging you down with him. You squealed as you fell into his lap, giggling as he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in the crook of your neck.
The first time Sylus found this field of flowers, no different from the one outside of Tarus City, he’d nearly been brought to his knees. He wasn’t one to believe in signs but this one felt undeniable, too much of a coincidence to not mean something. It was before you’d officially met, but it gave him an unfounded confidence that once you did, he’d have his beloved again. He’d promised himself then that he wouldn’t come back here unless it was with you, and now, he’d fulfilled that promise.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” you said, threading your fingers through Sylus’s soft hair.
He hummed, the noise vibrating against your skin. He placed a single, chaste kiss on your pulse point before pulling away and meeting your gaze. “Ask your questions,” he said gently.
You pursed your lips as you decided where to start. “Are you still a dragon?”
Sylus huffed, amused. “Well,” he began, sucking in a breath, “yes and no.”
You raised a brow in silent command for him to continue.
“I’m more human than I am dragon now, but not fully either,” he said.
That certainly explained the strange comments he would make every so often.
“Do you still have wings?”
He nodded.
“Horns?”
Another nod.
“Tail?”
“Yes, kitten, all three.”
You looked at his head, thinking if you stared hard enough, his horns would appear. “But…where are they?”
“Hidden away by my Evol,” Sylus answered. “It takes a lot of energy to do so.”
“Is that why the sunlight bothers you? Is it easier to keep them hidden during the night?”
Sylus smirked. “Clever kitten,” he said, all the confirmation you needed. “What else?”
“Can I see them?” you blurted.
His brows rose in surprise. “Not right now.” When you pouted, he added, “Some other time, when we’re in private.”
“Fine,” you relented. You glanced down at where his arms encircled your waist and slid a hand over one of his. “The linkage is my doing.”
“That’s not a question,” Sylus teased.
“I know,” you said. “Just wanted to get it out in the open, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“When did you realize it was my curse?” you asked instead.
“The first time,” he said simply.
You snorted. “Of course you did.” You lifted your head to meet his striking red eyes. “Is there anything you’re bad at?”
Sylus barked a laugh, causing your heart rate to increase. “I’m sure there’s a few, but I haven’t figured out any of them yet.”
“Ugh, your arrogance is immeasurable sometimes.”
But you still love me, was what Sylus wanted to say, but settled on, “What other questions do you have for me?”
A thought occurred to you suddenly and you sat up straighter in his lap, brows drawing together. “Did you make me shoot you to see if I actually wanted you dead?”
The bastard grinned. “Maybe.”
You slapped his shoulder. “Sylus!”
He was laughing, but damn it did you love to hear him laugh. “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”
You shook your head. “You’re insane, that’s what you are.”
“An important trait needed for the leader of Onychinus, something you haven’t shied away from.”
“Guess I’m a bit insane as well,” you muttered.
“Guess so,” Sylus agreed, smiling.
You softened, unable to stay annoyed with him when he looked at you with such tenderness, something he reserved only for you.
You reached up and lightly traced beneath his right eye. “You kept your name.”
“If you couldn’t pronounce my true name, I’m pretty sure no one else would be able to either,” he teased.
You chuckled. “You’re right, Sylus is much easier to pronounce.”
“And it was given to me by my beloved, how could I not keep it?” he murmured.
His beloved. You were his beloved, then and now.
And he was still your dragon, even if the dragon part was currently hidden.
You leaned away from him, something he nearly growled at, but stopped himself when he watched you pick a nearby flower. With a soft smile, you tucked it behind his ear, then slid your hand down to his chest, the same spot you’d once placed a flower in his scales. The same spot he’d hidden the brooch that allowed you free passage through his territory.
“Flowers suit you better than the N109 Zone,” you murmured.
A heartbreakingly tender smile lifted the corners of Sylus’s lips. “That’s the first time someone said those words to me.”
You felt like crying.
“Only you and this flower”—his eyes flicked toward his ear—“can touch me here.”
Sylus picked a flower of his own and placed it in your hair, then cupped your face, running his thumb along your cheek.
Feeling such an undeniable pull toward him despite being already so physically close, you shifted in Sylus’s lap to straddle his hips, wrapping your arms around his neck. He sucked in a sharp breath at the new position, the hand on your face sliding to brace the back of your head.
Running your fingers through the hair at his nape, your eyes darted between his and his lips.
“Do you have any more questions?” he asked breathlessly.
“Just one,” you said.
“What is it?”
“Can the N109 Zone have flowers bloom everywhere, as far as the eye can see?”
“Only for one person.”
Sylus’s lips crashed into yours.
