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internalsealpanic · 2 years

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Enough and Then Some

summary: When your girlfriend is well-known and well-liked around the superhero community, people will have opinions. a/n: This is unconcerned with canon as I usually am. I did my best. warnings: Jimmothy Gordon.

There is generally no reason to regret dating Barbara Gordon. She's Barbara Freaking Gordon for Christ's sake, yanno, perfect rolled up in gorgeous? Babs has been nothing but wonderful since you two started dating.

It's the people finding out part that's giving you a rough go at it.

You made the mistake of getting caught kissing your girlfriend by none other than Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson. The next time you see him you are going to shove a dishrag down his throat.

People generally have two reactions. One, they give you this concerned once over. The one where their face stretches because their eyebrows go one way and their mouth goes the other way. This look is generally followed by them stopping themselves from saying 'really?' and they think they're slick and you don't catch it but you do and you feel worse because they're patting themselves on the back because they think they're being nice.

You're not even that bad, right?

Sure, Babs is like 10 levels out of your league and ok, maybe they're right.

Why is she dating you again?

The second reaction is what's been keeping you up all week. See, the problem with dating one of the most interconnected personalities in the caped community and having fessed up to another person who is just as interconnected is that said community is known for taking action. And oh boy howdy, did they.

You nurse a mug of coffee, staring into the rich pool of brown. It looks soft enough to sink into but you can't because Commissioner Gordon is sitting across the table giving you that look. Not the stretchy one. The one where he is either going to whip out a threat or his pistol or both.

He's tapping his foot, crowding your little brownstone with a terrible rhythm. You're off the clock so you don't bother minding your expression. Whatever is on your face makes him switch to drumming his fingers on the table. You sigh inwardly. "Are you sure you don't want a cup of coffee?" you ask, keeping your voice light and pleasant; not quite slipping into your hostage negotiation voice, as Steph insists on calling it, or your I'm going lovingly smother you with a pillow the second you look away voice.

The Commissioner (because you haven't really been told you could call him Jim yet) scrubs a hand over his face, looking all of 60 and showing. "Yes, please." You nod, thankful to be able to put some distance between you.

"Sugar? Creamer?" You ask, letting the bubbling of water drown out the uncomfortable beat of his fingers.

"Neither," he says but he seems to debate the point.

"I could add honey. It's not too bad for your health," you offer. You know from Babs's loud phone conversations with her dad that he's been bullied into a healthier diet. You certainly have.

He grunts out a quiet thank you.

You set the mug down, the clink of porcelain against the wood disconcerting.

"So you and Barbara have started dating," he says and finally there it is. Your mouth ticks a little. You look around the apartment you two have been sharing for a month and have a vivid vision of red cloth. Jean-Paul Valley (aka Azrael) had specifically told you that you were not to move in with Babs until he was sure you were ok. You would have lovingly like to point out that both you and Babs are grown adults and it's none of his business but the flaming sword was very convincing. Still, that was an entirely different problem. "I suppose a little birdie told you."

"You could say that," he says, eyeing you suspiciously.

You rub the back of your neck. The words are still strange to say after all these months. "Yes, we've been dating... for a bit."

"So then," he sets the mug down, "you know this talk has been coming."

You look at him flatly. "Sir, I have already been warned at flaming sword point but if you must."

He seems a little thrown for a loop and you slightly regret snapping at him. He clears his throat. It just makes the silence more awkward. At first, you two try to scramble for things to say but apparently your previous statement had derailed the whole conversation. You have to wonder if the Commissioner had planned all of his lines. Probably. This idea makes you feel so much worse.

There goes any possibility of getting the Commissioner on your side.

It's possible that you're gonna be ok and that you'll laugh this off someday. You very much doubt it but it's the only reason you're able to fix that smile on your face.

The cold feeling in your stomach is hard to ignore.

"I should get going before Barbara finds out I came here," the Commissioner says hesitantly. "I'm sure you won't mind keeping it between us."

A genuine smile makes its way to your face. "I promised not to keep secrets from her but for you, I'll see what I can do. No promises," you laugh into your cup.

"Good enough," he grunts.

He gives you another once over before he shuts the door.

It's a look you can't read but that maybe because you're busy trying to find your breath. You close your eyes and think of the work you have to do to calm you down.

He seems a little thrown for a loop and you slightly regret snapping at him.

"I still don't understand how you can stand watching Dr. Phil when you already have to deal with Dr. Quinzel," you whine, sliding Babs into your lap, placing a kiss on her neck then her jaw before burying a groan as Dr.Phil insists on talking.

She shrugs, kissing your nose. "One more doesn't hurt."

"My insurance begs to differ."

"You're just awful at picking your insurance," Babs snorts and your feel the coil in your chest unwind. There's little else you can do but place a kiss on her chin and her cheek and her ear and wherever else you can reach before she shoves you away with the heel of her palm pressed against your cheek. You still end up kissing her hand anyway.

"My Ph.D. does not guarantee a working brain," you mumble into her hand.

"Is that not the point of your degree?"

You huff, cupping her hand against your cheek. "You really should come to one of the University dinners with me." It's amazing how light your tone manages to be given that you're exhausted from both work and whatever you want to call the last few weeks. You bristle with delight when she brushes her thumb against your cheek. You wrap your arm around her waist and lean into her touch like a plant chasing the sun.

"Something's wrong."

"The fact that this thing has 20 seasons?"

Babs pointedly looks down at the pizza that has at most been given a passing glance. "You only ever get this pizza when something’s wrong."

"Pineapple is not a death knell," you scoff.

Babs lifts your chin. "Oh? You’re saying I’m wrong?"

"There is a first time for everything, my dear," You chuckle, cupping her cheek and kissing the corner of her mouth.

It's her turn to scoff. "I don’t believe you, talk to me please, I want to know what’s wrong," she says, looking into your eyes, allowing you to be swallowed up by her sincerity. Her touch so soft buries you deeper in this intensity.

The hand on her waist squeezes reassuringly. "It's stupid, Babs. I promise I'll be fine." You lean into Babs's shoulder and slot your face into her neck. Taking a moment to pause and gather yourself, you muster the words and maybe a little bit of your trademark dramatics. "Babs..." Your hand drops to her knee and squeezes. "The problem is... I am very terribly, stupidly in love with you."

Her face twitches. It is such a classic invasion that it is, unfortunately, endearing. She threads her hand through your hair. "I love you too," she murmurs in to your cheeks and she feels you melt into that. "But I really need to know what's actually wrong."

So close.

You breathe her in deep, the scent of dusty old library books filling your lungs. "I'm—" How do I love you without doubting myself? "How do I get people to stop threatening to skewer me?"

Babs brows pull together. "That's never bothered you before."

"You're right," you laugh. It's concerningly limp even to your ears. "It's... it's not the death threats. It's—" Your frown, trying to think of the words and deciding to trace the lines on Babs's hand to draw them out. "I don't know how to convince people that I'm not out to break your heart or that I'm not some kid just chasing after your cape or I don't know. I just... I'm sorry. This is my problem."

Babs takes your hand slowly and places it against her cheek, leaning into it.

"Is that what this is all about?" She asks, kissing the heel of your palm.

"I'm not stupid," this made Babs smile and you would be offended but you're dumb and in love. You could hear Babs call you a moron on the same caliber as the current winner of the Darwin award and you would still be smitten. The kicker is she knows it. She won't admit it but she's the same. "You're like the best thing to happen to me. I don't even know why you picked me."

