#if that doesn't tell you enough

[neverlove-anchor]

Just saw someone saying that the main 4 in Riverdale getting in a polycule is the best ending that could have happened and when someone pointed out that Jughead is aroace and romance repulsed they got super butthurt bc "it was not cannon in the original comics" and "it was not canon in the show"

That's what I say, before following any alloallo person in fandom and listening to their opinions the first thing you need to look for is if they are normal about aspecs. Most are not

I can't even count the times when I see a queer person in fandom, usually so up in arms about representation, happily erasing aspec characters' sexuality

[bbbbbbbbatman]

Bruce keeping a tighter and tighter lid on his identity around the Justice League because with each new person to reveal their identity he realizes that he has fucked far too high a percentage of his co workers as Bruce Wayne and he has to take this secret to his grave

[inkskinned]

it took me 964 applications. i've been counting, but not well. i don't always add every quick-apply to the spreadsheet. this one was five rounds of interviews. saying my elevator pitch like a parrot, peppy and happy. for a long time, i didn't hear anything from them. i thought it was the same as always - they say where did we find you, seem excited, then ghost me. i had sent three follow-up emails hi, just checking in! excited for this opportunity!

i have a master's degree and over 10 years of work in the industry. i've worked 5 jobs at once. i have worked hard and i tried hard my entire life, no matter how burnt out i got or whatever else happened to me. i am the representation of the american dream.

but i'm not a good fit for an entry-level job, i guess, so i get told a lot we just don't think you're be happy. but they fill other positions internally, instead saying - well, there was another candidate who had 6 more days of experience. if i'm lucky, i get this sad little email back from the recruiter, all saying the same thing: we liked you, but we went with another option, good luck job hunting. that is - if i'm lucky, and they even communicate at all with me.

what a waste of fucking time. i've been counting interviews - i am a fucking master total of 42 fucking hours. can you fucking believe. i would have made rent if they'd fucking paid me.

and now nobody does remote, even though this is a job that for the last five years has been remote-completely. now they are paying 14 an hour for a job that used to be 33.50. now they are saying we are looking for rockstars and mean we don't give you health insurance. "we need someone motivated and a little crazy" translates to you will have one day of PTO annually. every job board filled with the same AI-generated bullshit of "our values/join our family/Make Waves With Us". they need to be constantly growing. who knows if they're genuinely hiring.

sometimes i want to write did you know i saved a life once into the cover letter. sometimes i want to put a little secret in there, a little short story about how when i was a kid i used to dream of speaking to my plants. i have the same six conversations with people and answer the same eight questions. sometimes at the end they'll throw something in there that's completely irrelevant. what is my go-to belting song (and yes, they say, there is a wrong answer). what animal would i turn into. what's the most reactive element i've had direct contact with. do i know how to lift an elephant.

964 feels like a nice number, somehow round and pleasing. sometimes i have nightmares where the spreadsheet grows arms and strangles me to death. i saw an old friend in one of these recently; he said the earth will end and you'll still be applying until you run out of breath. 964 is a lot of time to spend filling out an application on a site that doesn't load properly and just steals my information.

one time in desperation i applied for a supermarket position. just anything to make the ends meet, good lord, i'd take anything. i was rejected from it. i'm not, like, proud. i'd take anything so i can afford to live again. and meanwhile, god! our fucking president!

i can't think about it without shaking. i had to beg for help. i paid my own way through college - i have been working (under the table) since i was 12.

nine hundred and sixty-four. and finally! something! and here's the fucking thing: i had to turn it down because it's in your city. how pathetic to think that 2 months ago, i would have agreed to move out to DC, my hands in your hair. my life splashed on your sheets. how pathetic that 2 months ago, you said you wanted me. 964 fucking jobs later, and how pathetic! i can't say yes because my life is entirely different. holy shit.

it's just hell. because god fucking protect you if you have a breakup or a mental breakdown or health issues or need your meds. you can try for a year and still hear fucking nothing from the job market. i have no idea how many times i've said i give up and i still fucking kept doing it. every moment like sandpaper against a raw wound. lowering and lowering my expectations. watching my savings dwindle to nothing. thank you for submitting your application!

back into the frying pan. over and over again.

