#for dot it's about the same

[timelycurryshipping]

Curryshipping but none of them confess because they're all stupid au /hj

[outtamynoggin]

It's crazy what he gets away with (and who the ones letting him get away with it are)

Bruce: What Nightwing did might have been... unconventional, but it worked.

Tim: Exactly. I mean, sure, the plan might have involved hacking into Gotham’s power grid, a few strategic distractions, and, uh, some minor illegal surveillance-

Barbara: MINOR? DISTRUBANCES??

Tim: Okay, fine! The plan also had a teensy bit of hacking into the stock market, manipulating a few politicians, and borrowing a couple confidential documents, but nobody was harmed!

Bruce: ...In the strictest sense.

Tim: Yes! See, it's a win-win solution!

Barbara: *furious* You two are insane. You’re treating morally ambiguous like it’s a fun new hobby. He practically engineered an escape from a high-security prison by tricking the entire staff into thinking it was game night. In addition, he orchestrated a city-wide blackout just to steal classified documents, and you’re calling it genius?

Bruce: Very resourceful.

Tim: I mean... it’s not his fault they didn’t know how to play Dungeons & Dragons. Also, I want to see who else could pull off a high-profile heist while simultaneously launching a PR campaign for a new tech startup!

Bruce: *to Tim* Wayne Enterprise's tech gadgets cleared the shelves, we need to speed up production.

Tim: Already on it.

Barbara: You’re defending this? That’s not genius, that’s a psychotic breakdown wrapped in a cape! It's madness layered up in a three-piece suit!

Bruce and Tim: It’s Dick.

Barbara: I swear, if it was anyone else, you’d be throwing them in a cell for years.

Bruce and Tim: It’s Nightwing. He has plausible deniability.

Barbara: Plausible? I think he has a whole separate universe of deniability!

[henryscapon]

my roommate @latr1nal1a and i were discussing this scene in s1ep3 where petey is talking to mark in his basement

he mentions a department that no one has been to before. a department where you aren't allowed to LEAVE.

he is CLEARLY talking about the testing floor, where they are keeping gemma!!!! she isn't allowed to leave!!!!!!

so. this has been established. petey somehow stumbled across the testing floor. which then means that he knows about the exports hall............

a big question i've had the entire time while watching this show is how the FUCK does outie irving know about the exports hall. it's the kind of information that only an innie could know, and clearly innie irving had no clue about it until the OTC when he saw all the paintings.

so. how does outie irving know? who told him?

my leading theory so far was that reghabi was irving's contact. she seems to be the one with the most knowledge about the things going on inside lumon, so it would make sense that she would be working with irving.

HOWEVER, now that we've realized that PETEY knows about the testing floor.............who's to say it wasn't petey who told irving about the hallway? having been reintegrated, petey would probably have sought out irving as well!

let's go back to the message outie irving leaves over the phone in s2ep2

"you're not picking up. i get it."

whoever irving is calling, they HAVENT BEEN ANSWERING.

guys. i genuinely believe that PETEY might be irving's contact on the outside, and the reason he hasn't been able to contact him is because irving has no idea that petey died!!!!!

that's how irving knows about the exports hall.

[grapejuicegay]

tommy watched eddie move in with his girlfriend and immediately move back out while continuing to date her, cheat on her with his dead ex wife's doppelganger, saw him grow his punishment moustache and essentially be sad about chris not being around. and the entire time he sat there thinking. this is my competition.

[canondestiel]

does it ever drive you crazy that dean will shoulder the blame for literally whatever and then some people in this fandom will genuinely nod and agree as if his feelings make it fact. my brother in christ 🫱 you could say anything is his fault and he'd probably agree. this doesn't mean it's true, it just means he's deeply unwell.

[nekotachiriba]

fully obsessed with how lidner had a whole ass fanbase while she was takada's bodyguard, to the point where shes mentioned in a magazine(?)