He was firm but gentle, angling your head right where he wanted you as his tongue swept over your bottom lip. You opened for him, whimpering when his tongue slid along yours.
Sylus’s kiss was claiming, taking what was rightfully his. He’d been waiting for this moment since he first laid eyes on you in this lifetime. Waiting for his beloved to come back to him.
Tightening his grip on you, Sylus flipped you onto your back, his body pressing against yours, all without breaking the kiss.
You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging on his strands. Between kisses you managed, “I want…to touch…your horns.”
Sylus groaned and you felt it rumble through his chest. He finally broke away from your lips only to trail open-mouthed kisses across your jaw and down your neck. “Not here,” he said roughly.
You would’ve been more upset had his lips not felt like heaven on your skin.
“Sylus,” you said, pulling his hair to get his attention.
He lifted his head, his cheeks flushed and ears red. “Do you want me to stop?”
You shook your head. “No,” you said, cupping his warm cheek. He nuzzled against your palm. “I love you, Sylus.”
Air whooshed from his lungs and his lips were on yours again. Your souls may have been bound but Sylus was still in disbelief by your confession, even though you’d all but said it last night. Fate—who had always been cruel to him—had finally turned in his favor. There was no curse to separate you this time, only one to keep you by his side. This was a second chance for the both of you, to love each other freely, to explore what life could truly be like together, and now that he had you, Sylus would scorch the earth before he ever let you go again.
He drew back, waiting for you to look him in the eyes before saying, “I love you too, Y/N.”
You huffed an incredulous laugh, tears welling as you stared at the man you loved. Your dragon, with you once again.
Sylus’s loving gaze took on a dangerous glint. “How about we head back to the base and I’ll show you my horns, sweetie?”
With a wide grin, you nodded. “Don’t need to ask me twice.”
Sylus chuckled, placing one last kiss against your lips before hefting you off the ground.
Then hand-in-hand, dragon and sorceress, having been given a second chance at love, walked through a field of flowers where once life ended but now a new one could begin.
735 notes · View notes
scottiexmariee · 8 months ago
Note
Ok so I've been loving all if the stuff you've been putting out so far, it's literally so good!!! My request is how the lads would react to you falling down the stairs and I'm talking like a long stream of stairs (totally not bc I fell down the stairs today while watching sylus edits hehehe)
First of all, omg, I am so sorry but I giggled. I hope you're okay!
Here you go, anon. I hope this is what you had in mind! Do me a favor and ban yourself from watching Sylus edits near stairs!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
How the boys would react to you falling down the stairs
Characters: Xavier x Reader | Zayne x Reader | Rafayel x Reader | Sylus x Reader Warnings: Stairs are your biggest op.
(little bit of falling, little bit of fluff. Lots of love for anon)
Masterlist
Word Count: 1.9k
Tumblr media
☆ Man would be mortified.
☆ He turned his back for two seconds, next thing he knows you're takin a tumble
☆ Would most likely ban you from being near stairs by yourself again
☆ “You can take down wanderers, but lose a fight against stairs?” 
☆ Would let you lean on him for support the rest of the night (he knows it hurt)
Tumblr media
The elevator to your shared apartment building had broken down. By the time the two of you had arrived home to find that out, it was 11pm, and far too late for maintenance to come out to fix it. You were stuck taking the stairs until maintenance arrived tomorrow morning.
Normally, this wouldn't be an issue. However, your day had been excruciatingly long, and the stairs were more of an obstacle and a hinderance than they should have been. Your body was sore, your legs felt like jelly, and you really hated stairs in general.
Xavier looked down at you, stifling a laugh at the exasperated expression on your face. "I could always just carry you," He offered, extending his hand.
Whether it was your pride or your stubbornness, you couldn't accept. "I'm fine," You insisted, although it sounded like you were reassuring yourself more than Xavier. "You're tired too. Go ahead, I'm right behind you," You would very quickly find out that your last statement aged like milk left out in the sun.
Xavier shot you one last skeptical glance before he turned and began walking up the stairs. You followed suit, doing a decent job until you stepped wrong and lost your balance. Your arms flailed, successfully grabbing on to nothing. The only audible indication that you were about to fall was the startled gasp that left your mouth, which caught Xavier's attention with just enough time left to helplessly watch you fall.
You stumbled backward, colliding with every single one of the 13 steps on your way down. Every single stair caused a painful shock and an even bigger dent to your ego.
Xavier was kneeling by your side in an instant.
"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice laced with concern. He helped you sit up, carefully eyeing you for any visible injuries. You were very sore, but luckily not seriously injured. At most, you'd likely be bruised in the morning.
