Hi, Hemlock speaking. Welcome to my blog. I reblog a lot of different stuff.
I'm a USAmerican Agender Aroace Agnostic Atheist. EX Evangelical Penecostal Christian. Fuck Trump. Fuck MAGA. Fuck AI.
Sometimes I write. Sometimes I draw.
Asks are open. You can try your luck if you want. I don't touch underage characters, Toilet Kink, Sweat Kink, or Foot Fetish stuff, so please refrain from those.
Speaking of, Masterlists
Note if you want to use a prompt or drabble and build off it. I'd be honored. Just tag me so I can see what you do.
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I like to imagine that like, ten years down the line from 'No time to live, no time to die' Danny and Jazz take off on a sibling bonding trip to go see a concert or something, then Danny gets talked to by one of those sidewalk interviewers while he's there.
Interviewer: So, what brings you here specifically?
Danny: Sibling trip! Me and my sister haven't had the chance to catch up in forever. But the kids are with my husbands this week, so we're taking the time to actually DO something together. She's off getting snacks at the moment.
Interviewer: Aw, so you're close?
Danny: Yeah, we're pretty close. Kind of a side effect of having to run away from home at fifteen and seventeen, because a family friend sexually assaulted me and got me pregnant, then our parents went off the deep end and tried to kill and dissect me. Jazz kinda took issue, so we moved to Gotham for a safer environment. Now she's considered the best child psychologist in the city, and has weekly lunch meet-ups with Harley Quinn and Pam Isley, so I think she made it work. Plus, now I'm a professional boxer and I'm married to Jason Todd-Wayne and Wesley Weston, so I think I made it work too. Though I think I'm technically still a missing person case in Illinois.
Interviewer: Wh- What
Danny: Aw hey, I see Jazz with the snacks! Did you have any other questions, Orr?
Interviewer: N- no, that's about it.
*Danny walks away to go find Jazz.*
Interviewer: Chat, what the fuck? Wha- Who the fuck was that guy?
*Video goes fucking viral.*
Amity Parkers, watching this a month later: FENTON IS ALIVE???
three person poly relationship made up of two people who are already dating trying to coax someone with horrific self worth issues into a loving relationship. stray cat style
they’re all laying together in bed and the couple are both thinking to themselves like good, he stayed the night to cuddle and talk when we offered, he should know that we genuinely care for him and want this to be more then a handful of one night stands. and the stray cat guy is like wow this sure is nice i think i’m falling in love with them. it’s really too bad that they don’t actually give a fuck and hate me and probably want to kill me with hammers for no reason
Danny: If I had a nickel for every time I thought a guy hated me, then it turned out he was just really, really gay for me, and didn't know how to tell me...
Danny: I would have two nickels.
Danny: Which isn't a lot, but for the love of fuck, why has it happened twice?
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The Unidentified on Main trio absolutely cannot shower together. Because Jason turns the temperture dial up as far as it will go, Danny wants it icy, and Wes thinks they're both fucking insane. He will take his moderately warm shower SEPERATELY, because he doesn't want hypothermia or second degree burns.
It's kinda funny when I read a fic that tries to do the 'Brains vs. Brawn' thing with Danny and Jason, but they think Danny is the brains and Jason is the brawn. Like- Are you literally just doing this because Jason is physically larger-?
Jason has plans A-Q written, charted, and optimized.
Danny's primary combat strategy is 'Punch it until it stops moving'.
And like- I'm not saying Danny is dumb. He's not. But still, this is fucking hilarious when I see it.
Wes: Y'know all those stories about how it means you'll always have a garunteed playmate, and someone who always understands you?
Jason: *nod*
Wes: Yeah those are bullshit. Forget those. It means you have someone perfectly bioengineered by existance to annoy you as much as fucking possible, and you can't even call them ugly because you'd be insulting yourself.