'expressions of hal lidner' and it's just her staring blankfaced at nothing. Beautiful

[c-kiddo]

something weird and rancid about how disney does these ''''feminist''' girlboss remakes of its movies, recasts the lead as a very young black or brown actress and then lets her get absolutely eaten by wolves . no help, defending or pushback from who cast her, just using their actresses as publicity stunt sacrifices at this point

[majimaisms]

[sideblogdotjpeg]

ive been thinking about the red string superstition recently and also sol bufo always and it makes me sick how uncannily caldwell tanner has made sol to perfectly target me personally

(+ cropped versions !)

[1loer]

she could make hell feel just like home, so I'm never leaving her alone <3

by popular vote - hinanami

[iristial]

rider system album misora isurugi (build) | episode 4

[cosmichorrorlesbians]

what's your dissertation about? you mentioned it in the siltcord and i'm really interested

oh my god hey I'm so happy you're interested! broad strokes because I've only been working on it for a few weeks but: the current theme is 'resistant landscapes' (both man-made and natural) in the later writing of Shirley Jackson!

Essentially, my main thread is that Jackson had two parallel strands to her work, which as far as I can tell began kind of interrelated but then diverged quite significantly? She's probably best known now for The Haunting of Hill House and to a lesser extent We Have Always Lived In The Castle, which are these. weird surreal psychological horror novels, engaging explicitly or implicitly with the supernatural, and centred around introspective, strange and sometimes deeply misanthropic female characters from isolated social units with dysfunctional, possessive relationships to each other.

Aaaaand then on the other hand she was known for being a 'happy housewife' who wrote these whimsical, quasi-autobiographical stories about all her children and how hopeless her husband was. These were popular too. Betty Friedan called her out in landmark 1963 feminist manifesto The Feminine Mystique for essentially spreading patriarchal propaganda.

The interrelation between the two is really jarring, because in one family is a source of horror and tragedy and in the other it's a source of, like... laundry. And Jackson's home life wasn't everything those stories made it out to be-- her marriage was unfaithful, her mother could probably be fairly called emotionally abusive, and as I talked about on the siltcord, she developed severe agoraphobia which often left her housebound.

So, yeah. My plan is to explore the depiction of families as constructed social units in dialogue with the environments they are constructed in in that work. Obviously a lot of that is relation of house to family, in the context of which Hill House is especially rewarding to consider, but I also want to look at relationships with nature and urban environments (especially in the context of settler colonialism and how that has had an enduring legacy in Jackson's particular part of New England), xenophobia (largely in regard to class, though racism and anti-Semitism are presences in her writing), domesticity and the idea of the housewife, and how horror relates to All Of This. The ideal of making a home within a hostile environment and of that environment turning on you, essentially.

I don't yet have particular areas of focus within that broad umbrella, but I might update with bits and pieces about it as I work? I don't really talk about academic stuff on here but I am very much Critical Literary Analysis Guy and I do also post relentlessly about haunted houses as a concept so if people would be interested in it maybe I will

anyway if you've read this far I recommend Horror in Architecture: The Reanimated Edition (2024) by Joshua Comaroff and Ong Ker-Shing which is a book about how horror movie tropes can be mirrored in built environments! I'm reading it right now and it's conceptually fascinating plus fairlyyy comprehensible by academic standards (if a little dense) if you, like me, are a Fool who knows nothing of architecture. very good also for getting to look at pictures of some of the most Fucked Up Buildings (affectionate) you've ever seen.

[whollyjoly]

hot in the day, hot in the night, hot as the coal coming to tread, light on your bed, here we go oh, listen whistle roll (baby the, the sun is getting low)

the bucktommy cowboy au nobody asked for part two (part one) (part three)

(song insp.)

[degenerateshinji]

Hi, random anon here to tell you that you’re my favorite fanfic author rn and I love your link click fics so so much

HIIII THATS SO KIND OF YOUUU im studying rn so i cant draw a little blorbo like i usually do but heres some older drawings from my math notes they're cheering me on as i go

[coffeeghoulie]

sunshine gleams from your wedding band

so last november I started writing trophy wife au for shits and giggles, and it has been rotating in the back of my mind ever since. recently, @mintea-in-space and I went "what if instead of it just being Dew who plays the wife in the scene, all of the ghouls take turns playing wife. what if swiss got to be the trophy wife" and that and a recent Swiss/Copia kick turned into this. enjoy.