You let out a huff of air, stifling a pained grunt in the process. "Well, that was embarrassing,"
Xavier stared at you, wide-eyed and looking like he was 3 seconds away from calling an ambulance.
"Xav. I'm alright," You insisted, twisting to lift yourself up.
Xavier intervened, quickly scooping you up before you could get to your feet.
"No," He said, shaking his head. "You're banned from stairs,"
With that, he began walking back up the stairs you'd just tumbled down. While you were nearly dying from the embarrassment, Xavier actually didn't mind carrying you. In fact, he'd rather carry you up and down every flight of stairs you encountered for the rest of your life if it meant he wouldn't witness another fall like that again.
Once you were safely at the top, he gently set you down outside of your apartment, making sure to keep hold of you in case you were unsteady on your feet.
"I can stand," You assured him. You were still heavily embarrassed, but ultimately thankful that he was so sweet.
He kept an arm on you until your door was unlocked.
"Is it too soon to say you should have accepted my offer the first time?"
You shot him a glare, although it lacked any real heat.
"I think I should stick around for the night, just in case you happen to encounter anymore stairs,"
Tumblr media
❅ Professional Zayne mode engaged immediately
❅ Depending on how bad the fall was, you're getting a full body exam before you're even allowed off the floor
❅ and that's not it, either
❅ You think you might bruise? Cold Compress. 15 Minutes. Now.
❅ Man will be stressed for the rest of his life any time you're in the same vicinity as a single stair
Tumblr media
Zayne had lost track of the amount of times he'd warned you to be slower coming down the stairs. Every single time you came down them, two at a time and at a speed that was less than acceptable, he'd get heart palpitations, convinced that this was the time you were going to fall.
It was coming, and he knew it. He warned you. You, however, tore through the house like a woman on a mission. You had a habit of learning the hard way, and you're simply too prideful to take his warnings seriously.
Until about 30 seconds ago.
You don't even remember what you were going to tell him. You'd been upstairs, he'd been downstairs. You raced down the stairs, coming in hot, and somehow miscalculated a step about halfway down.
That fall that Zayne had warned you about numerous times was finally a reality, and damn it was painful.
Zayne, from the kitchen, heard what sounded suspiciously like a body bouncing off the stairs and immediately stopped what he was doing to come check on you.
He rounded the corner, and there you were in all your glory: dazed, disoriented, and sore with a bloody lip serving as the cherry on top.
"Don't move," He said gently, kneeling at your side. With well trained eyes, he began looking you over. "Where does it hurt?"
"Everywhere," You groaned. It was true. 30 seconds ago you were having the time of your life, and now you felt like you'd been hit by a semi truck.
The next 10 minutes consisted of Zayne thoroughly checking every limb, asking you to answer various questions ("what day is it? What year is it? Time? Count backwards from 10. What comes after W?") and forcibly holding an icepack to your lip.
He ended up carrying you to the couch, gently laying you down so he could continue what he was doing while simultaneously babysitting you.
He did not hit you with an "I told you so,"
Not yet, anyway.
However, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't looking for a house that didn't have stairs.
Tumblr media
❀ He'd hear it from the other room and think a tree fell on his studio or something
❀ "Is it storming? I swear I heard thunder,"
❀ He'd make sure you were okay, but he's definitely teasing you about it later
❀ "I'm looking for a new bodyguard. Mine can't even handle a staircase,"
❀ definitely makes a moment post later on
❀ ^ "thought it was storming earlier. turns out it was just (Y/N) getting in a fight with stairs and losing. 10/10 ambience though,"
❀ on a separate occasion, I can see you both falling at the same time and blaming each other for it
Tumblr media
While Rafayel was occupied with his current project, boredom had gotten the best of you. You began exploring the studio, surprised to find a set of stairs that you hadn't noticed before. Upon further inspection, they lead to an attic.
Curiosity killed the cat, so they say. You couldn't help yourself.
Was Rafayel an attic man? What sorts of trinkets did he stash up there? The questions were burning too hot to go unanswered.
Unfortunately, it was mostly old paint supplies and boxes of random decorations that had been retired. You were left a little unsatisfied, but you had gotten an answer.
As you began to retreat, you realized the stairs felt a lot steeper than they did on the way up.
It didn't take long for you to lose your footing. The sounds that filled the air were a symphony of thuds and curses.
After laying on the ground for a few minutes, trying to recover, you opened your eyes to see Rafayel standing above you.
"You good?" He asked, kneeling down. "I kinda thought you died,"
"I'm not good, but I'm not dead."