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Prism streams and posts everything. Absolutely everything. She posted angry rant about her bestie being stupid, drinking alone and immediately catching feelings for his hook-up. She posted about how she is about to meet that Robert guy and scare him off. Than a hundreds of posts about how Robert is her new bestie, and they are period buddies and how her hot bestie is lucky. Vegas wedding, of course. Thousands of posts of married years (because she practically lived with them sometimes and her subscribers really loved cute couple). She posted about divorce. And than she posted Flambae's drunk whining about his ex. Subscribers went whole 4chan detective mode to find Robert and spam him with messages about getting back with Flambae. There were billboards rented just for messages. There was a plane hired to write in the sky. Mail. Pizza orders with messages. Poor Robert couldn't do a single step without a message of how his husband wants him back
Need me a fanfic where Batman is such a cutely stupid dad and is just fussing over Jason in front of the Justice League (and Jason letting him because he's such a daddy's boy) like
Batman, with a deep and unemotional voice: " That's Jason, my sweet boy. And he's such a polite and darling gentleman. His favourite activity is to read and he's so calm and gentle and smart. So lovely and adorable, my precious little baby ☺💐"
The baby in question is 20 years old, fit and athletic, bigger and taller than Batman himself, looking like as if he could (and would) fight most of the JL and win, with several guns visibly attached to his suit, who is doing his very best to antagonize the JL at any given moment just for fun, BUT ☝ stops as soon as Batman is in the room, hugs and cuddles and is genuinely happy to talk with him, and generally acts like the most behaved and mannered son ever and "of course I'm a good boy Green Lantern. As if would ever misbehave. That would break Batman's heart and I couldn't possibly do that to him, I mean that's my dad I love him!"
And Batman's all like "Aww Jason I love you too son. I'm so proud of you my sweet boy ☺" and he just doesn't. know that Jason is that much of a little shit that he's antagonizing and gaslighting all of Batman's colleagues just because he wants to stay his dad's little baby.
And Batman's all in denial and never believes it whenever someone tries to tell him about what Jason's doing behind his back and he just cannot understand why the JL is always like "Bro, u braindead 💀????"
this but bruce absolutely knows what his son is doing and 100% supports it. he will baldly lie to the JL’s faces in defense of his son and will deny any evidence against him as forged.
what do you mean jason has blood splattered on his clothes. that’s paint. oh you ran a chemical analysis? nice try, i can tell those reports are forged.
my dear sweet boy bullies you? he’s just awkward stop making such a big deal of it he’s shy okay maybe you should stop being a sensitive loser about it. grown ass man claiming a little boy is mean to him 🙄
jason broke into your safe house, raided it, and spray painted “jason wuz here”? he’s not the only jason in the league why wld you assume it’s him. no, that’s not a red hood symbol next to it, and no i can’t name any other jason’s in the league. but they exist, obviously, because who else could’ve done this??
jason is holding a literal smoking gun in his hands? jay!! what did i tell you about picking up weapons from crime scenes!!! did you see where the perp ran off to???? are you okay??? step away from the unconscious body, you might get hurt!!
as much as i get the sentiment behind "make more bad art" there's gotta be a better way of communicating "you don't have to be technically proficient or hold yourself to a specific standard of practice" that doesn't sound as backhanded lol
I think i read a fic about this but like no one knew and kid reincarnated Bruce was obviously traumatised i think fostered by Lois and clark..?
forgot name of it
umm but would reincarnated baby B have memories or not? like 100 day curse
had the kids fallen out with him do they realise its him fall back. into old habits w how they treat him?
but its a kid with likely autism so its straight up child abuse/ neglect
idk idk pls can we have your thoughts
Bruce coming back as a spectre, interesting.
I'd imagine he's not alive, but a spirit, and oh! Imagine if, because it's a core component of Bruce's identity, his ability to become corporeal is directly tied to his desire to help people. He can only be physically present when it matters most.
The idea of clois fostering him is charming
this spiralled and is now a whole thing, but we ball:
But what if he, in his reincarnation, or whatever you'd call it, he was given one final blessing and allowed to return to when he last felt safe. Bruce, the ghost of his seven year old self, darting between the living world, and the afterlife, where Mama and Papa wait to clean up his cuts and praise him for still wanting to help people, their brave little boy.