Explicit, 2k. Contains transmasc Copia, roleplay, anal sex, degradation, safeword usage, renegotiating boundaries, referenced affairs, rimming, blowjobs, and infidelity. She/her for Swiss, and length and clit used for her anatomy.

title from headfirst slide into cooperstown on a bad bet, and divider by @wrathofrats

All things considered, Swiss should be happy. Her husband has finally made time to take her to bed, lay her out on her back and, in his own words, spoil her. She should be happy he’s not sneaking out with the pool boy or the gardener or the maid or the cook.

Though, really, she’s one to talk about that.

There should be nothing better than staring up at her husband, her fingers tangled in Copia’s hair, watching a bead of sweat trail down his temple as he fucks her with everything he has. Legs hitched up around his waist. They didn’t even manage to take off her heels, just rucked up her cocktail dress, pulled the gusset of her panties aside; Swiss watches the pearly white shoes bounce in the air with the force of Copia’s thrusts.

It feels divine. But it isn’t enough to keep her mind from wandering.

Her mind replays the memory of Mountain pinning her to the inside of the garden shed door, hand clamped over her mouth to keep her quiet as he’d taken her apart roughly on the biggest cock she’s ever seen. How, after she’d cum harder than she had in recent memory, the junior landscaper had stumbled in on them.

But instead of running to tell Copia, Sunny had all but pushed Mountain aside, bending Swiss over a work table and licking her thoroughly clean. And then she just kept going. Sunny hadn’t even gotten a hand on herself, but had made just as spectacular a mess as Swiss herself. And Mountain, ever the gentleman, had cleaned up and walked them back to the house, just in time for Copia to come back from a grocery outing with Rain, a smudge of dark lipstick on his collar.

The thrill of almost being caught made the surge of jealousy worth it.

Above her, Copia babbles praise, ducking down to kiss and nip at the hinge of her jaw. Swiss dutifully turns her head to offer her husband better access, even though the blunt press of teeth does nothing more than make her length twitch softly against the lace of her panties. “Fuck, so perfect for me, cara,” he gasps, mismatched eyes wide, brow furrowed as he focuses. “Always so warm, so tight, so lovely.”

She groans softly, especially as the inside of her thigh rubs against his harness, a zip of pain against sensitive skin. But she doesn’t give Copia the reaction he’s clearly looking for.

“What- what does my wife need, cara?” he gasps, barely audible against the smack of his hips against her ass. It’s absolutely fucking obscene. “Please, cara, bunny, let me please you.”

Swiss can’t help herself, especially as Copia’s strap rubs just right inside her. A wet patch slowly grows on the front of her blush pink panties. “More, oh fuck, more, please!” she can’t stop herself from begging him.

But that too pings a memory, begging the exact same thing when her security had had enough of her flirtations and pulled her into one of the many, many closets in this vacation home. Aurora had dropped like a stone to her knees, swallowed her down expertly.

Swiss had hung on for dear life to bubblegum pink hair, babbling and gasping praise as Aurora had done something wicked with her tongue that made her squeal. Swiss, who normally praises herself on her stamina, had spilled down her throat in less than five minutes.

Had given them just enough time to tidy themselves up, Aurora pressing a kiss to her lips and swallowing Swiss’s moan when she’d tasted herself on her tongue.

She blinks back to herself when Copia shifts them, nearly folding Swiss in half into a mating press, her ankles hooked against his shoulders. His cock hits even deeper, and she shouts. The backs of her thighs feel the stretch. She scrabbles at the back of Copia’s head, his shoulders, his arms, anything she can reach. “Oh fuck!” she gasps, more startled than anything. “Oh, fuck, yes, Copia!”

Swiss realizes, horror settling into the pit of her stomach, that her husband is very, very close. He humps into her desperately, his scent sweet and spiking with arousal. And Swiss is nowhere near her own release.

“Cara, oh fuck, cara mia,” he moans in her ear, and Swiss squeezes her eyes shut.