He gently checked you over and then extended a hand to help you up.
"I think you should stay away from stairs," He drawled, leading you toward the couch. "and I also think you should sit here and recover from that,"
You plopped on the couch, too tired to protest.
Rafayel studied you for a moment longer, wanting to make sure you were truly alright before he began the teasing. It was his way of lightening the mood. "Are you sure you're alright?"
You reassured him that yes, you were alright. He sat next to you, casually tossing an arm around your shoulders.
"Good, because we need to talk about your Bodyguard skills. You need training or something. You just lost a fight to some stairs,"
Tumblr media
⟡ He was never worried about you around stairs before
⟡ but he's absolutely having remodeling done within the next 24 hours now
⟡ you are getting absolutely BABIED by this man the second he comes to your aid
⟡ You're not even lifting a fork, sweetie
⟡ You're getting tossed over his shoulder and carried like a sack of potatoes if stairs can't be avoided in the future
⟡ You're not going to get hurt again if he can help it
Tumblr media
At times, Sylus thought it was cute when you shut your brain off around him. He knew that it meant you felt safe, and it filled him with warmth whenever he stopped to think about it.
He'd place a tactical hand over the corner of the table when you bent down to pick something up, just in case you bumped your head again, you'd hit his hand instead of the corner.
He'd gently guide you when you weren't paying attention to where you were walking, too engrossed in your conversation to look for obstacles.
You really only did it when you two were at the base. Sylus didn't mind, though. In fact, it was almost endearing, the way you were comfortable enough to turn off your spatial awareness.
He couldn't always be around to steer you away from obstacles, though.
And you, unfortunately, had a habit of walking around while looking at your phone instead of where your feet were going.
You'd done it again today. But this time, it had caused a problem.
You were walking down the stairs to get a drink, completely fixated on a video you were watching, not a single worry in the world about the steps. Sylus had chided you for it before, but it had never been an issue....until now.
You stepped too far forward and immediately ate shit the rest of the way down the stairs. Your phone clattered to the floor, ending up several feet away. Mephisto witnessed the entire thing and had the nerve to squawk at you.
To add insult to injury, Sylus just so happened to be rounding the corner just in time to see your disheveled figure crumpled on the floor at the bottom of the stairs.
He was careful not to jostle you when he knelt down.
"Can you move?"
You wiggled your fingers, your toes. Flexed your wrist, rotated your arms. Despite the horrendous pain in your side, you could still move. You answered his question with a nod.
He picked you up as gently as he could, holding you princess style with both arms, being extra careful.
"Were you on your phone?" He asked, already eyeing the evidence on the floor. The screen was shattered, but the sound of the video you'd been watching was still coming through the speakers. He'd warned you about walking distracted before, but was usually there to be a hero. Not this time.
"Maybe,"
He refused to get more than three feet away from you for the next several hours, constantly offering to get you various things you may need. Water? He's on it. A snack? You bet. Heating pad? Consider it done.
If you had known that accidentally falling down the stairs would cause Sylus to get all soft and cradle you like you were made of glass for the next few hours, you'd have fallen on purpose a lot sooner.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
893 notes · View notes
emo-batboy · 2 years ago
Text
Battinson and the JL ft. His Eventual Identity Reveal
(If you’re just here for the cutesy bits, skip to Attempt #2. Otherwise, STRAP IN CUZ IT’S A LOT)
Bruce Wayne of Matt Reeves’ The Batman is not the founder type.
He wouldn’t voluntarily join a book club, much less join a league of super powered vigilantes whom he does not know personally.
So in this universe, you probably wouldn’t call him one of the three Founding members.
But he’s still integral to the formation of the Justice League
It starts out with a friendly visit :)
Bruce is patrolling on a random night in Gotham when he notices a weird thing in the sky. It’s floating just far enough behind him that a less vigilant person wouldn’t have noticed, but Bruce is always watching his own back, and he takes it as a threat.
He strays from his usual path and then heads to a warehouse roof before turning to face the threat.
It’s Superman. All smiley and dressed in primary colors. The strongest, most powerful being on Earth just floating over like he wasn’t stalking Batman a second ago. Bruce does not like that.
“What do you want with Gotham?” He asks. “I don’t,” Superman says. “I wanted to talk to The Batman.” So this is some kind of fight? An intervention? A warning? Then Superman frowns. “You…are The Batman, right?”
Bruce only nods as he considers his options, but he can’t really do that when Superman has super speed, super sight, super strength, super breath, super lots-of-things-that-Batman-probably-doesn’t-know-of.
Then Superman surprises him by landing on the roof and giving him this pitch about a superhero group.