[lazylittledragon]

i need guenhwyvar to be Cat so bad

[shotmrmiller]

military issued wife but you didn't know that using the "dating app" your friend brought up once in idle talk would end with you in an office with a (signed) marriage license on the desk, actively not looking at your 'husband', the burly lummox with a skull mask who's dwarfing the chair he can barely fit in.

you'd thought it'd be like tinder. a potential dating site. as in messaging on the app, getting to know each other, exchanging personal numbers before going on a date. not marriage. not opening your front door expecting it to be your door dasher and instead it's him with a rucksack in one hand and duffel in the other.

he'd looked down his thick nose at you, grunted a quiet, "not bad", and pushed past as if you were a swinging door to a saloon. what the fuck had he been doing there? you'd only spoken a couple of times with him and left on read for the some of it. you'd chosen to move on, try to match with someone else but the app had stopped working (you couldn't swipe right or left anymore) so you'd just put it on the back burner. you had better things to worry about than another disappointment of a man then.

except now said disappointment of a overly large man is taking up most of the couch and his legs aren't even all that far apart. and he's at your house. the house you'd never sent him the address to. as a matter of fact, you'd received a text from an unknown number earlier that had said someone would be home in a few. you'd ignored it thinking it was a wrong number situation but now you're sure it was him. how he got your phone number is also a mystery.

you'd tried to argue. to threaten him with the cops. to get him out and away, far fucking away, but he'd only scooped you up and let you pelt his broad back with your fists. chuckled low in his throat while he smacked your arse to keep still. "i'd hate to drop m'wife."

whatever fight you had he ate right out of you with the heels of your feet digging into the large curve of his shoulders and his hands curled around the back of your thighs. maybe it's because it'd been a while but he'd played your body like an instrument and had you bucking your hips against his tongue, slick coating his face in minutes. (your cheeks burn furiously hot when you think back on what he'd said then. "tight little thing 'nd you've only taken my two fingers." it's flattering, sue you.)

he'd lapped at your sodden cunt until you had overstimulation clumping your lashes together, inner thighs tender from the bristles of his shorn hair and unshaven jaw, your palm on the crown of his head having both pulled him to you and pushed him away.

and then he'd wiped your release with the back of his hand, thumbed the swollen flesh of your bottom lip and rumbled that it's time for bed.

which eventually led to you being here. in front of a man he calls Price, a marriage certificate unlike any you've ever glanced upon, a large gloved hand curled snugly around your leg, fingers grazing a little too close to where he'd left aching and swollen just yesterday.

you're reading the terms and conditions of anything from here on forward. even the fine print.

and then soap comes around and plants a seed in his head of him planting a seed in you :/ at least you can tell your nosy ass aunt that at least you've got a man while she's on her 4th divorce on thanksgiving 💅🏼

[journey-to-the-attic]

"karasu search how 2 cheer human up"

"karasu search difference between sad human and zoning out human"

"karasu search how long is it safe for humans to zone out for?"

(+ a longer look at each scene:)

[bertoyana]

#ship so good they (accidentally) gave each other abandonment issues

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Maybe we never had a chance.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[starry-bi-sky]

mmm throwaway conversation between Dan and Danny that popped into my head that I had to write out:

"You spent ten years being a one-man mass extinction event, then went back in time and fought me, and lost." Danny snarls, arms crossed and throat tight. His mouth pulls back to bare dagger-sharp teeth, and his eyes burn with the familiar thrum of ectoplasm heating up behind his eyes. "If I didn't believe you were half of Vlad before, I do now."

His other self -- and really, can he even call him that? He's half of Vlad too. Two halves severed from each other and welded together to make a new whole, -- snaps his head over to him. Wild-eyed and furious, he looks unlike the man Danny fought before, the one unruffled and untouched, unbothered by the world around him. It's familiar, but not like the way a reflection is.

"What's that supposed to mean." The Other hisses, matching Danny's scowl one-for-one with fangs much bigger and sharper than his.

But there's a reason lions fear hyenas. Danny matches the rumble in The Other's chest with one of his own, and shoves his face close to his. "I don't lose."

[currentlyjaywalking]

So idea where Batman finds out Captain Marvel's identity and respects that he wants to keep it secret and still be independent but also is a little worried and saddened by him not having any people his age he can talk to about hero stuff so he sets up him and Damian as pen pals.

