#and extremely illegal

[anormalkidingotham]

i just saw an ad that the riddler is looking for contestants for his new game show...

[seenfull]

If you keep drawing ronnie bigger I wonder how big he’s gonna end up??? 👀👀👀👀 what’s the fattest you’d be comfortable drawing him?

Nothing drastic, for now >:)

[agentfascinateur]

Palestinian educators have previously told Middle East Eye that Israeli authorities were aiming to eliminate its curriculum in favour of the Israeli version, in an attempt to erode Palestinian identity and "distort" history. 

Academic content Israel has sought to censor, they said, includes the logo of the Palestinian Authority, the Palestinian flag, lessons that discuss the Palestinian struggle against occupation, the right of return and prisoners, settlements, the immigration of settlers to Palestine, military checkpoints, the intifada, displaced villages, and considering Zionism a racist political movement.

[chadchrmings]

harry hook scottish tweets 1/?

[enbysiriusblack]

the marauders are the most dramatic ppl ever.

james 'acts like the world is ending and everyone he loves has died everytime he loses a quidditch match' potter

sirius 'declares life pointless to the entire school and decides to make it everyone's problem when zonko's runs out of stink bombs' black

remus 'stutters, drops everything, throws up, trips down seven flights of stairs at the mere mention of his crush' lupin

peter 'got shouted at by madame pince on his first day and decided to spend the next seven years pissing her off as much as possible' pettigrew

[gingermintpepper]

There are many things people expect from one called 'God of Blood'. Always, the first thought is the blood of war, the blood of violence, the blood of the weak shed for the goals of the strong. Ares doesn't think of the blood of battle at all. When he thinks of blood, he envisions the many tied knots of blood bonds and bonds forged in the blood of battle. Blood sons and blood daughters, blood brothers and battle sisters, blood oaths and blood vengeance - he watches over them all and keeps close each one of these bonds.

One cannot begrudge his displeasure then when he realises he cannot tell Leto's offspring apart just by looking at them.

It was easier when it was just Artemis. Dark hair curled about her shoulders, a fierce mien whenever Father summons her to the mountain, a scattering of bones and blood shed whenever she was disturbed; the eldest child of Leto was a wild thing, sharp toothed with sharper claws always at the ready. There's whispers of her being a twin, of her other half being made to crawl on their belly as penance for their sin of god-slaying but Ares pays it little mind. What twins look alike among their number? Even dog litters are born distinct with all their unique markings inlaid in their fur. Artemis' twin too would be much more than their sister's mirror image.

Pouring over his list now, he wishes anything about Phoebus Apollo was that simple.

Mirror image did not begin to describe it. The twins were the same height, the same build, had the same colour and texture hair, ate the same raw food and drank the same amount of nectar. There was no difference in how they dressed, no difference in the company they kept, no variance in the weapons they used. There are some days Ares still cannot believe Phoebus will grow into a man and not some nymph with the way his ears have that slender point. He watches them now, sitting together beneath a shady palm and stringing their bows in an uncanny unison and curses because he still cannot tell them apart. What use is his skill in knowing blood when they both have the same damn blood running through their veins? What bond is there to sense when they are tied so tightly together, Ares can scarcely tell brother from sister?

He sighs. Unadorned and completely alone, the only way to know who is who is to speak to them. He'll have to find more ways to tell them apart from a distance. Surely they cannot stay this similar all the rest of their immortal lives.

[rotzaprachim]

literally half of America wants to vote for a guy whose telling them that every one of their problems is caused by a vague mass of inhuman undocumented immigrants and they believe that. This is a problem. We should focus on what an insane fucking problem it is. It is a very bad thing that so many Americans are so very xenophobic and racist they heard an hour of intense xenophobia and racism and found these ideas attractive. It is not a good thing that they believe this. It is a bad thing they believe this. White Americans of all economic classes who believe this are participating in racism and xenophobia, as well as the extreme sexism exhibited by the party as of late. They are therefor propagating racism and xenophobia that will hurt millions of people. We should do what we can to oppose this ideology

[mamawasatesttube]

ooooo timkon w “Can you just hold me?” or “You look like you need a hug." for the ficlet thing :3

Kon's hair is a frizzy mess.

