#always reblog too

[gowns]

[source]

Anyone under the age of THIRTY?!?!?! 30???? Must show photo ID to enter the library? Or be accompanied by your parent or legal guardian who must sign an affidavit every time you come to the library?!

[originalartblog]

Apparently much-needed reminder that reposting artists' art (by saving the images or screenshotting them and reuploading them yourself) on other platforms without the artists' expressed permission and without credit is theft and an insult to their passion and craft. You are profiting (in views, in attention, in feedback) from someone else's work and ideas, who do not get that feedback for sharing their creation.

If you are an art reposter, you are a thief and I have no respect for you.

[kiwinatorwaffles]

every aromantic person who has to witness someone say “there is no non-romantic explanation for these characters” should be financially compensated

EDIT: if i see another one of you fuckers arguing “but sometimes they ARE just super romantic” i’m tired of being nice. i’m just gonna let you know that 1. amanormativity has rotted your fucking brain and 2. it’s people like you that are the reason why aros are suffering. other aros you are not absolved of this. just fucking listen to us for once and stop denying our experiences and pleas.

[hamartia-grander]

Wyll calling his lover his 'star'. Astarion's spawn ending being him adventuring and performing heroics of his own choice. Wyll naming his adopted daughter Lily. The flower Astarion's lover puts on his grave being a lily. Monster hunter turned monster and monster turned hunter. Can nobody hear me

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Autism and Phonecalls

The Autistic Teacher

[dotmander]

i am grabbing you by the shoulders. you must stop thinking of other people as "the cool kids" and "popular bloggers." you must destroy the divide between You and Them. we are all just idiots playing with dolls.

yes, to Get Interaction in the OC Interaction Fandom you have to interact with other people. you have to send them asks and reblog their posts with commentary and dm people and put yourself out there. if you want more interaction you have GOT to be the one to take the first step; you cannot rely on other people to do it for you.

"but my mental illness makes it hard for me to put myself out there!" me too!!! i get it!!! that's why i don't post on this blog and i barely speak in my own server!!! but that's the social part of social media; there is performance in every interaction. yes, it gets tiring. but it's always a good idea to take breaks!! you don't HAVE to post jack shit.

i don't have a good way to end this post i'm just. yelling into the void, like everybody else. i love you. please don't feel like you're lesser because of a note count.

[bobbinalong]

Prepare for trouble! And make it double!

[starry-bi-sky]

i need to get this out of my head before i continue clone^2 but danny being the first batkid. Like, standard procedure stuff: his parents and sister die, danny ends up with Vlad Masters. He drags him along to stereotypical galas and stuff; Danny is not having a good time.

He ends up going to one of the Wayne Galas being hosted ever since elusive Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham. Vlad is crowing about having this opportunity as he's been wanting to sink his claws into the company for a long while now. Danny is too busy grieving to care what he wants.

And like most Galas, once Vlad is done showing him off to the other socialites and the like, he disappears. Off to a dark corner, or to one of the many balconies; doesn't matter. There he runs into said star of the show, Bruce who is still young, has been Batman for at least a year at this point, but still getting used to all these damn people and socializing. He's stepped off to hide for a few minutes before stepping back into the shark tank.

And he runs into a kid with circles under his eyes and a dull gleam in them. Familiar, like looking into a mirror.

Danny tries to excuse himself, he hasn't stopped crying since his parents died and it's been months. He rubs his eyes and stands up, and stumbles over a half-hearted apology to Mister Wayne. Some of Vlad's etiquette lessons kicking in.

Bruce is awkward, but he softens. "That's alright, lad," he says, pulling up some of that Brucie Wayne confidence, "I was just coming out here to get some fresh air."

There's a little pressing; Bruce asks who he's here with, Danny says, voice quiet and grief-stricken, that he's with his godfather Vlad Masters. Bruce asks him if he knows where he is, and Danny tells him he does. Bruce offers to leave, Danny tells him to do whatever he wants.

It ends with Bruce staying, standing off to the side with Danny in silence. Neither of them say a word, and Danny eventually leaves first in that same silence.

Bruce looks into Vlad Masters after everything is over, his interest piqued. He finds news about him taking in Danny Fenton: he looks into Danny Fenton. He finds news articles about his parents' deaths, their occupations, everything he can get his hands on.

At the next gala, he sees Danny again. And he looks the same as ever: quiet like a ghost, just as pale, and full of grief. Bruce sits in silence with him again for nearly ten minutes before he strikes a conversation.

"Do you like to do anything?"

Nothing. Just silence.

Bruce isn't quite sure what to do: comfort is not his forte, and Danny doesn't know him. He's smart enough to know that. So he starts talking about other things; anything he can think of that Brucie Wayne might say, that also wasn't inappropriate for a kid to hear.

Danny says nothing the entire time, and is again the first to leave.

Bruce watches from a distance as he intercts with Vlad Masters; how Vlad Masters interacts with him. He doesn't like what he sees: Vlad Masters keeps a hand on Danny's shoulder like one would hold onto the collar of a dog. He parades him around like a trophy he won.

And there are moments, when someone gets too close or when someone tries to shake Danny's hand, of deep possessiveness that flints over Vlad Masters' eyes. Like a dragon guarding a horde.

He plays the act of doting godfather well: but Bruce knows a liar when he sees one. Like recognizes like.

Danny is dull-eyed and blank faced the entire time; he looks miserable.

So Bruce tries to host more parties; if only so that he can talk to Danny alone. Vlad seems all too happy to attend, toting Danny along like a ribbon, and on the dot every hour, Danny slips away to somewhere to hide. Bruce appears twenty minutes later.

