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Creative & DIY

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I just had the brain spark idea for ANGST with Peter in Gotham with Jason as Uncle Ben. What if it is when he is still mad with anger from the Lazaraus Puts, and Peter's first meeting with him is when he is in the middle of one of his homicidal rages?

Like, Jason is back with the Batfam, and he is on the good guy side, but it's before he has reached a balance on his anger, and he still struggles to control the pit madness. And the first time Peter sees him and recognizes his face, Jason is momentarily going crazy?

Ooooo wait this is such a good idea!!

Imagine Peter, whose uncle has only been dead for 2-3 years at this point, seeing a man who has his uncles face repeatedly punching an unconscious man? The city's vigilantes are trying to pry him off, distract him from turning that poor guys face into a mushy pool of broken bones and blood.

Some are trying to comfort him, for some reason, while others say... less than polite things. The blue one electrocutes him, his not-uncle, successfully, which only serves to move his focus from the bloodied body to the vigilante. Which, well, was the point, but it feels wrong seeing his not-uncle be electrocuted repeatedly and beaten with a bo staff.

Batman even shows up to restrain him, his uncle had always been larger than life, in the metaphorical and physical sense. Peter's uncle was a gentle man, and the only time he ever used his size was when he was out on duty, to save people's lives.

His eyes glowed a neon green, and his weirdly youthful face was framed by premature white hair. His nose was busted and bleeding, staining his teeth. It made Peter nauseous. The last time his uncle had been covered in blood, he...

"Stop it! What are you doing to him?!" Peter screamed, finally finding the strength to leave his hiding spot behind a dumpster.

He stared. What else could he do?

He hadn't been in this universe long, hadn't found any signs of the Parkers ever even existing here. How could he be so stupid? Of course they could've existed with different names— his dad and uncle had been adopted. They probably have completely different families and last names because Peter... doesn't exist here. They're alive because Peter doesn't exist here.

The blue one, Nightwing, stepped forward. "Hey, this is no place for a kid, alright? We've got this handled." He took the tone Peter often took with scared civilians as Spider-man.

"No, you're— you're hurting him! Stop it!" Peter moved to get closer to his uncle, but was held back gently by Nightwing.

"Get the kid out of here, now!" Batman snapped, struggling to hold down his uncle.

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I am becoming aware of the effect a lack of trust in the media has had on people, paired with a dearth of research skills.

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I feel like such a shit person but I’m really bad at communicating, ESPECIALLY TEXTING maybe it’s due to me being over talked a lot so I just don’t share anything really unless asked, but idk I feel like I’ve gotta talk to someone about that. This can’t be normal, I’ve not texted people back for weeks and I feel bad about it but I feel like if I text back so late that they will be angry with me. Anywho is there a word for this? Maybe 🤔

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Reblog to give prev a fucking break holy shit y’all

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A boy can dream, can't he?

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Reblog if you want a bunch of “have you evers” and “would you rathers” in your ask box right now.

Please

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ao3 turns 15 today

reblog if youre older than ao3

(there's a lot of people asking about this, but the legal age to use social media is 13, except in few countries. so yes, there are people here under 15)

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Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.

On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.

Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.

The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

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i dropped by my favourite secondhand bookstore and found what is possibly the most incredible knitting book iver ever seen. that teaches you how to knit little gardens and sew them into a massive quilt 3d. the photos i took are atrocious and do NOT do this book justice

thats a PRIORY GARDEN WITH MONKS

IT EVEN TEACHES YOU HOW TO MAKE ALL THE TOOLS ABD BASKETS AND POTS AND PLANTS

LOOK AT THE SOME OF THE FOLIAGE

i have never been more upset to not have $30 ready to buy this. its incredible. i have to find it online somewhere. i knew the moment i saw this i had to share it with EVERYONE

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if you’re having a bad day, here’s a cute little marching band

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Reblog for a miracle to happen tonight

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Batman #54

Bruce comforting Dick vs…

Dick comforting Bruce

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Are you frustrated you can't leave second kudos on AO3? or third kudos? or whatever-who's-counting kudos?

Well, have I got the html for you!

Plop any of these in a comment (by copy&pasting the code) to make an author's day and show your appreciation!

Second kudos: <img src="https://i.ibb.co/tHMjbb6/second-kudos.png" alt="second kudos">

Third kudos: <img src="https://i.ibb.co/52bggQH/third-kudos.png" alt="third kudos">

nth kudos: <img src="https://i.ibb.co/6y7qGtC/nth-kudos.png" alt="nth kudos">

yet another kudos: <img src="https://i.ibb.co/wKtcj0s/yet-another-kudos.png" alt="yet another kudos">

It will look something like this (and will be transparent with white outline on dark backgrounds):

Feel free to spread and use these as much as you like! (and if you have ideas for other variations, let me know ✌️)

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Billy snapping back that Wanda isn't his mom - William's still in there somewhere, isn't he?

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this probably isn't unique but I read wlw as sounding like Walawa and mlm as Malama and that will stay between me, God, and Tumblr