Babs tips your chin. "Look at me."

"Hard not to do but sure, yes, I am looking right at you. Specifically your cute nose."

Babs rolls her eyes.

Babs looks into your eyes, trying to organize her thoughts. There's a million of them. You can watch them flit through her eyes. "You are amazing. And you are the best thing to happen to me. You got that?"

Your stomach flips. You want to shy away but Babs doesn't let you. The intensity is soft like a the glow of a hearth. "I picked you for a million reasons. I can list them all if you’d like. We have the time." She looks out to the storm raging outside of the window, the soft sound of snow hammering against the panes of the window, wind whirling loudly. "I’m with you because you make me coffee when my mug is empty and I’ve lost track of time, forgetting to make myself one."

"Coffee addict," you scoff.

"You're worse," she slightly regrets the words when she feels you deflate a little.

"I love you because when I feel down, you just know, and you always make me feel safe, without fail."

"And I will never stop trying to do that." If you had tried to fight the gut wrenching sincerity in your voice, Babs can confidently say you failed miserably. You never failed to make her heart hurt.

Babs strokes your hair. "I love you because you are the type of person to give me a heart attack by trying to talk to Scare Crow about the corruption of academia during a hostage crisis."

"I wasn't sure if he was into sports."

You both laugh and smile.

"Your sense of humor is awful."

"Naturally."

"But I love it."

"Thanks Babs," is all you can say which you punctuate by kissing her lips.

"Love you," she says, kissing back. "What's up?"

You shake your head and bury your face in Bab's shoulder again but your ears are warm. Bab wraps her arms around your and holds you tightly, letting herself feel you. "What’s up?" She repeats.

"Two weeks worth of threats from the caped crowds looks at her," you hum because blurting it out would be rude. "Dick is no longer allowed to give me shit about being overprotective cus I have nothing on half the people that broke into our apartment," you huff looking up at her.

"Who's been breaking in?"

"Let’s see there was Huntress, Black Canary, Azrael, rest of the Birds of Prey, people from the justice league I don't even know. Oh and Cass. She is 90 pounds of pure terror."

She stares at you. You shrug.

"What did they do?" She's trying to keep her voice even.

"Normal shovel talk. breaking my legs, bringing down the wrath of god, all that jazz," you say, waving your hand, "your dad was nice enough to use the front door though. Your dad tried to give me the talk but it kind lost its punch after getting it from Dinah, yanno?"

Babs frowns frankly annoyed. "I am going to put their faces through a wall."

You laugh. "I get it though. They love you and I do too."

Babs plants a kiss on your forehead. "You pretended to be scared by my dad, didn't you?"

"Not really. I kind of blurted out the Azrael thing. I tried retroactively but it clearly didn’t work." This sheer stupidity earns you a kiss on the cheek.

"You’re a good person. Always wanting to make everyone happy."

You scoff but it's not sharp, just amused. "I'm glad you notice my campaign for sainthood."

"You're not gonna win that," she rolls her eyes.

You squish your cheek against her shoulder. "If I steal Azrael's sword, would I have a better chance?"

"Isn't stealing bad?"

"Borrow," you amend, "besides, it can't be that bad if you keep stealing my heart."

Babs tries to pinch your grin off. It does not work.

"You know how much you mean to me, right?" She says, kissing you. You hum against her lips happily. "You just like my lips."

Babs smiles against your lips. "Hmmm we better make sure they don't find out what you do with—" You smack your lips against hers swallowing up the rest of her sentence, your skin starts to burn thinking of her words. Babs thought you were immune to embarrassment but she was patient enough to find your weaknesses.

"Please shut up," you breathe, pressing your forehead to hers.

Babs snorts.

"You love my suffering."

"I love it like I love the rest of you," she says, smooshing your cheeks together. "You're more than enough for me."

"Enough," you don't know why your brain zeroes in on that word but it makes its home between your ribs, gluing the rest of you together.

#barbara gordon x reader #the entire caped community is very protective of each other #fluff #this is tangentially family related so I am allowed to post this

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trekkele · 6 months

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characters in comics arent usually right or wrong. they’re points of view, they’re having a conversation, and usually, the answer is it’s complicated

#this is about a lot of characters #but right now its about leslie thompkins lmai #shes right technically #but shes right either because she let a girl die on her table to prove a point #(and this is canon. its heavily implied that she could have done more) or she ripped a girl away from her family and support system #caused an entire community to mourn #to prove her point #but at the same time what she’s saying has merit #she’s just saying it to the wrong people imo #beating your fists against batmans cape wont stop other individuals from being vigilantes #if batman could stop them he would #this is also made clear #shes not wrong but she isnt right. is my problem with her

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msfcatlover · 1 year

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Thinking back to that one post about how every batkid needs to pick a persona they get to swear in. I would like to expand it.

Dick swears all the time, but he does it in other languages. He picks a language for each persona to swear in and sticks to it. He did still do his whole “Aw, fiddlesticks!” routine as Robin, mainly just to watch everyone’s faces when he did it. (But everyone remembers the time Robin’s leg was broken and he just screamed “FUCK!” so loud that the entire battlefield turned around in shock.)

Jason knew that thanks to classism, people would assume he swore even if he didn’t. So like, why bother restraining it any more than he absolutely had to? As Robin, he didn’t swear even when he really wanted to, though sometimes he slipped up when caught off-guard or when chatting with someone who knows him in both identities. (On one very memorable occasion, Robin got so mad he actually shoved his fist into his own mouth to muffle the screaming rant of obscenity he needed to express.)

(As the Red Hood, Jason doesn’t really give a fuck, but he still falls back into his old habit of cleaning up his language when in costume. It’s very funny to hear him say something like, “Well, golly! You’ve gotta be shitting me.”)

Tim Drake is a proper young man who doesn’t swear, even when he’s hurt (he has totally stolen that biting-my-fist move from Jason.) Robin swears like a fuckin’ sailor all day every day, to the point where not a single goddamn hero in the entire caped community that has ever worked even adjacent to him has not heard, “Ask me if I fucking give a shit,” muttered under Robin’s breath directly into the com line when someone tries to correct him on something. He will switch languages to insult you in the one you best understand, too. His friends have a running bet about how many of those languages Robin actually speaks, versus how many he just learned how to cuss people out in (when asked, Robin just smirks and says, “How fucking many do you [always a swear from a different language, usually one they haven’t heard before] think?”)

Damian mostly sticks with old-timey faux-Shakespearean insults, mainly because it’s very funny when adults can’t figure out what to punish him for when he sasses them. As Robin, Damian likes using animals in place of swears, and just telling people to go fuck themselves—it keeps them on their toes.

Steph does not fuckin’ care.

Duke canonically swears both in & out of costume, and I love that for him.

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allovesthings · 17 days

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In my opinion, the butt jokes are incredibly incredibly tired.

So here are several fun facts about Dick that you can use for comedic effects/running jokes instead:

His hatred of Capes. Listen we are talking about Dick wore a yellow cape for 9 to 10 years in universe Grayson. The moment he changed his costume, he straight refused to ever wear a cape again, the only time he had to wear one, it was as Batman and it was very very frustrating for him.