Superman and a few other vigilantes have been bouncing around the idea of teaming up together so they can help one another protect their cities. And The Batman was a “perfect candidate.”
“I’m not joining your club.” “It’s not a club. It’s a league.” “What’s your mission statement, then?” “A what?” Bruce fights the urge to roll his eyes. He still doesn’t trust this guy. “Take your league idea back to the drawing board then we can talk.” He does not intend on talking.
But two months later, Superman is back. This time, he brings another super powered vigilante named Wonder Woman.
She smiles, politely approaches him, and says “Superman tells me you want to learn more about our league.” That is not what he said, but he doesn’t bite.
Bruce can’t decide which they remind him of more: college recruiters or cult leaders. But because Wonder Woman genuinely seems to care about seeing this project through, and the roster she has of current like-minded vigilantes is impressive, he lets her talk.
And to give her credit, she definitely thought out the logistics more. It almost makes up for the time they’re wasting.
Okay, fine. They’re still way behind on concept, and it’s pitiful. He actually feels bad.
They obviously care! They just have no idea how to run a business like he does. Is it a bit cynical to think of this league of Justice as a business? Yes, but that’s the only way he can even conceive this happening and working.
Bruce asks about their organization’s leadership structure, and that’s when Wonder Woman falters a bit. “We want to work with each other, not for.” Bruce bites his tongue on that subject.
He asks about their scope of work. “We want to help as many people as we can, but that can be ironed out later.” Bruce bites his tongue on that subject.
He asks “Who’s funding this?” She answers, “We have a few members willing to pitch in, but the majority will have to come from generous citizens.” And that’s when he just stops asking questions. Because what?
If he could cry the grease paint off, he would.
They can’t just think every super-powered vigilante is going to sing Kumbaya and braid each other’s hair. There needs to be checks and balances within the organization to avoid tyranny and corruption. They need a reliable source of donations (that doesn’t immediately out Bruce.) They need a proper chain of command. They need to map out their area of responsibility. They need to design a VERY strict vetting process. It’s not sunshine and rainbows. It’s hard work!
So he says he’ll think about it again and complains to Alfred about the weird super stalkers.
But for SOME reason, Alfred doesn’t see the problem
Alfred encourages him to join so he can “make some friends.” But how can he trust these people if they can’t even make a half-decent pitch? It’s like a bad episode of Shark Tank.
And “make friends?” They’re all masked
But after a week of gentle nudging (read: very firm lectures), Bruce agrees. ONLY to keep tabs on the rest of the vigilante world and possible threats to Gotham
(And without his help, they’ll probably butt-dial Lex Luthor the nuclear codes or something)
And he is damn well going to figure out who these people really are before he helps them make a Super Organization.
Alfred figures out about half of their secret identities purely as a brain exercise while Bruce is out fighting crime and collecting head injuries like Pokémon cards. They figure out the rest together.
They also develop contingency plans for every single member. Just in case.
And after months of Batman being visited by random vigilantes, whom he has several choice words for about personal space—“This is my city. Go away.”—he accepts. On several conditions.
Not all of them are appreciated.
Attempt #1: “Making Friends”
After several scheduling conflicts, a lot of prep work, and a really good hype session in front of the mirror, Bruce heads on over to the first official meeting.
Batman arrives with a long list of things they need to do before going public. The first thing on the list?
Write A Mission Statement
What the fuck are they actually trying to do? Bruce thinks this is a great starting point.
And you’d think (you’d think) this Justice League thing would be easier to tolerate than the drawn-out exec meetings he has to sit through with boring, old businessmen who keep delaying things so they can hash out every little detail.
To Bruce’s absolute horror, he BECOMES the boring businessman who’s delaying things so they can hash out every little detail. He misses the boring, old businessmen. At least they knew what they were doing.
Every turn, he is argued with.
“Why do we need a mission statement?” “‘Power Structure’ feels authoritarian. Can’t we just share leadership duties?” “Do we really need this much paperwork?”
Bruce has the audacity to say, “We need to develop some sort of protocol that helps us analyze any possible threat.” But no. “Why can’t I just jump in? I have eyes.” “Jumping in without studying an opponent’s behavior could cause more harm than good,” he insists. “So what? I’m going to watch an alien monster go on a rampage through my city instead of fighting it?” “Yes. You don’t know what it’s capable of.”
Bruce already regrets joining.
All he hears is the others gossiping. “Is this guy really telling us how to be heroes?” “He’s got a major stick up his ass.” “I knew we shouldn’t have let him join.” And if that doesn’t dissuade him, he doesn’t know what will.