That's the first red flag. Kon is ridiculously vain when he wants to be, with a whole hair care shower routine, silken pillowcases, and an array of curl creams and whatnot that he had to explain to Tim twice before any of it stuck in his head properly. Tim teases him for it now and then, but he knows it's because Kon doesn't like people seeing him at anything but his best. Kon got too used to being picked apart on camera for that.

So the fact that his hair is unkempt and mussed as he lets himself in from the balcony is... concerning.

Even more concerning is the way he barely even looks at Tim before he throws himself at the bed, flopping face-down with an oof. The balcony door closes itself behind him like an afterthought, and he heaves a huge, melancholy sigh.

"Kon?" Tim pushes away from his desk, trotting over to the bedside. Kon's legs are sticking off, and Tim shakes his head fondly as he reaches down to tug Kon's boots off. "Long day, huh?"

The first boot comes off in his hands; the second follows almost instantaneously. Kon lifts his head from the duvet to give him a slightly sheepish look over his shoulder, apologetic, before he drops his face back down with a thump.

"I'm tired," he mumbles. And he sounds like it. There isn't even a hint of a smile in his voice.

Tim crawls onto the bed next to him, rests his hand comfortingly at the small of his back. "What happened?"

Kon hisses out another sigh into the duvet. "Someone tried to—and don't get your knickers in a twist, I'm fine—but someone tried to dissect me today. Again."

Alarm jolts through Tim's whole body; his hands immediately start roaming Kon's torso, probing for wounds. "What?! Are you hurt—"

"I just said, I'm fine, Rob." Kon sounds a little wry as he rolls onto his back. "Jeez. What happened to your listening skills?"

He catches one of Tim's wrists and holds it to his chest, over his heart; Tim can see the sliver of an incision, cut right into the center of the S-shield emblazoned on his chest. He can't tell if it cut the skin beneath or not, but at least he doesn't see any blood.

The tiny smile on Kon's face fades, and Tim softens, studying him. Now that he can look properly, he can see the telltale signs that Kon cried, earlier; his cheeks are a little blotchy, his eyes slightly reddened. An eyelash is stuck to the delicate skin just below his eye.

"Some... ugh. They were some, like, Cadmus-wannabes. Total bozos, though. They had a red sun lamp, but no metagene suppressant, so." Kon shrugs, discontented. "They didn't even use the energy restraints like that time with Amanda Spence, like—c'mon, at least do your basic research if you're gonna try to vivisect a guy, right?" He snorts humorlessly. "I got out fine, took it down, called the S.C.U., it's whatever. I'm just... I'm so tired, Tim," and his voice cracks on Tim's name.

"Kon," he murmurs, leaning down. He presses their foreheads together, his chest aching. He'll have to check the news, find out from reports who exactly was behind this, because... it shouldn't matter, since it's already taken care of, but something inside him burns at the thought that anyone, anywhere, could put such a bone-deep sorrow into Kon's eyes.

"I'm so tired of people acting like I'm—like I'm not a person just 'cuz I hatched outta some stupid tube in a lab." Kon's eyes are too bright. He squeezes them shut and takes a shaky breath. "Like—what do I gotta do, y'know? How do you just—how do you even get through to people who're so convinced clones aren't people? I'm a person, too! I just... I..."

Tim very briefly debates the ethics of breaking into Stryker's just so he can hit someone with his staff. Or his car.

"I'm... really sorry you had to deal with that," he says instead, lamely. It's cold comfort, and awkward, and—

And it makes Kon laugh, watery but real. He blinks his teary-bright eyes up at Tim, brushes a gloved hand to his cheek. "You're mad as hell right now, aren't you?"

Tim smiles ruefully and presses his lips to Kon's jaw. "You caught me." Another kiss, to the corner of Kon's mouth. "I just—I hate that I can't do anything to fix this kinda thing for you. You don't deserve it."

"Mm." Kon takes a second to collect himself, swallows hard, and breathes out slowly. "You do more than you realize, I think. Can you just—can you just hold me? For a little while?"

Tim flops down on top of him immediately, wraps his arms around his head and neck, and smushes his face into Kon's hair. It would probably be more comfortable if they were side-by-side and facing each other, but the advantage of this position is that—

Kon laughs again, soft and fond. His voice is still a little thick, but he's smiling now. "Is that comfy for you...?"

"Kinda." Tim kisses his temple, too. "You smell like smoke."