You know that when he watched the Incredibles with Lian and Roy or Damian and Edna Mode came on screen with her hatred of capes, this was his reaction:

Someone else finally understand him. She instantly became his favorite character.

His tendency to put unknown substances/evidence in his mouth and being able to identify it by taste and his knowledge of what Heroin taste like (yep still not over it).

It's both impressive (the fact that he can actually identify something by taste alone is impressive) and gross and even his closest friends don't understand why he is the way that he is, Do we think it's the Bat training or do we think it's just Dick (tm)... I feel like it has to be just Dick, right ? considering everything in Gotham is a toxin of some kind ? How many heart attack do we think he gave both Bruce and the Titans with that ?

Dick Grayson namer of superhero things: Listen, I just learned that Dick named the Arrowcave and now I just kinda love the idea of a running joke that every time a classic superhero in contact with Robin has a goofy name for something superhero related, it probably comes from the 9 year old superhero who thought it sounded cool.

The Titans are never letting that go and Dick doesn't want to talk about it (but he secretly still really like the names, they were cool when he was 9 and pretty practical when you think about it, thank you very much).

Everyone has a crush on him (tm): Honestly it is pretty funny that everyone and theirs entire family have a crush on Nightwing (and also pretty consistent canon since Raven in ntt). The reaction of the batfam is annoyed because that's gross, it's Dick, theirs brother/son, and the Titans are amused (Donna, Vic, Garth and maybe Wally) or maybe sorta part of the people who have had a crush on him (Kory obviously , Roy, Raven).

You do need to be careful with that, but I think if you do the opposite of what DC is usually doing, you'll be fine.

Also you can also includes the disastrous first date with supergirl in that. She also had a crush on him and they date was so horrible that he considered changing superhero identity because it was so embarrassing (truly one of the greatest plot-point on Superman/batman world finest honestly and this series is genuinely my favorite modern/current series)..

His petty side when he doesn't like someone: Listen, Dick has a petty side, ask Helena circa Outsiders (2003), Talia (always), Jason circa the late 2000s (Morrison era) and Azrael (also always). When he doesn't like people but has to work with them, he is going to be a little shit because they have to know he doesn't like them. it's important. and the comedic potential of Nightwing, one of the most competent, known and admired hero of the community being so petty is excellent. 10 out of 10, I need him to work with someone he hates again just for the fun of it.

The last one is just an headcanon and do not have basis in canon as far as I know:

Sometimes, as an adult, Nightwing says Holy shit in front of a classic superhero and that superhero does a double take because they are so used to him saying Holy goly batman (and that include Batman).

#dc #dc comics #the opposite of what dc is doing is this: don't make the people who do have said crush harass him or kiss him without his consent #dick grayson #nightwing #batman #roy harper #robin #the titans #dcu

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ew-selfish-art · 10 months

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Dp x Dc AU: It’s not the usual suspects trying to summon the undead this time, and it’s proving to be a massive headache for John Constantine. They seem...Competent.

When John sniffed out a new plot to summon a ghost, he kind of laughed it off. Ghosts were not more than shades of the people/creatures they used to be, without all the right resources and enough buy in from the greater spirits of the Infinite Realms, most entities that came thought might scare some kids at a slumber party but that was at most. Plus, kids were scary resilient these days thanks to the internet, so really, John’s not worried.

Then he hears about the gathering of artifacts and he has to care a little more. He learns that one Jasmine Fenton is involved and he’s... Surprised. She’s got a public record of dismissing her parent’s inventions and causing stirs at supernatural conventions (not to mention a great reputation as a research focused psychologist). Jasmine’s credit cards report a great deal of cash (refunded to her account by an unknown off-shore account) being taken out and her location is right next to the last place anyone could find a shard of the Crown.

Yeah, that Crown. The Infinite, ancient blessed and deity cursed one. John had meant to get around to investigating if the shard of obsidian (fire forged) was legit, so he begins to set his sights on Jasmine for a ‘chat’.

Then Sam Manson, a scary ass Heiress, pulls up in a limousine and all but kidnaps him and dumps him outside city limits. She tells him that he’s been cursed for the next 48 hours to stay out of their city- If he comes close, any plant will identify him in a heartbeat and come to life to kill him. (Fun fact: there are a goddamn lot of plants surrounding this stupid town, even the dandelions are forging knives to kill him.)

THEN worse, Red Robin gets on his ass about cybersecurity of all things. Turns out another player, identified by the moniker TooFineTooFurious has been tracking John’s phone and has been rummaging around official JLD documents- How was John supposed to know that keeping his passwords on the notes app could be hackable? Red Robin declares him incompetent and John can only sigh, crush his phone and move on.

That all leads him to the summoning portal in front of him in this weird ghost themed high school gymnasium. It’s far too competent. It gives him goosebumps even before he can read out that they’re summoning the King of the Infinite Realms himself. John clicks the panic alarm on his JL communicator before engaging with the Trio before him.

They’re not wearing any capes, no candles are lit, but this is the scariest cult he’s ever seen. Jasmine Fenton, ghost denier, Sam Manson, Heiress and Plant Witch (?), Some other dude with a beret and fucking DRONES (he considers this might be the man who hacked him). John pleads with them, they don’t know what they’re trying to do. Pariah Dark will kill them all, eat their entire planet for breakfast!! Everyone rolls their eyerolls at him, and he’s taken aback by their nonchalance.

Plant guards grab him and a drone has a laser sight on his forehead. He fights but is subdued- They’re almost done chanting when Superman, Green Lantern, Red Robin and Cyborg all appear. Despite their disruption- the chanting ends with the green illumination of the circle. Despair fills the air.

And then- Poof- a groaning young man appears.

“Dudes you have no idea how unhelpful the Infi-map is sometimes. I was lost for like weeks and CW was being such a bitch ab- What. Wait, who are all- Holy shit did you guys summon the Justice League?” The Ghost King in full Regalia stared back at them in questioning concern. The three summoners start bitching at the monarch and John... isn’t sure if this is going to be an interdimensional incident yet.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dc crossover #dp crossover #danny phantom #red robin #cult summoning but it's just your homies #jazz fenton #john constantine #justice league dark

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essaytime · 3 months

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A lot of productions (or production ideas) for Romeo and Juliet come up with elaborate aesthetics for both of the feuding families, and there is definitely a charm as well as a large degree of blessed creativity to this, but honestly, the more I think about the play, the more I feel the most resounding choice with me, given the play's meaning, would be to make the Montagues and the Capulets' costumes very, very similar. Almost identical - the same silhouettes, materials, everything. Have the only thing signalling which family it is be a ribbon or band tied around the arm, a particular embellishment at the collar of a dress or shirt, maybe some item of clothing that's easy to take off, like a vest or small cape, or a scarf. Maybe aside from the Lords and Ladies of both surnames, they could wear something that's entirely in their family's chosen colours/symbols, but the rest of the family and their supporters? Just these details. Because that's really one of the things that hit so hard in the text: there is literally no reason for the feud. There's no logically existing divide. We have two influential families of equal standing, who live by the same customs, whose children probably have the same education, who employ people with the same mindset and themselves presumably have the same mindset. They could very well live beside each other, they could very well switch places and be each other. These poor teenagers in Romeo and Juliet are forced to live in a world shaped by something that just doesn't exist. And they're mistreated, and they struggle, and they die - at more or less fourteen or fifteen! - for something that doesn't exist. Because at this point there is no reason to go on with this conflict, if there even was one in the first place, which I doubt. I think there is a lot of sense in the fact that we never learn why the Capulets despise the Montagues and vice versa. I wouldn't be surprised if during the time of the play there was just no one that could remember it. But still, this conflict, this absolutely empty, pointless, senseless conflict, wrecks the community of Verona, pitting citizens against each other and leading to innocent kids dying. And I think if I were directing the play, that's the thing I would emphasise: that they are really the same. Have Lord Montague make a similar scream, speak in a similar tone mourning his son as Lord Capulet did mourning his daughter. Have the servants at the beginning of the play use exactly the same gestures and mannerisms. Have the dear uninvited party-sneakers get along with Capulet youth at the ball and genuinely have fun together. And have the citizens at the end be all the same in their surprise and grief, virtually indistinguishable save for this ribbon or embellishment they can just rip off of their costume, becoming one whole crowd. All of these people could pass each other, say hello, gossip on the street with no problem - if it weren't for these details that somehow make them part of two different entities. For there is no border between the Capulets and the Montagues other than the artificial one they try to create themselves. And people die for it.