“How was the first meeting?” Alfred asks. Bruce scowls. “I’m not making friends.”
Nonetheless, Bruce sticks it out for weeks until they have some semblance of an organization. And, to his shock and amazement, it…kind of works.
The Justice League makes its debut, and Wayne Enterprises generously donates some money “out of spite” after Lex Luthor publicly denounces the league. (Honestly, Bruce would too if he hadn’t personally duct-taped it together himself.)
But the league starts small, just like he told them, they respond to natural disasters and public safety threats first (as per the outreach initiative) and focus on protecting communities in need (as per the mission statement.)
Yes, they still think Batman has a stick up his ass because he’s a stickler for writing incident reports, but no one else reads them so he has the right to be pissed.
He’s almost kind of sort of content with how it’s going. Even his reputation as a vigilante is improving.
That’s when another glaring difference between him and the other members appears.
Despite looking the same age as the rest of the team, Bruce is actually much younger?? Even excluding the aliens, gods, etc.
Most of his teammates are in their late 30’s, early 40’s. Meanwhile, Bruce is at the ripe age of 29 and a half.
He is the youngest by ten years.
Everyone kind of just assumes he’s the same age, though, so they make references to 80’s kids stuff that he only vaguely understands through Alfred and his business partners. He just sits there in silence like a child who snuck over to the adult table and is waiting to get caught.
So on top of the rift he (accidentally) created when they started the organization, it’s even harder to connect through similar interests. Other than punching people together.
And Bruce Wayne has a bad case of imposter syndrome when it comes to their superpowers.
He’s always in the corner brooding, and everyone’s like ummm antisocial much?
But 50% of the time, it’s because he’s thinking “I’ll never amount to the incredible heroic feats everyone else has accomplished. How can I possibly make a difference to the world if I’m already struggling to save Gotham?” Like a little emo freak 🖤
(Meanwhile, you couldn’t pay those mf’s to step foot in Gotham. This Bat guy’s crazy and he’s human apparently?! No way. Nuh uh.)
The OTHER 50% of his “brooding” is Bruce standing to the side with a mixture of concern and judgment because his teammates’ competency in certain areas is…alarmingly low sometimes.
One week, he finds himself thinking, “How do these grown-ass adults not know their way around a digital map? They’re 40, not geriatric.”
Then like a week later, it’s “These fucking war fossils don’t even know Morse code. I gotta do everything around here.”
One of the final straws is when he says, “Did they just break another fucking Keurig? Who does that, Alfred? It’s the fifth one.”
Suffice it to say, he’s not very personable. But is it his fault? Well yeah, a little bit. Like……..65% his fault.
(The remaining 35% is their moaning and groaning whenever Batman calls a meeting.)
Bruce’s irritation is totally justified.
God, he just wants to go home.
Why is he doing this again?
Attempt #2: Actually Making Friends
The first JL member to break through his cold, black exterior is Wonder Woman. She needs help with search and rescue after a sinkhole opens up near an elementary school, but no one’s available until Batman responds to her call.
He’s on the scene in less than an hour and makes quick work in securing the area. Thankfully, she catches him once it’s over. (He always runs off without saying goodbye.)
“Thanks for helping. Everyone else was just so busy. I’m glad you could fly over.” Batman mumbles something that she can’t quite hear. “What was that?” she asks. “I was busy too,” he repeats. She gives him a weird look, and he freezes up for a second as he realizes that probably wasn’t appropriate to say. “I mean…this was more important. There were kids in danger so it didn’t…matter if I was busy.”
Wonder Woman considers how awkward The Batman looks for a moment then smiles. So he really is human. “Well, thank you. The help was very much appreciated.”
Since then, several small acts of kindness and solidarity earn Batman some respect from the rest of the team.
One day, Flash complains about how boring their meetings are so Batman brings a massive bin of fidget toys. After placing them in front of the Flash, he mumbles, “These are for ADHD. They’re useful.” Flash almost cries with relief. He is very touched.
Another day, Green Arrow is severely injured in battle. Without a word, Batman leaves the fight, takes him to a safe location, stops the bleeding, and does it all while repeatedly making sure he’s awake and asking permission to remove certain pieces of clothing.
In another fight, Plastic Man’s mask is thrown off, and Batman sees his face. In a second, Batman tosses a smoke bomb, picks up the mask, and hands it back before anyone else can look. It costs them time and the element of surprise, and Plastic Man knows it, but Batman did it anyway.
A JL member’s stomach grumbles during one too many meetings. Suddenly, their little break room becomes a fully stocked kitchen with shelf-stable meal items and all the basic necessities. There’s a nut-free section, a gluten-free section, everything. The only reason they know it’s him is because anyone else would have admitted to it.