He doesn't have his memories. But as he chases survivors across decimated battlegrounds, doing his best to make sure they survive this, he feels a distinct pull towards these people he sees fighting.
He's not sure why.
He's sat amidst the rubble, watching the 'heroes' regroup when one of them cautiously approaches him. She's beautiful, long black hair falling over a sooty forehead, but her smile, hesitant as it is, is radiant, and feels painful. Something deep in his soul drags towards her, but he doesn't understand the feeling, and allows his grasp on reality to slacken, falling back into the afterlife.
Mama cleans the dust off his arms with gentle hands, and explains he knew her, in his life. The one he doesn't remember. That they were really good friends, and that tug on his soul was probably a soul bond from their friendship.
Bruce admits he is scared of the feeling, and Mama kisses his head and promises that's okay.
The next battle, the woman stays away. She watches him from a distance, and he watches her back. Then a hand settles on his shoulder, and Bruce cries out at the same feeling yanking at his core. The man leaps back, horrified, apologies tripping from his lips, and Bruce quickly slips out of this plane of existence. He watches the man search for him, then slowly sink to his knees and begin to weep.
Papa tells him to give them a chance. That they love him a lot, and miss him.
Bruce doesn't want to be their friend. He just wants to help people.
But when he pulls a man out of the rubble, that same achingly familiar link thrums through him. This one has Papa's nose, like Bruce. He still doesn't like the feeling, that soulbond Mama described, but this one...he cannot bring himself to leave.
"Your son," comes a soft voice, and he turns.
The woman stands behind him, expression pained.
"Papa told me...I had a family. This is him?"
"One of them," the man confirms, walking up behind the woman. "Your youngest."
Bruce pokes his cheek. The man doesn't stir.
"He doesn't look happy."
"Grief does that to people."
"Me," he murmurs.
"Yes, Bruce."
It's the first time the man has used his name.
"You grieve me too."
The woman's shoulders briefly lift, then sink back down. "We grieve the man you were. You are not him, but you are very similar. It is an honour to meet you as you are now."
Bruce stares at her. Names swirl in his mind, half formed, barely-there whispers, fading voices, and he clings to any hope of remembering these people that always look so sad.
"Grief is not eternal," he says, quoting his mother.
The man reaches out, and gently grasps his shoulder, a slight exhale drifting out of his mouth when his palm makes contact. "No, B. But love is."
Bruce looks back down at the man slumped on the floor in front of him.
He lifts his head, and looks at the figures in the distance, calling names and aliases that brush the depths of Bruce's mind, the things he can't remember anymore.
His looks at his children off in the distance, and feels a sudden wetness in his eyes, feels fat, hot tears roll down his cheeks without permission.
"Take care of each other, Clark, Diana," he murmurs, standing.
Twin gasps sound at their names, but Bruce is already fading. "Take care of them too," he begs, and lets go of his tether.
He disappears from sight, and watches Dick crash to his knees next to Damian. "Come on, Robin, you gotta wake up. We can't lose you too, buddy."
Mama's warm touch presses an arm over his shoulders. "You're a good friend, sweetheart."
"And a good father," Papa adds, palm warm on Bruce's head.
He leans back into them, and together, they watch his once-family gather around each other.
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actually caring about the rights and safety of children is so stressful right now because a large amount of the time I'm sitting there internally screaming "THAT'S WORSE. THAT POLICY IS GOING TO ACTIVELY CAUSE HARM TO CHILDREN YOU ARE MAKING IT WORSE." and nobody cares because it's not actually about protecting children but the thing is children actually do need more protection very badly, just not like that. REALLY not like that. and the things that would actually protect children (education, greater personal autonomy, access to knowledge and resources that don't hinge on their parents being willing/able to provide them) would give adults less absolute power over them and that upsets too many people who see children as status symbols and tools and extensions of themselves.
Pottery sounds terrifying to me. Every post I see is like "Here's this awesome art I made!! Pray for me that it survives The Kiln™ :')" I don't think I could cope with making art that could quite easily blow up and I have no way of controlling that. You guys are true heroes.