#the next best design option is of course one family wearing uggs and the other wearing crocs #romeo and juliet #shakespeare #my Romeo and Juliet rants

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zvaigzdelasas · 7 months

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Protesters demanding a cease-fire in the Israeli war in Gaza blocked a U.S. military supply ship leaving the Port of Oakland for hours Friday by locking themselves to the vessel. The protesters also blocked the entrance to Berth 20 where the container carrier Cape Orlando is moored. Protest groups say the ship is bound for Israel after being loaded with weapons and military equipment in Tacoma, Washington.

The protest was organized by the San Francisco-based Arab Resource Organizing Center. Police were at the scene of the protest which appeared to number about 200 people, many holding Palestinian flags and signs demanding an end to U.S. military aid to Israel[...]

Three Palestinian supporters were holding on to a rope ladder and refusing to let workers close a door to the military ship. A U.S. Coast Guard negotiator tried to convince them to get off the ship, but protestors refused..[...] Abushamala was one of many demonstrators that blocked a port entrance to the ship. She said she lost several relatives in the war. "One missile killed three generations. An uncle, their son, and their child," said Abushamala. "I'm enraged that our government is still sending aid, missiles to Israel."

Another Palestinian protestor, Noura Khouri, said she also lost a relative in a bombing last week. "It's literally impossible for any of us to sleep, to eat, to work, to carry on with our lives," said Khouri.

Some Jewish people also joined in the protest. "I'm here as a Jewish person, the granddaughter of Holocaust survivors. And I grew up hearing the stories of my grandmother surviving the Nazi's Holocaust, losing her entire family. And today, Israel is weaponizing my history, the history of my family that was killed, to kill Palestinian families in Gaza," said Alameda resident Anna Baltzer.

Just before 3 p.m., authorities removed the three protesters who held onto the rope ladder, and the ship made its way out of the port. Abushamala and other protestors were disappointed. They hope their action will have a lasting impact on lawmakers.

"No more U.S. military aid to Israel. It is within your power. Do not let the fear stop you," said Abushamala.[...]

According to a release from AROC, three protesters who climbed onto the vessel were detained by the U.S. Coast Guard -- the federal agency with jurisdiction on the water. As it is an ongoing investigation, Coast Guard Petty Officer Hunter Schnabel said Friday evening that he could not provide specifics but confirmed "multiple individuals are currently under investigation." The release from AROC called on "communities in cities around the country and across the world to be on alert for vessels carrying similar cargo."

3 Nov 23

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spdrvyn · 8 months

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i love my husband — miguel o'hara drabble

fluff. heavy inspo on this video.

sorry for the inactivity and the lazy ass title, exam week came around before i could even start on the next request and i did nothing but relax the entire break (which was only FOUR days) so i'll bring this out and see if i can clear my sched enough to actually do shit. enjoy!

the moonlit sky reflects beautifully onto the shining surface of your mug, filled to the brim of chamomile tea and flooding your nostrils with delight as your body melts into the couch.

work kept you on the edge of your seat for the entire week, it was non-stop meetings and non-stop emergency calls even outside of your working hours that had you so stressed. you were sure you'd picked enough hairs out to make a wig.

the weekend is truly a blessing, you want to stay as far away as humanly possible from your phone and shut yourself out from civilization before you come protector of debra's last minute files.

you missed the soft cotton of your pajamas, not like you haven't worn them in the past couple of days but to actually be able to appreciate what it means to wear them and the greeting of a good night's sleep had you sighing and moaning almost a little too much.

you worked hard, you definitely deserved this. you grab a spare pillow and tuck it under your head turning to the side and looking at the city that surrounded you, your patience and tenacity at the office has now been rewarded with the view you're able to appreciate.

however, the shadow that looms over the carpeted floors of your flat don't go away even after rubbing your eyes. you look up and a faint red glow in the symbol of a very familiar spider catches your eye immediately, you smile lazily through the glass.

miguel slides open the door with no hesitation, cape still drifting in the wind from what you can only assume to be his own previous working activities. you can sense the tension wafting off of him like waves especially as he stomps all the way over to where you are on the couch and looks down at you.

his mask isn't off, he's still fully geared, and all you can do is stare back into those lenses.

that is until he surrenders, body giving up, and his body flops right on top of yours. it doesn't really surprise you, there have been times where miguel has come home after a worse day of saving the multiverse and traps you in a hug before you can protest or move. though you've never really seen him do this before.

he adjusts his position, but still keeps his arms tightly wrapped around you as you move as well so that you're holding him back. his face is buried into the crook of your neck and the feeling of his nose tickling your skin tells you that he unmasked already.

not a single word leaves his mouth, you silently adore the way he's melted into you already, the way the muscles on his back rise only to slowly fall again.

you don't want to break the silence, neither of you do. right now, the only form of communication that matters is touch. your lips burning kisses into his curls, your nose now erasing whatever of your tea was left and making the way for miguel.

he shies away from your touch with a small groan, "i stink."

a giggle threatens to break out from the back of your throat, as many times as he would insist that you'd keep going anyway. "so when you do it, it's fine? i see how it is then."

miguel chuckles, he inches himself into you further. deeper. his breaths become less and less shallow, it's clear that he's taking his fair share of sniffs from you as well. "because you smell good."

"i ran a bath, that's why." one last peck to his head and you opt to just comb his hair instead, running your fingers through the strands and observing as they twist back to curl after brushing it some more.

both of you stay like that for a while, not saying anything, not doing anything, just being here. existing with each other. you always find moments like these beautiful, even when miguel is probably one work call away from shaking hands with the grim reaper.

in miguel, you've found yourself open to so many new experiences and risks you could've never imagined on your own. despite the many amount of times at the start of your relationship that he'd give you space and wouldn't be mad if you left, you kept still by his side anyway. you knew that he was worth it.

in you, miguel found that mundanity that he's never had his whole life. passing out on the sofa on his own never felt the same, most times he'd wake up still in his suit and would have to go to work right after anyway. yet with you, the stress ebbed away over time because he knew that you'd always be waiting for him.

whatever historians had with their relics, miguel had with you. not to keep them confined in a metal case, of course not, but he felt as if you were to be revered. kissed and touched with utmost respect and you'd bring the people their good fortunes and long lives. you certainly did for him and miguel might as well be immortal now.

his hands wander, fingertips delicately grazing over the skin tucked beneath your nightwear. he goes slowly, traveling up to your chest where he—

"miguel?"

his hands freeze, face going red. the guilt of possibly going too far is ready to break free from his heart and consume him until he can feel your body trembling with laughter.