Neither one knows the other's civilian or hero identity (although Billy very strongly suspects it's Robin because c'mon) but they were each vetted by Batman so might as well?

[cosmicredcadet]

enough stories about how someone learns to truely be happy through love. i want a story where someone is desperately seeking out love thinking it's the only way to be happy only for them to learn by the end that happiness is what they make of it and they don't need love at all to make it.

[oneroomjestershow]

CHICKEN NUGGET!!!!!!!!!!!!

I deep fried him for you

[wandixx]

Seriously chaotic fashion misadventures

I realized I posted a teaser and never really followed up on it, so here is some more of that

“Hey, Dami?”

Boy hadn’t looked up from the kittens he was bottle feeding but let out a hum indicating he listened.

“I'm thinking about trying out a more girlish style. Do you think it would suit me?”

Well, Damian had no idea but if Dani wished to give it a chance, then, well, the only proper reaction was to offer his aid.

*-*-*

“Father, I require access to your rouge gallery.”

Bruce almost choked on his breakfast when his youngest made this announcement.

Rouge gallery, as his children playfully called it, was vast collection of lipsticks, which he collected to uphold his Brucie persona. Famous playboy with head constantly in the clouds couldn’t not show up with discreet signs of scandal from time to time. And it couldn’t always be the same shade. Or scent when he choose more subtle approach and used one of his more feminine perfumes.

In all honesty, he enjoyed this.

But that’s not the point, point was that Damian wanted to use it and Bruce needed to know what disaster would fall upon him if he agreed.

“Mind telling me why, chum?”

Dick, who visited Manor for a weekend, barely stifled his laughter while Tim stared at his empty coffee mug like it personally betrayed him. Cass just wore her usual knowing and mischievous smile.

Damian shifted in his chair, hands clenching on butter knife. He was nervous and suddenly Bruce dreaded the answer he was about to hear.

“I don’t see how me sharing this information would change anything. It won’t be used to cause harm to anyone but it’s necessary in the extracurricular project I just started.”

“Dami, what project?” Dick asked, voice oozing with genuine curiosity and excitement. He was almost bouncing.

“I don’t want to disclose it.”

“Is this a hero or civilian type of deal?”

Damian didn’t look any of them in the eyes, both hands clenching on his seat as he kept shifting. Bruce narrowed his eyes. Was his youngest… flustered?

“Civilian”

“Alright, great” Dick swung back with single clap, almost tripping his chair over “I think B won’t have anything against you using his rouge gallery, will he?” Man knew his oldest son well enough to recognize his ‘don’t you dare to disagree’ tone. He was confused but there wasn’t any harm so he nodded with affirmative hum.

“Thank you, Father”

Boy practically inhaled rest of his food and rushed outside. Despite all his training and all his efforts, they clearly saw his excitement. Tim pinched himself and returned to staring at his mug.

“Cass, have you seen what I’ve seen or am I overreacting?” Dick asked, barely restraining his enthusiasm. Girl nodded eagerly, shoving more crumbs into her mouth. Young man cheered, throwing his hands up.

“What have I missed?” Tim mumbled, frowning a little.

“BABY BAT HAS A CRUSH!”

Cass nodded again with wide smile.

Oh.

Oh no.

Who were they? What did he know about them? Was Protocol 3r0s started? Did someone run a background check already? What could they do if they somehow hurt Damian? Was this person a risk to their identities? Oh gods, oh no.

He probably will have to do The Talk™.

He always dreaded having The Talk, with any of his kids. He felt The Talk with Damian would be even worse. Understandably so.

“Also sleep in at least three da-”

“Fuck off, dick.”

“Was this insult or-”

His children remained obvious to how much work it meant, cheering and sassing each other like they often did.

*-*-*

Damian did not know how it was possible but he lowered his guard enough to get caught.

"What are you doing?" Brown choked out after they stared at each other for a long moment.

"It does not concern you–"

"You're rummaging through my wardrobe, not many things concern me more and also, that's frickin creepy don't do it to anyone outside of the family"

She did have a point however he was not convinced it would be the correct approach if he shared his plan. Father's wards (even unofficial like Brown) tended to make assumptions and overreact based on these conjectures. Dani wasn't easy to scare off but he didn't want to check if his family would manage. They often did things thought to be impossible.