“More, Copia, please, I need more,” she whispers, because it’s true. She’s been spoiled and now her husband isn’t enough. “I’m not- I can’t- Please, need to cum with you.”

Despite everything, that part’s still true.

Copia, Lucifer tempt him, tries as hard as he can to give his wife more. But there’s not much faster he can go, not much deeper he can thrust with this strap. He can’t stop, fumbling to fish her out of her panties and jerk her off in a last ditch attempt to make her cum alongside him.

Swiss meets his eyes, gold to green and white, and his thrusts turn erratic, a panicked look in his eye. He grinds hard against the textured base of the strap. Every muscle in his body goes tense. “Cara, bunny, oh fuck, ‘m sorry, ‘m cumming,” he babbles, grinding as deep as he can.

Copia’s eyes roll back, and Swiss holds him close as he cums. She sighs, deeply unsatisfied. She knows well enough Copia can keep going and is always more than happy to, but it still stings.

“Wanted to cum,” she sighs, almost petulantly. She makes sure Copia can read her disappointment. “Felt great, don’t get me wrong, love. Just. It wasn’t enough.”

His brows furrow, and he tenses a little. Swiss raises an eyebrow.

“What? Am I wrong?” she whispers, petting sweaty hair off of Copia’s forehead. She cranes her neck to kiss right between her husband’s eyes. “I didn’t cum. It wasn’t enough.”

The silence is uneasy, and Swiss takes a deep breath, lets it out on another sigh. The backs of her thighs are starting to ache. “Accused me once of hooking up with our staff,” she whispers. “Honestly, Cee, would you really be that surprised if I did? Any one of them would take better care of me than you could.”

She knows she’s toeing the line, but the shock on her husband’s face makes it worth it. Swiss hopes she can push him into anger. Make him take it out on her with a rough fuck that’ll make her cum all over herself.

But Copia doesn’t get angry. His eyes turn down, mismatched and ashamed. “’M sorry, cara,” he whines, and there’s a zing of distress in his tone that Swiss does not like one bit. “Please don’t replace me- Bunny, please-”

Regret and fear turn Swiss’s own scent sour with panic, and she pulls Copia to her, cupping the back of his head. “Yellow,” she whispers, and cringes as Copia tenses even further.

“Are you- I did not- Are you hurt? What’s wrong, Swiss?” Copia babbles, eyes wide and panicked, yanking against her arms to look her in the eye, holding himself up on shaky arms. “What can I do, please tell me what I can do-”

She takes a deep breath, a sad smile curling her lips. Swiss pets through his sweaty hair. The pink tourmaline set into her wedding band glitters in the light from the nightstand lamp. “I’m alright, topolino, I promise I’m okay,” she purrs, wrapping her tail around his thigh. “Called it for you. Think I let it get a little too real. For both of us. ‘M sorry.”

Copia relaxes, tucking his face into the crook of Swiss’s neck, nosing just behind her ear. “Don’t- Don’t be, bunny, we’re supposed to be- it is the point of the whole scene, is it not? A husband and wife unsatisfied with each other?”

Swiss’s tail flicks, and she holds him closer with a low growl. “Not if it causes any of us real distress,” she whispers, holding him against her pulse. “And I should’ve known better about your triggers. Forgive me.”

Copia huffs, kissing everywhere he can reach. “You’ve already been forgiven. Thank you.”

She smiles. “And you felt spectacular, I just wasn’t there yet,” she promises, kissing a sweaty temple, where the line of his papal paint once sat. “You always do such a good job takin’ care of me.”

He nods, running his hands up her sides. “You know I try, bunny,” he whispers.

“You do,” Swiss agrees. She tries to coax him into breathing with her, letting him come down slowly and carefully. “You always have. Worked so hard, for all of us. ‘M grateful for everything.”

Copia kisses her jaw. “I- I am grateful to hear it, cara. That it goes appreciated.”

She purrs, tilting her head instinctively to offer him more space to work. “Then I will make sure you know it. Though, I think, we should renegotiate the scene, or, at least, our roles in it. Because I don’t want you to feel distressed like that again. We come out here with the pack to have fun.”