"since you apparently stink so bad, shouldn't you shower first before getting so handsy?" miguel pouts at your comment, he already had the apologies locked and loaded for you.

"just a few more minutes, corazón."

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #x reader #fluff

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envysparkler · 4 months

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so this. this would be one of the nightwing longfics. the long, character-driven fic that I wish I had time to write but alas.

the crux of this fic is when Tim goes to ask Dick to return to save Batman from his grief, Dick agrees.

Nightwing coming back to Gotham. fighting, every day, to keep Bruce from self-destructing in a manor so full of grief that sometimes he sits in empty rooms and cries. Dick that can’t visit Jason’s grave, it’s too painful, but sometimes he sleeps on the couch in the library and pretends like his little brother is sitting on the other couch and reading. and Nightwing also needs to deal with this precocious twelve-year-old who might not be Robin but thinks that it is perfectly reasonable to stalk them around Gotham.

it’s hard. it’s so, so hard. Dick losing pieces of himself, bit by bit. he sees hallucinations of Jason and eventually, the hallucinations are the only things he talks to truthfully. he has to keep Bruce sane while Bruce keeps lashing out at him. Alfred’s not getting younger. Barbara’s furious and upset and grieving what happened to her. Tim has no parental supervision, what the fuck is going on with this kid, Dick needs to watch out for him too.

it’s slow, but the pressure just keeps piling on.

meanwhile, the people he’s helping start to get better. Bruce notices their baby stalker, figures out Tim’s situation, and puts in immediate paperwork to get temporary guardianship. (Dick still hasn’t been adopted. it’s fine. he doesn’t care. he doesn’t.) Barbara recovers and becomes Oracle, a saving grace to the wider caped community. (she’s so busy. Dick just wants a friend to talk to. please.) Tim is introduced to the Titans and makes fast friends with them. (the Titans were Dick’s first but they’re gone, all gone, why does everyone keep leaving him.)

and then there’s a mention of a new crime lord on the scene, Red Hood, who’s looking to shake things up.

things build and build and build, Hood taunting them and Bruce’s suspicions and Tim’s stalking, until it reaches a breaking point.

a warehouse. Batman and Red Hood and Tim and Dick. everyone is shouting at each other, yelling at each other, accusations flying, emotional barbs thrown. Dick trying to keep the peace and failing.

maybe someone snaps something that wounds. maybe Dick just collapses under his own exhaustion. either way, he gives up. he walks away. he can’t do this anymore.

no one notices him leave.

Dick leaves his suit in the Cave and writes a short note explaining that he’s quitting.

he’s done.

this world--Gotham and Batman and all the heroes and villains--has taken too much from him. he’s barely twenty-one and yet he’s lived lifetimes. he’s shouldered the weight of the entire world on his shoulders for so long he cannot remember what it feels like to fly without a net.

he returns to the first place he called home. there’s a Flying Grayson at Haley’s Circus again.

#fic ideas #dick grayson #the sequel would be dick asserting that he Doesn't Do That Anymore #while batman and the justice league and the titans and deathstroke and ra's al ghul #all try to convince him to come back #feat. the shenanigans of an accidentally-unintentionally-crime-fighting circus

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brucewaynehater101 · 11 hours

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TW: mentions death, blood

Here is the angst some of you requested. Let me know if I need to add triggers

He isn't going to make it to eighteen. This is a fact. Tim knows, with certainty, that he isn't going to survive that long.

Being a vigilante means that Tim's life expectancy is drastically reduced. He went from possibly dying of old age as the CEO of Drake Industries to becoming a casualty of The Mission. Tim knows the odds. Dick surviving to adulthood is the outlier, not the standard.

So, Tim knows he is going to die within the next few years. Either his blood is going to stain his yellow cape, or Timothy Drake will meet his tragic end in Gotham's streets. This is indisputable.

He had assumed, though, that he would last at least a year as Robin.

He thought Bruce would've been safe.

Tim had spent so long cultivating his plans and carefully navigating his interactions with Bruce. He pushed and pulled Dick, Barbara, Alfred, and some JL members into Bruce's social support. He helped mend their issues, subtly insisted Bruce upgrades his communication skills, and paved the way for a stronger bond.

He denied invitations to spend the night at Wayne Manor, he feigned being full at requests for dinner, and had ducked away from hair ruffles and shoulder pats. He maintained a childlike gaze, a helpful countenance, and a polite business mask.

In the few months Tim has been Robin, he has worked tirelessly to ensure Bruce would have support when Tim inevitably died. He maintained their mutual professional distance to minimize the hurt his death would cause the Waynes. He had designed everything to his best abilities. Tim is going to die, but he would help Bruce before then.

Bruce wasn't supposed to die with him.

Batman and Robin were trapped in the sewers after a cave-in. Apparently, Killer Croc, wrestling, and unsteady foundations were a recipe for a severely concussed Bat and a definitely not panicking Bird.

It could be hours before the two were found deep beneath Gotham's surface. Hours of someone scouring their last known whereabouts for clues before traversing the maze the city uses for their sewage. It could be hours before anyone even noticed their disappearance. Between Bruce's distress signal being crushed in the fight, Tim's being lost in the scuffle, and them being miles underground, this significantly hindered their ability to call for aid.

It might take days before Batman and Robin are unearthed.

From the way the rubble occasionally groaned and trembled, they didn't have that.

Bruce is physically present, his head is cushioned on Tim's lap, but the man's eyes are foggy. He keeps drifting into unconscious before Robin wakes him up again. Each time the man's eyes flutter shut, Tim fears that would be the last time.

It's fine. Tim's okay. Overall, the kid only has bruises on his skin and a few shallow cuts. He might be panicking, but he's physically okay.

Bruce, on the other hand, has a head wound that's sluggishly bleeding into his eyes and dripping down his face. His ribs are cracked from when the man tried to protect Robin from the tunnel collapsing.

Tim can hardly keep his panic at bay when the man starts to doze again. His hand lightly pats Bruce's cheek as he begs the man to open his eyes.

"Hey, B. You're gonna be alright." Tim's voice trembles slightly, but Bruce is too out of it to notice. "It's not going to be much longer. You have to hold on."

Bruce closes his eyes again.

"Bruce. Keep your eyes open."

At the command, the man struggles to pry his eyelids apart. Glassy light blue eyes focus in Tim's general direction. There's an emotion of the man's face that the teen has never seen before.

"We could..." Bruce's voice strains with the effort to speak. Still, he continues to rasp out, "Tomorrow. We could go to the library."

Although it is idiotic to hope, a part of Tim becomes elated at those words. The entire time Tim's been Robin, Bruce has kept him at a distance. They were coworkers, and Tim was necessary, not wanted. The teen could handle curt responses, long silences, and hasty dismissals. At least the man was frank with his expectations and personal boundaries. He never gave false promises or a fake welcome. Bruce was honest with Tim.

If they made it out of there, the man would keep his promise. The two of them could spend time together as Bruce and Tim, not Batman and Robin.

A soft smile appears as Tim regards his mentor. "I'd like that, B."