He tried to get away but the blonde stood fiercely in a door, leaving the window as the only way out. He wasn't this desperate. Yet.

Girl looked more and more angry at his silence. He had to give her some answers.

Now that he actually considered it, she could be a useful asset. She was far better versed in women's fashion and if he phrased it correctly, he wouldn't even need to bribe her. Question was, how should he phrase it?

"I have an acquaintance- I have a friend," he corrected himself "from the animal shelter I volunteer at. She mentioned wanting to try out more 'girlish style' and asked for my opinion. I wanted to see if you had any clothes that would fit her. She is smaller than me so I thought that whatever I take, it wouldn't be missed." 

Brown grinned with an unsettling gleam in her eyes. He suddenly regretted opening his mouth if not coming to this room in the first place. 

"Say no more, I have a plan Demon Child"

[demaparbat-hp]

In your Spitfire AU, since Zuko is looking after Lu Ten II, what happened to Ursa?

Zuko is slightly older in the Spitfire AU. He was banished at fifteen, his head a little clearer and denial a little weaker than in canon. After his first look through the Air Temples, Zuko decides that if he can't find a myth, he might as well search for the next best thing.

Finding Ursa isn't easy, but in time he makes it to a secluded house in a near-forgotten part of the world. His mom is there, older and stronger and alive.

But she isn't alone.

And Zuko, as it turns out, didn't keep the best company during his search.

When Ursa is discovered and her secrets are laid bare for assassins (for Ozai) to find, she begs Zuko to take his little brother and run. She'll do anything it takes to protect her children, even if that means leaving them behind to keep a target off their back. Ursa diverts attention from them and allows Lu Ten's ancestry to be kept a secret. She orders Zuko not to follow her again, and disappears.

Zuko is left with a little three-year-old brother to raise and a mother he cannot hold onto.

[nadiajustbe]

I think the most beautiful thing about writing of Howl and Sophie's pair is that they are written as people before being written as a pair. Let me explain this very quick.

The thing about book Sophie and Howl is that they are not really fully fitting into any "classic" romantic trope. They are not exactly enemies to lovers, as their angry chats are definitely cannot be considered a life or death battle, they are not rivals to lovers because the only aspect of rivalry between them is the cleaningness of Howl's room. They are not friends to lovers, as their relationship just doesn't fit into "friendship" structure at the very start, nor they are roomates (yes, they live in the same house but that's not the core aspect of their relationships). Of course, you can go on and fit the name of the trope you found specifically for them, but that's the thing.

They simply cannot be processed through a pairings lenses only, in order to understand how they act in relationship you need to analyse them separately, as a characters first of all. Cause that's what the book itself does!

Sure, it doesn't have a whole lot of romance instead, but it gives us time to learn and observe the life of incredibly written, alive characters, understand them as personalities first of all, while slowly immersing the dynamic between two characters (in this case, Howl and Sophie) into work. They are written as personalities, both being fully separated and interviewing, changing eachother's point of view.

It's difficult to find a trope for them. They're are not a trope. They are Howl and Sophie, and that's probably the only way their dynamic can be properly described. Just as real people, they are not really fitting into the boxes of linial character progression, but go way deeper into being complex, filled with little differences and moments only people with their personality can have in romantic (or any different) kind of interaction. They're imperfect, and silly, and multidimensional and the reader knows them well enough to imagine them interacting way beyond of what the book says to them.

They are being people before being a ship, a pair of a trope — and that's why they work so perfectly charming in the end.

Howl and Sophie are unique in being themselves.

[bunnieswithknives]

Okay but does Peri KNOW that Dev has a robotic leg when he shows up? Something about the fact that Peri's wand is a cane and the fact that Dev could have kept his leg and just had a cane for the rest of his life instead tickles my brain.

I mean he doesn't know immediately, he wasn't like briefed or anything, but he basically lives in Dev's house so he definitely finds out. Peri doesn't comment on or react to it all though really, there's no reason for him to think anything of it, plenty of people have missing limbs, a lot of people are born without them, it doesn't necessarily mean anything sinister happened. He had no reason to pry or ask and I think Peri's lack of reaction to it helped Dev feel a bit more comfortable in his skin. (Not by much but.. a little bit.)