(He renovated the whole fucking thing. In one night. By himself.)
And they all see how gentle he is with children. Countless times, The Batman is spotted prioritizing young civilians at any given moment.
He has lollipops in his belt. And Bluey bandaids too.
It’s the little things that make them feel closer to him :)
And okay maybe his goddamn Mission Statement lecture wasn’t so bad
So they stop moaning and groaning
Okay, now it’s bonding time WOOHOO!!
Attempt #3: Kinda? Friends??
One day, Superman says he isn’t too fond of billionaires (because of Lex, obviously) and goes on a rant about capitalism. Bruce doesn’t dare contribute because 1) he’s the richest man in the world and 2) every other billionaire he’s met is insufferable.
(Including Oliver Queen who Bruce refuses to look at while Green Arrow “defends his city’s billionaire.”)
(And while we’re on the topic of Green Arrow, Bruce cannot forget the disappointing almost-fling two summers ago. He still holds a grudge.)
Green Arrow: “You’re all fashion nightmares. Who wears a cape in the 21st century?” Batman: “At least my facial hair isn’t longer than my dick.” GA: “What was that, Batman?” B: “What?”
Also Bruce is very attracted to Superman.
(He likes older men.)
(Yes, I am referring to Henry Cavill’s Superman.)
(Sue me.)
(But don’t get your hopes up. He does literally nothing about it.)
(Coward.)
One of the JL members complains about how sore they are after a few missions so Bruce cashes in his Monthly Attempt to Socialize and says, “Try yoga. It helps me.” “…Batman, you do yoga?” “Yes. My son got me into it….It’s good for you.” “You have a son?!” He is never socializing again.
They also learn that Batman has the smallest frame on the team. (Like yeah, he’s tall, but he’s also lanky, and everyone else is either an alien or a human dorito.)
One night, they need to sneak through the vents of some building so Bruce offers to do it. Someone says, “It’s a tight squeeze. Are you sure you can fit?” Then he just takes his cape and pauldrons and shoulder pads off and is suddenly like a foot skinnier
“Wait…is this why you’re so good at hiding in the shadows?” Bruce just glares at the Flash for a second before climbing into the vents.
(The answer is yes.)
A betting pool is started over whether or not Batman is part Bat.
In fact, several betting pools begin because no one knows anything about the guy??
Aquaman and Plastic Man go to great lengths to figure out what his hair color is.
They lose their shit once Bruce tells them he’s vegetarian.
Green Lantern: “Every time he opens his mouth, we learn something new. Next, he’s going to tell me he speaks Swahili!” Batman: “I do.” GL: “Oh, come on!”
Superman: “We need someone on the inside for this international operation to work, but that’ll take at least three months undercover.” Batman: “Don’t worry. I have connections.” S: “…In Shanghai?” B: “Yes.”
The Flash adds SHANGHAI?? to his conspiracy board
Bruce needs to stop trying to socialize. It’s better for everyone’s cardiovascular health.
A year or two in, they’re all introduced to Captain Marvel. Bruce is the first and only person to learn his true identity (kid Billy Batson) because Bruce is the only one with a kid. That way, he understands the weird Gen-Alpha humor and references.
Millennia-old deities don’t use the term Flop Era.
And, of course, they play FMK at some point.
(I mean, come on. There are like TWO mature adults on this team, but Martian Manhunter doesn’t know what’s going on until it’s too late, and Wonder Woman is busy at her day job.)
During that particular round, the celebrities are Bruce Wayne, Lex Luthor, and Kylie Jenner. Bruce does, in fact, want to kill himself, but he chooses Fuck instead because of this exact conversation:
Green Lantern: Come on, Bats. It’s just a game! Choose already. Batman: No. I’m against killing. GL: Oh, go fuck yourself. This situation is completely hypothetical, and you know it. B: Fine! Fuck Bruce, Marry Kylie, Kill Lex. GL: See? That wasn’t so hard :) Bruce:
Tumblr media
He tried
Attempt #4: Ah shit, FRIEND?
The identity reveal comes about three years after he joins. He’s 32, has three kids, he’s been on hundreds of missions with them, the team’s over twice its original size, and there are domestic terrorists overtaking Manhattan.
Superman, Wonder Woman, The Flash, Green Lantern, Martian Manhunter, and The Batman try to extract as many civilians as possible, but now they’re being hunted. After hiding in a warehouse and considering their options, MM finally suggests that they pose as civilians, which immediately creates uproar.