Bruce's face becomes fond, and his hazy eyes peer up at Tim. "I am glad you're here with me, Jay."

Tim isn't Bruce's son. He isn't the boy whose ghost drapes itself over the shoulders of his grieving father. He isn't a brawler when he fights, and he prefers sci-fi over literary masterpieces.

Tim has two parents. They hardly answer the phone and are gone for months on end, but they exist. They love Tim, in their own distant way.

Tim knows his name is Timothy Jackson Drake and not Jason Peter Todd.

Yet, in the washed-out illumination of an emergency flashlight, the kid faintly beams at Bruce.

"I'll always be here, Dad."

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #bruce wayne #dc au #tim drake angst #dead jason todd #they make it out of the cave but bruce doesn't remember their conversation due to his concussion #he has the faint impression that jason visited him during the cave in to offer him comfort #(the man is wrong. jason was too busy training with assassins)#this was inspired by that one scene in shameless where frank calls another kid “fiona” (his daughter's name)#the kid allows it and even calls him “daddy” cause she wants to feel parental love in some of her last moments #idk anything else about the show but that was heartbreaking

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the-main-idiot · 2 months

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my chnt swap AU will now be called

camp this and that

idea originally provided by @fall3nash2339

all info about characters+ art links under cut😋😋!!

(NEWWER DESIGNS WILL COME SOON, ALL OF THESE ARE FROM A SLIGHTLY OUTDATED STYLE)

all the characters have the same physical appearance (except for sydney), personalities and roles are changed

the nurses~

head nurse: Elijah Volkov, he makes all the announcements, and is mentally decaying. Boy oh boy, is he quite the man. Silly little bpd man, collected mental illness like Pokémon. But he's caring, and will do just about anything in his power to help the campers out when needed. He has a knack for elephants, likes sharing fun facts, not only about elephants but anything and everything. No filter😋 if he's thinking it, he'll say it, obviously nothing bad will come of that. Trust issues, yummy.

assistant nurse: Adam Uptin, always carrying snacks with him, he can get you to share how your parents wronged you then shove a bag of skittles in your hand and walk away. Adam isn't a fan of leaving the nurses cabin, let alone his side office, something about being a vampire and ""ahhhh the suns"",,etc etc. Although, you can lore him outside with some sunscreen, an umbrella, and an apple.

camp counselors (all camps stay the same)

Cabin Dung Beetle: Juniper Sloan. long neck, dirty blonde. British man, he's scared of the water (blah blah blah "i'm experiencing the past, present, and future all at once and i can't breathe." yadda yadda yadda) besides the meltdowns and break downs, he's pretty silly

Cabin Grasshopper : Marisol Yuchengco, 👁️dresses in gothic attire, but she's one of the most understating counselors you'll ever meet. Salem de La Marnierre, 👁️scene kid vibes, lowkey really chill though. The two are dating<3 (basically just the same as chnt, just,,, ya'know,, swapped.)

Cabin Magpie Moth: Rowan Chow, the goofiest mother fucker in the entire camp. He can actually produce sound effects, he doesnt choose them or when they happen, that's up to the universe, they just come from his general area. This man runs off of actual cartoon logic, dont question it.<3

Cabin Silkworm: Yvonne Marley, femcel. That is truly all i have to say about her. She pull's misinformation straight from the internet and spreads it like mold on moist bread. Joshua MacHeath, tictok eboy, he can make a killer flower necklace though. Joshua will sit with the kids who can't/won't participate in certain camp activities and teach them how to make bracelets out of, well, anything and everything!

Cabin Tarantula Hawk: Lucille Bertuccelli,👁️ she's an older counselor, a sweetheart though. Not only does she keep cabin tarantula hawk up am running, but she also is in charge of the arts and crafts cabin! Gracie Liu (👁️lowkey, i forgot gracie liu existed, so all of her color are just inverted. no matter how you picture her in ur brain, just invert the colors)

Cabin Ladybug : Soren Baltimore, 👁️a bit of a quiet lad, it wears a cape given to it by fennel. soren wears pants that are cover completely in pockets, those pockets are practically infinite, anything you can imagine, soren has it in its pockets. Fennel Marlborough, 👁️our favorite camp taxidermist (don't tell anyone) they have the art of life preservation down to a tea, now if they can only get em to start moving again. soren and fennel are tightly nit, they made up two languages, one between only them and the other for the entire cabin.

Cabin Widow-spider: Matthew Napoleon, 👁️he is the void, don't be scared of him just based on looks though. Matthew will teach you about things you thought you knew (you didn't). Because matthew cant actually talk, due to all that void, he communicates in a fun mixture of sign language, charades, and various static esc noises. Matthew is also involved, if not running, most water based activities (and sometimes juno+mila helps out around the cabin)

the cafeteria: Mila Alcorn 👁️and Juno Matsouka, 👁️i say "and" instead of giving the two separate descriptions because they are inseparable, trust me, i've tried. these two fish folk work together in the kitchen to provide food for all the campers at camp this and that. Practically gourmet chefs, these two are quite creative. Even though there's two of them, you'll never have to worry about chaos in the kitchen, mila and juno always compromise with each other, causing for some never before tasted flavors

special doodads

head of camp: Warren Earthman,👁️ he's a, stern, tired, grumpy, old man. also the walls in are covered with different brands and types of chainsaws. beside the threatening aspects of him, he also openly picks favorites and doesn't listen to anything that doesn't openly concern him or the government.

the rot: Sydney October Sargent, a weird rotting man who lives in the woods surrounding the camp. Don't get to close to him without a gas mask, please, the spores that emanate off of him are damn near hallucinogenic. Besides the skin falling off his bones, the various species of bugs living within him, and all the mushrooms/fungus living from his decomposing self, he's almost harmless. I mean, he's in shambles, a corpse who just won't let go, just try not to breathe near him.

Martime: Jedidiah A.M. Martime, a man who keep appearing in my dreams, I don't have dreams often, why is here, in color no less. this annoying, clock obsessed, not even real, man keeps trying to tell me that he's "here for you," and "it's ok, you can take a brake, you have enough time." what that man needs to do is pipe down and accept the fact he doesn't even exist in the physical plane.

#camp here and there #chnt #camp here and there swap au #chnt swap au #ch&t swap au #camp this and that #my doodles ::]#(only putting this tag because this is a project i'm very passionate about)#pinned post #YYIIPPPEEEEEEE

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cannebady · 1 month

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who are we to fight the alchemy

They've been taking it slow, which Blitz knows is necessary but also feels so fucking stupid considering they've had their tongues inside each other probably hundreds of times over the span of their agreement.

But after a truly spectacular round of competitive communication issues, they've settled on wanting to be something and in order for that to happen, apparently, both Stolas and Blitz have to spend some time with the heads on their shoulders calling the shots.

Based on Stolas's encyclopedic knowledge of all things shitty romance, "It's the proper way of doing things," and while Blitz couldn't give less of a single fuck about proper, he gives a nonzero amount of fucks (one might say a fuckton, in fact) about Stolas, so they've been courting or fucking dating or whatever and definitely not doing any kind of fucking.

It's gotta be at least partially karmic considering how often Blitz complained about fucking the bird. In all honesty he'd loved almost every second of that aside from the feeling like a plaything bullshit and it's fucking fantastic feeling seen and wanted and shit, but also so fucking hard (seriously, very. Fucking. Hard.) to be so close and unable to touch, and lick, and, well. Ugh.