He huffs a laugh, doing his best approximation of a purr in response. “And have just. Unbelievable amounts of sex.”

Swiss raises an eyebrow playfully. “This pack? Horny all the fucking time? Who would have thought?”

He laughs, and Swiss’s heart feels lighter in her chest. She pets down his spine. “You- you are right, bunny,” Copia chuckles. “But, eh, you wanted to renegotiate?”

“’M thinking that outside of this room, or any room the two of us happen to be in alone, we can pretend to be the unhappy couple,” Swiss proposes. “But in here, when it’s just us, we’ll be just us. No more pretending you’re not good enough, okay?”

Copia takes a breath before nodding. “I can- I can agree to that. And scenes with the others?”

Swiss shrugs, thinking about the time he’d invited Aether in for a threesome, her length twitching against her hip, half covered by her panties. “I think that gets discussed with whoever’s joining. We can have a full pack meeting about it in the morning.”

“That sounds perfect, cara,” he whispers, kissing her cheek. There’s no hiding the genuine fondness in the gesture.

“Glad we’re on the same page,” Swiss chuffs happily, pulling him into a soft kiss.

Copia props himself up on his elbows, tilting his head like he’s trying to get a better look at Swiss, still on her back for him. “Beautiful, cara,” he whispers, warmth behind his mismatched eyes, cheeks still flushed from earlier. “And I believe that I owe my wife an orgasm.”

Swiss laughs, shakes her head. The gold charms and trinkets woven into her braids clink and click together, almost reminding Copia of wind chimes. “You don’t owe me anything, Copia,” she chuckles. “But I won’t lie and say I don’t want it.”

“There’s my bunny,” Copia cups her cheek in his hand, and Swiss leans into it, something glittering mischievously in her eye as she kisses his palm. “Now, how does my darling wife feel about having her clit sucked until she spills down my throat?”

Swiss throws her head back with a low groan. “Oh, fuck, Cee, I think you know exactly how I feel about that,” she moans, throbbing against her hip, blurting a little pre into her panties. Copia grins wolfishly, starting to kiss down her body as he carefully pulls out.

“Then, let us make that a reality,” he promises, and Swiss knows he’s always been a man of his word.

[anonymous-chicken-was-taken]

So, how rare ARE Ford's extra fingers, anyway?

I'm not gonna lie, at first I was skeptical of Ford's claims that the Weirdness Magnetism had an effect on him. Like, yeah, the whole having six fingers thing isn't exactly common, but it's a naturally-occurring event. Stan describes it as a birth defect, and there doesn't seem to be a noticeably great number of people with those in Gravity Falls. It wouldn't be all that farfetched for Ford to think he was just Built Different, for like, at least 7 reasons, but then you start actually thinking about it.

Polydactyly isn't exactly common. Approximately 1 in 1,000 babies are born with some form of polydactyly. While it's true that postaxial polydactyly (extra digit is past the pinkie) is the most common form, which is shown to be the kind Ford has in the x-ray at the beginning of AToTS, there are several other extreme circumstances.

Extra digits in polydactyly aren't usually found on all limbs. It can occur on hands and feet (and Alex has confirmed that Ford does, indeed, have six toes on both feet) but rarely does it occur on both feet, or both hands, much less both hands and both feet. And even when it does occur more than once on one person, the extra digits aren't usually fully-formed. Oftentimes they don't even have bones. When they do have bones, they're usually much smaller, or barely opposable (if they have joints at all). When they're big enough to be maneuverable, they usually interfere with the structure of the hands/feet in negative ways. All this means that an extra finger or toe which doesn't direly require a surgery to remove the extra digit within the first year or two of life is incredibly uncommon.

And let's remember: that's just for one extra digit. Ford has four.

For Ford to have fully functional polydactyly on both hands and both feet, to the point where it's basically impossible to tell which one is finger x without x-rays... the odds of that are astronomically unlikely. Never-before-recorded, one in a kazillion, borderline medically unfathomable sort of rare.

I think I do believe the Weirdness Magnetism could've affected Ford, actually.