"Mmf, sorry." Kon sighs again. "And I got it all over the bed now, too, huh..."

"S'okay. We can just grab a different blanket later." Tim scrunches his fingers through Kon's hair until they hit a tangle. "...Want me to wash your hair for you?"

Kon's arms tighten around him, and suddenly he seems like he needs a moment before he can respond. Tim doesn't rush him.

"Yeah," Kon croaks out after a moment, his voice suspiciously wet. "Yeah, Robbie. I'd like that a lot."

[cavalierzee]

This Is Gaza

“Israel will do everything it can to keep civilians out of harm’s way.” – President Joe Biden

“Israel will do everything it can to put civilians in harm’s way!”

Israeli Military Sopkesman: Pres. Joe Biden

That’s more accurate and realistic

[batbabydamian]

What’s ur idea of how Damian and Tim bond as siblings?

i like to think after the whole Gotham War fiasco, Damian would randomly hang out at Tim's boat - besides silent parallel play lol, they could bond over their vehicles! like, tinker on Tim's Robin Cycle and go over old Redbird blueprints. if Tim's visiting the brownstone, same thing with Damian's Robin Mobile!

otherwise, based on DC Pride 2023, the most i can see them bond would be during vigilante activities haha

they'd try to make the cleanup process less tedious through silly competitions 😆

[agentfascinateur]

Six-year-old Mohammed Naeem al-Najar has died of starvation at Kamal Adwan Hospital in northern Gaza.

[bixels]

Gunsmith cats being on your favourites makes sense.. Your art style feels like it. Do you take inspiration from it?

That's funny. I haven't taken particular stylistic inspiration from it. I like the action, I like the cars, I like the short story format. It definitely captures what I love about 90s OVAs, where budget and energy is spent primarily on simple but flashy/stylish scenes with fantastic depth and character animation.

[bnnywngs]

Anyone from civilian to cultivator, child to elderly, knew who Baoshan Sanren was. In one word, a legend. An immortal from a different era, still alive and still teaching to few her cultivation secrets - many envied and wished they were one of her students.

She had various children over the centuries, each with their own success and fame, but recently, although it is known three children were born, none came out telling others about their lineage - something that started to be common since other cultivators wanted to have immortality to themselves at all costs, hunting down the immortal's descendants to use them to their own gains.

They knew some of her disciples who came down her mountain - now a fixed location with better protection than any place on earth, rather than her nomad days. One of them was a woman who was known for her wits, intelligence, craft and beautiful smile - Cangse Sanren.

She was also infamous for her elopement with Yunmeng Jiang sect's former first disciple - Wei Changze.

This was common knowledge, every cultivator had heard this story at least once during their lives, they all knew the names and their connections to each other. But what Lan Wangji failed to connect was the fact that Wei Ying was their only son and is now his boyfriend (who he plans to marry one day).

He knew, objectively, about Wei Ying's parents, but had never met them until one day when they met them by fate during a date to the movies. It was very shocking and nerve-wracking to meet his in-laws so soon into their relationship and in such a casual way, with not even a gift to offer.

Not long after that, he was invited to dinners, then afternoon teas, then lunches and then breakfasts (he felt so honourable the first night he was allowed to sleep in Wei Ying's bedroom). Lan Wangji was, more and more, feeling part of the family, meaning that he was accepted as their beloved son's other half.

When he thought all the nervousness had passed, he was invited to a family gathering with their other relatives from Wei Ying's mother side, and that included Cangse Sanren's mother.

That same afternoon, after accepting the invite, Lan Wangji walked all the way to his brother's apartment (on the other side of the corridor), knocked, walked inside without saying anything, threw himself into Lan Xichen's bed and hugged one (of many, many) body pillows that was a permanent part of his brother's room (a secret from the rest of the family, beside their mother).

"Wangji?!" Lan Xichen was frantic with concern "What happened?"

"I'm going to meet Wei Ying's family."

"...Is it that bad?"

"Wei Ying's grandmother is Baoshan Sanren."

"...Oh."

Lan Xichen laid down beside his younger brother, hugging another body pillow, both staring at the ceiling with stunned expressions.

"Oh." Lan Xichen said again.

[n1ghteeea]

Since Back In The Saddle is the last ep in the EGB timeline and we never see them leave…

Bonus:

[onceuponaphannie]

okay so we really just don't give a fuck anymore, huh?