Otherwise, though, it's been kind of nice. They have dinner a few times a week, and Stolas will bring him an iced coffee and lunch at IMP and then Blitz will take him to a shitty bar with M&M. It's fucking nice okay? He's never had nice before and now, suddenly, he gets long conversations about nothing and everything, and holding hands and fuck, okay, he's in love like a little bitch. It's just that Blitz just also kind of wants to fuck, ya know?

He feels a little like a dirtbag because Stolas is holding it together so fucking well. Based on his initial impression (and hands on experience) of Stolas as His Royal Unhinged Horniness, Blitz kind of figured he would've caved a while ago. He won't admit he'd been kind of counting on it; but it's been two months and to his internal horror and shame, it's Blitz who feels fucking feral. They sleep in the same bed, bodies entwined and while it's definitely the best sleep Blitz has ever gotten, it's keying him up and up and up with no release.

Just this morning he'd burned almost an entire loaf of bread trying to make toast because all he could think about was taking his stupid hot boyfriend back to his ridiculous bed to fuck him through his mattress. So there he stood, mortified, erect, and toastless while Stolas hummed and fed his giant toothy plants looking edible and sexy and Oh Satan it was becoming a fucking problem.

The other problem is that Blitz can't solve this the way he wants to. Or, rather, he doesn't want to solve it like that.

He could grab Stolas by the chain holding his starry cape on and stick is tongue down the bird's throat to kick things off, and he probably will do that when his patience runs out, but he's also started to fantasize a bit about a version of their dynamic that casts him with less of an emphasis on Dom and more as the qualifier of Soft.

Fuck.

He wants to do some sappy shit that involves caressing and no toys and maybe also sweet nothings whispered into Stolas's ear until his feathers puff out and his face is a mess of honey blush and desperation. Fizz would call it making love and he's right but also ew. Ugh.

Thinking about that definitely didn't make him less erect, so with a "Mornin' pretty bird," and a squeeze to a feathered thigh (fuck his bird has good thighs) he portals home to shower (because he can do that himself now which is fucking cool), give himself a hand, and then 86 a few human fuckers so he can get back home and remedy his dick problem.

By the time he gets home he's riding high on successful hits, Moxxie's fairly excellent espresso (not that he'll ever tell Moxxie that, he'd be insufferable), and the fire still buzzing in his blood from having someone to fucking waiting for him to come home (and not to kill him, for once).

He forgoes the front door and his shiny newly minted key to, instead, scale the wall to Stolas's bedroom because he wants to put the bird in mind of a sexy, sexy rendezvous and, once over the balustrade, is quickly hit with a wild turning of the tables.

Stolas is laid in the bed, not even his robe on his body for modesty sake, and is desperately trying to rub himself off. The air is humid and smells like sex and home and stuff Blitz was sure he'd never have and even if he hadn't been hard enough to cut glass for weeks, this visage would've done it alone.

Stolas's head is turned away, muffling himself into a pillow and Blitz can hear moans and aborted pleas stifled by cloth until he hears a loud groan that sounds an awful lot like his name.

Oh. Ooohh, fuck Blitz feels crazy. The last vestige of his self control was held by Stolas's own and if his pretty bird is as desperate as he is then who is Blitz to deny him?

He's gifted in stealth for his job and from years of precision movements honed in the circus, so he slowly disrobes to his boxers, only making his presence known when he's right next to the bed.

And fuck the vision is even better up close. Stolas's feathers are a fucking mess, like he's been writhing and edging himself for ages, just waiting for Blitz's hands and tongue and his fucking touch. Like he wants as much as Blitz does.

He clears his throat and four sanguine eyes snap to his, wide and shocked, pupils visible but the heat in them is fucking palpable. He climbs on the bed and leans over Stolas, letting his body touch as much of him as possible, fucking finally.

"Whatcha up to Princess?" he asks, pitching his voice low and rough the way he knows Stolas likes. The moan he gets in reply is like music to his fucking ears and a spark in his veins and there's a blazing inferno before he knows it.

He hums and bites at the feathered neck presented to him before grabbing both of Stolas's wrists and pinning them above the prince's head before speaking directly into his ear, "You lookin' to get split open pretty bird?"

Stolas's whole body shivers and he arches up so beautifully into Blitz that it'd bring tears to his eyes if his entire brain hadn't migrated to his dick and set up camp.

"Please," Stolas whimpers plaintively, legs wrapping around Blitz's hips perfectly, and how could he deny his bird anything?

"You get whatever you want tonight, baby, want you so fucking bad," he murmurs and kisses a flushed, feather cheek before applying himself, rather liberally, to pleasing his love.

#helluva boss fic #Helluva boss #Blitz #blitzo #Stolas #Stolitz #My fic #To be continued #Smut to come

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nanowrimo · 8 months

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How to Set Realistic NaNoWriMo Goals

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. Dabble, a 2023 NaNoWriMo sponsor, is a tool specifically designed for fiction novelists. Today, Dabbler Robert Smith shares a few tips to help you set daily writing goals that will work for you:

November looms, and with it the thrilling, harrowing, and sometimes carb-loaded journey of National Novel Writing Month. As we tie our writer's capes and ready ourselves for a month of intense creation, there's a small matter we need to address: our writing goals.

The Weight of 50,000 Words

Setting goals for NaNoWriMo is like setting a pace for a marathon. You wouldn't expect to sprint a marathon. The same goes for writing. If you try to sprint through, chances are you'll burn out faster than a candle in a windstorm.

However, only doing the minimum can leave you in a precarious position. Because if something comes up—and something always comes up—you’re suddenly behind on your goal, and that can really hurt morale.

So here are some goal setting tips to crush NaNoWriMo this year:

1. Start off strong, so you can end strong.

There is a simple fact about motivation. It starts strong and wanes with time.

Now to be honest, you won’t be able to write a book with motivation alone. It requires a lot of discipline, and you’ll have to write even when you don’t feel like it.

But a great way to get the most out of that early motivation is to channel it into higher early output.

We all know that 50,000 words split over 30 days is 1667 words a day. But authors who win NaNoWriMo often don’t start there. They shoot for 2,500-3,000 words a day in the first week. That way they build up a buffer for the later weeks where motivation isn’t as high.

Plus, it gives them great forward momentum on their project. So consider setting higher goals early and taking advantage of your early NaNo fervor.

2. Account for daily life.

Even if you've cleared your calendar for November, life has a knack for throwing curveballs.

Kids get sick. Work projects pop up. You know what I mean. If your word count goal is teetering on the edge of feasibility, any small disturbance can throw it off.

To combat this, make plans and backup plans. Schedule your writing time around family gatherings. Plan what happens if you miss a day. Set yourself up for success before those situations arise.

3. Use the buddy system.

Find a writing buddy to be accountable to. It could be a friend participating in NaNoWriMo, or even someone you connect with in the NaNo community.

Check in with each other daily. Celebrate your wins, commiserate over the tricky bits, and hold each other accountable.

Sometimes, knowing someone else is in the trenches with you can be incredibly motivating.

4. Have weekly check-ins.

Instead of focusing solely on daily targets, also have a weekly goal. This gives you a broader view and allows for some flexibility. If you have a slower day, you can make up for it later in the week without feeling like you've thrown the entire month off course.