Bruce, however, realizes this is the only way out.
But it’s not dramatic or badass like that one JL episode. No, instead, he thinks about it, swallows the regret, and just—
Takes off his cowl.
And the whole room falls dead fucking quiet.
Then, “Oh fuck.”
(That was Green Lantern.)
Bruce just shrugs and mumbles, “Martian is right. It’s the only way.” And really fucking hopes the grease paint hides his red face because he is not having a good time right now.
He would rather die, actually, but they need to get somewhere safe and Fast.
The others look him up and down then nod slowly. “Uh yeah.” “Okay, sure.” “This is fine.” “We’ll do that.”
The others begin slowly taking off their suits and changing into something more casual. Bruce takes his off, revealing the skin-tight compression suit underneath, and stuffs his armor in the roll-up duffel bag that’s kept in his belt.
He changes into his drifter outfit, wipes his face clean, and suddenly, The Batman’s just a normal guy. (A very pretty normal guy, mind you. His teammates have eyes.)
Tumblr media
“We can head to my place,” Bruce says. “It’s closer, and I know the train system pretty well.” And yes, he’s pretty soft-spoken outside of the suit, but now it feels even more obvious.
Meanwhile, the others are like—
Oh. My. God.
Oh my god, he’s fucking shy. Batman is acting shy in front of us. Dear fucking god. Batman is Bruce Wayne. And Bruce is shy so Batman is fucking shy?? Bruce is pretty too. Holy fuck. He is very pretty.
And he’s so young?? Oh my god, he’s a BABY wtf?! He’s like four inches shorter. Four inches tall! They’re all towering over him without his massive boots and armor, and he just hunches over with the big duffel bag like he wants to sink into the floor, and he’s so small.
Wonder Woman wants to put him in her pocket.
Sue her.
They end up taking the train back. Bruce has on the mask and cap that hides his face (poor Superman, he really likes his jawline) and they all follow Bruce as he gets off and on several trains at seemingly random stops. THEN when they’re finally in Gotham, they head into an abandoned-looking subway station that leads them into a…cave?? WTF
And in the middle of the cave is an elderly man with a cane and a three-piece suit just lounging on a recliner. (WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK—)
He looks up from his crossword puzzle and says, “Ah! You’ve finally made friends, I see?” Bruce rolls his eyes. “This is not a sleepover,” he gripes. “Shame. I was about to grab your footie pajamas for you.”
The man smiles at them. “A pleasure to meet Master Wayne’s work friends in person. Would you like some coffee? Tea? If you’re like him, this is going to be a long night.”
No one dares to question why this man recognizes them in their civvies
They also can’t tell if the footie pajamas line was a joke or not. After tonight, nothing is off the table.
(This is a minefield of information. Barry is having flashbacks to his conspiracy board. No one is going to fucking believe him.)
They all settle into one corner of the cave. Bruce leaves to change and comes back looking like this:
Tumblr media
(Goddamnit, Clark is having a meltdown. His hair looks so good wet.)
At one point while they’re plotting, Wonder Woman glances over his shoulder to see Bruce checking some sort of security camera. A boy, maybe nine or ten, is sleeping in bed. “Is that your son?” Bruce clearly doesn’t want to answer, but Alfred gives him a look, and Bruce sighs. “One of them. Yes.”
Later, they have to analyze some explosive samples in the cave, and Barry, forensic scientist extraordinaire, has some choice words about the non-sterile environment.
Barry: This doesn’t look safe. Bruce: My lab is perfectly clean and functional. *bat screeches* Don’t worry about that.
For the rest of the night, they use the evidence they have to track down the organization while the rest of the JL suits up and saves NYC.
After a few hours, they’re safe to return to NYC for damage control. But Alfred refuses to let Bruce go with them. “Your sons are worried. Drive them to school, then you’re coming home and sleeping.”
Bruce clearly wants to argue, but the mention of his kids stops him. He sighs and turns to the others who are already changed. “Let me know if you need anything. I can be there in ten minutes.”
They all nod, knowing full well they will not be doing that. The guy clearly needs rest.
(Also, he is a single father of three and still goes out every night to punch robbers and crime bosses? Is he doing okay?)
Then they head back to NYC with so many questions.
But a lot of it makes sense too, actually. Maybe they just weren’t thinking about the man behind the mask enough to see it.
They learned a lot about their friend that night.
And they have a lot of bets to cash in.
FIN
Okay :D that was a lot! If you enjoyed it, please let me know. This has been simmering in the back of my head for months <3 Have a great day and drink some water :)
Hey bestie @bruciemilf
6K notes · View notes