"I was looking into your godfather's company," he says one night, trying to think of more things to say. Some nights all they do is sit in silence. "Some of my shareholders were thinking of partnering up--"

"Don't."

He stops. Danny hardly says a word to him, he doesn't even look at him -- he's sitting on the ground, his head in his knees. Like he's trying to hide from the world. But he's looking, blue eyes piercing up at Bruce.

Bruce tilts his head, practiced puppy-like. "Pardon?"

"Don't." Danny says, strongly. "Don't make any deals with Vlad."

It's the most words Danny's spoken to him, and there's a look in his eyes like a candle finding its spark. Something hard. Bruce presses further, "And why is that?"

The spark flutters, and flushes out. Danny blinks like he's coming out of a trance, and slumps back into himself. "Just don't."

Bruce stares at him, thoughtful, before looking away. "Alright. I won't."

And they fall back into silence.

Danny, when he leaves, turns to look at Bruce, "I mean it." He says; soft like he's telling a secret, "Don't make any deals with him. Don't be alone with him. Don't work with him."

He's scampered away before Bruce can question him further.

(He never planned on working with Vlad Masters and his company; he's done his research. He's seen the misfortune. But nothing ever leads back to him. There's no evidence of anything. But Danny knows something.)

At their next meeting, Danny starts the conversation. It's new, and it's welcomed. He says, cutting through their five minute quiet, that he likes stars. And he doesn't like that he can't see them in Gotham.

Bruce hums in interest, and Danny continues talking. It's as if floodgates had been opened, and as Bruce takes a sip of his wine, it tastes like victory.

("Tucker told me once--") ("Tucker?") ("Oh-- uh, one of my best friends. He's a tech geek. We haven't talked in a while.")

(Danny shut down in his grief -- his friends are worried, but can't reach him. When he goes back to the manor with Vlad, he fishes out his phone and sends them a message.)

(They are ecstatic to hear from him.)

It all culminates until one day, when Danny is leaving to go back inside, that Bruce speaks up. "You know," He says, leaning against the railing. "The manor has many rooms; plenty of space for a guest."

The implication there, hidden between the lines. And Danny is smart, he looks at Bruce with a sharp glean in his eyes, and he nods. "Good to know."

The next time they see each other, Danny has something in his hands. "Can you hold onto something for me?" He asks.

When Bruce agrees, Danny places a pearl into his palm. or, at least, it's something that looks like a pearl. Because it's cold to the touch; sinking into Bruce's white silk gloves with ease and shimmering like an opal. It moves a little as it settles into his hand, and the moves like its full of liquid.

Bruce has never seen anything like it before, but he does know this; it's not human. "What is it?" He asks, and Danny looks uncomfortable.

"I can't tell you that." He says, shifting on his foot like he's scared of someone seeing it. "But please be careful with it. Treat it like it's extremely fragile."

When Bruce gets home, he puts it in an empty ring box and hides the box in the cave. He tries researching into what it is. he can't find anything concrete.

Everything comes to a head one day when Danny appears at the manor's doorstep one evening, soaking wet in the rain, and bleeding from the side.

[oifaaa]

I will never understand the obsession with making tims favourite robin Jason when it couldn't be more painfully obvious that tims favourite robin was Dick

Like people are so caught up in the concept, the made up angst, that tims favourite robin beat him up that they straight up misunderstand how much more significant Tim and Dicks relationship is not to mention the added layers of Tim originally being created as the ultimate self insert character which for a good number of readers meant they grew up with Dick as their favourite robin and didn't really like Jason just for not being Dick

[virgothozul]

Jsdcbbccbhcb !! Merci !! tant de personnes ont réagi au précédent post en français ahahahah 🤣 c’est incroyable ! je ne m’attendais pas à tant de réactions merci merci ! Thank you everyone for the attention on my last post !!!

This is when Miles drops at the police station like a prince, a whole year later, nonchalant about his hiatus. And Phoenix is most likely losing his 💩 3 feet away.

[krazieka2]

Assassins!! They’re friends!!!!

[porcupine-girl]

I am sick so please entertain me

I know that some of you, my lovely followers, have managed to never fall down any Chinese rabbit holes no matter how hard I've pushed.

So if you have NOT watched The Untamed or read MDZS, only gleaned what you can from Tumblr posts being foisted upon your dash, please tell me what you believe to be the plot of The Untamed. (If you have watched it, reblog this because I'm sure you also have followers who have not seen it and I will take all comers.)

[fellshish]

If you ever find yourself wondering ‘should i reblog that fic even though i’ve never read this’ yes. Always yes.

[statementlou]

🎧

[anti-ao3]

if you still donate to ao3 even though:

ao3 censors any support for palestine

they barely improve the website despite surpassing their donation goals every single time

they do not see anything wrong with RPF that sexualizes REAL minors

they excuse racist fanworks, they actually suspend anyone who does not feel comfortable with pedo/incest shippers, or literally anyone who labels themselves antis or anti p/roships

they also don't see anything wrong with ai generated stories that most likely steal from real writers that put their heart and soul into their works

and perhaps a lot more things they do that i might be forgetting

seriously.

if you get mad at marginalized ppl calling out ao3, and you act entitled when your fandom interests are being threatened, then you're a privileged asshole. if you call everyone "puritans" or "stupid kids" for being critical of ao3, you're a privileged asshole. this is not about you. this is about the actual harm ao3 does to real people. your favorite fanfictions should not be your priority. especially if you want to keep supporting palestine or people of color in general, you can't just get mad when they point out the flaws of ao3 and stop supporting them when they're not convenient to you.