5. Actually track your goals.

Obviously, you need to track your goals, but there are multiple ways to do it.

Dabble integrates with NaNoWriMo, so you don’t have to manually submit your word count. And if you fall behind a bit, Dabble will automatically adjust your daily goal accordingly to keep you on track.

But even if you’re just marking off your goals on a napkin at your desk, tracking your progress will help you stay the course to victory.

Now go forth, share your stories, and remember: it's not all about the word count; it's about the words that count.

All NaNoWriMo participants can use the discount code NANOWRI2023 for 20% off 1 year of Dabble! Offer expires January 31, 2024.

Robert Smith is a Dabbling Writer, and a Writing Dabbler. He likes playing board games with his wife, and deconstructing plots from movies in his spare time.

Top Photo by Isaac Smith on Unsplash.

#nanowrimo #writing #writing goals #writing advice #by nano sponsor #dabble #robert smith

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the-garbanzo-annex-jr · 5 months

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by Ben Cohen

South African Jews reacted with outrage on Friday after the country’s governing body for the sport of cricket stripped the Jewish captain of the U-19 national team of his role, citing the “risk of conflict or even violence” as the reason.

Cricket South Africa (CSA) announced that David Teeger, who is Jewish, would no longer captain the side just one week before the opening of the U-19 Cricket World Cup, when teams from 16 nations will compete in South Africa for the sport’s top prize.

In a statement released on Friday, CSA said that its security team had advised “that protests related to the war in Gaza can be anticipated at the venues for the tournament.”

It added that such protests would likely focus on Teeger — an observant Jew and resident of Johannesburg who made his professional cricket debut in 2023, scoring an impressive 51 runs for the South Africa Emerging Players side against North Cape. Teeger was only appointed to the captaincy of the U-19 team last month.

The targeting of Teeger could result “in conflict or even violence between rival groups of protestors,” CSA said. Invoking its “duty to safeguard the interests and safety of all those involved in the World Cup,” it said that Teeger had been “relieved of the captaincy … in the best interests of the players, the U-19 team, and David himself.” Teeger would “remain an important and active member of the team and we wish him and the team every success in the tournament,” CSA concluded.

CSA’s decision — against the background of rising antisemitism in South Africa, widespread support for Hamas in the wake of its Oct. 7 pogrom in Israel, and the charge of “genocide” brought by South Africa against Israel at the International Court of Justice (ICJ) — provoked fury in South Africa’s Jewish community.

Prof. Karen Milner, chair of the South African Jewish Board of Deputies (SAJBD), told The Algemeiner that CSA’s decision was “an outrageous act of antisemitism.”

“There is no basis for this decision, other than the fact that Teeger is Jewish,” Milner said. “It is shameful that CSA is embarking on a path that is dangerously reminiscent of Nazi Germany, when Jews were actively discriminated against, including among sporting clubs.” She stressed that the SAJBD “would do everything in its power to fight against this vicious prejudice.”

In a separate statement, the South African Zionist Federation (SAZF) said it would be calling on the International Cricket Council (ICC), the sport’s global governing body, “to investigate the CSA’s blatant act of discrimination.”

“The ANC [ruling African National Congress] government’s political hostility to Israel and its friendship with Hamas has created a climate in which it is entirely acceptable to target a sportsman because he is proudly Jewish,” the SAZF stated.

Among those expressing sympathy for Teeger on social media was three-time MLB All-Star Kevin Youkilis. “Heart goes out to this young Jewish man,” Youkilis posted on X/Twitter. “The ‘security risk’ excuse is bullshit.”

Former Boston Red Sox star Youkilis also referred to a speech that Teeger made just weeks after the Hamas pogrom, delivered after he received the “Rising Star” Award at a Jewish community ceremony. Teeger paid tribute to the Israeli military, saying, “Yes, I’ve been [given] this award, and yes, I’m now the Rising Star, but the true rising stars are the young soldiers in Israel.” He went on to dedicate the award to “the State of Israel and every single soldier fighting so that we can live and thrive in the diaspora.”

Teeger was being “punished for showing gratitude to the State of Israel,” Youkilis commented.

#david teeger #cricket south africa #cricket #kevin youkilis

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armouredgoblin · 1 month

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In regards to my previous post about Fem Custodes

I have a few points to make If I made you mad. That's not my problem. I still hold the opinion that they should not be a thing due to 30+ years of lore stating that they have always been men. I have heard a few arguments.

"Its always been political"

Well yes but actually no. Internally it has its own set of politics depending on which faction you look at. You can have politics that are separate to the real world. A good example of that outside of the Warhammer Universe is Helldivers.

Helldivers developers Arrowhead decided that they would not put anything that would represent the real world beyond the fact that humans exist. They rejected putting things such as rainbow capes and country based capes because it would take away from the actual internal lore and would cause division in the community.

The people that want these things tend forced into the media/lore to be the people who wont actually play it because they never wanted it in the first place.

"Its just a small change what's the harm?"

Its a step. One small step towards creating female space marines. If you can make custodes gene seeds work in woman; then you can make the space marine ones work in them too because who cares any more?.

Its an active attempt at slowly moving the Warhammer universe and turning it into the grey sludge that only appeals to the "Modern Audience" filled with the political messages that only goes one way.

I wanted to enjoy the lore as an experience separate to my own existence. I want to use this as an escape of this work but I am seeing it slowly being infiltrated and ruining the immersion.

"There isn't enough representation in Warhammer40k"

Who the fuck wants to be represented in the universe that is basically one constant war. Were the standard imperial guardsmen (of which contain both genders) eat what is called "corpse starch".

To be fair in the spotlight there is mostly the Space Marines which is an all male team of genetically altered super humans (the Custodes are further up that chain and are seen as even more powerful than the average Space Marine). Space Marines are barely recognisable as humans due to the effect of the gene seed.

However if people actually looked they would find there is plenty of representation within Warhammer40k. There are many factions outside of the Space Marines that have both female and males on the frontlines of this eternal war.

Factions: Eldar (Male and Female) Dark Eldar (Male and female) Imperial Guardsmen (As mentioned before) Sisters of Battle (All female) Sisters of Silence (All female) Not sure about them: Tau: I know they take from many species and I am not so sure what they have on the male and female ratio.

Errm: Tyranids: Alien bug species, fuck knows what they have. Chaos: They will defiantly have both, Slannesh will torture fuck you all.

Speaking of Slannesh While often referred as male, he actually can be both and neither.

"GW can do what they wish with their IP"

Yes. There is not much to argue with there. They could even pull a Disney Star Wars and state that everything from the next codex is now the true canon and everything before it no longer exists. In my opinion this would be stupid.

"Warhammer40k is for everyone"

Is it tho? You seem to be ready to throw out many people who don't immediately agree with you.

No media in any form is for everyone. People have a preference and can not like things.

Using myself as an example. I don't like sports games. Therefore I don't play them as it's not for me. I am not demanding sports games change the entire premise and add things to attract me to the game.

In short if you don't like it, don't force yourself into it. If you are interested. Experience it before making decisions. and especially before you decide that you can change the entire hobby to fit you.

Make your own thing.

Chances are there will be an audience however small or large it may be.

For those of you on the frontlines of the Gatekeeping Hold the line.

#politics #warhammer 40k #adeptus custodes #female custodes #media #invasive species #gatekeepers

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