#because it's what i've known????

[it-s-gone-blue]

Happy new year, everyone

It's generally good, I think, to have some kind of mental 'start' point to focus your energy into the changes you want to make in your life.

[yawnderu]

CW: mentions of kidnapping and stolen body autonomy.

Find a way in, kill the enemy, retrieve the hostages, leave. A routine of sorts that gave his life some sense of purpose to avoid going insane for the past two decades. Simon liked to believe he got over what happened in his past... truly, he did; and yet Manuel Roba’s horrors seem to haunt him no matter where how many years pass.

“C’mere.��� Simon’s voice held no hostility, he made sure of it, yet your stiff position never changed. Legs angled to the right, hands folded on your lap, and eyes looking forward, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze even if it’s been hours since your rescue. Garrick, Price and Johnny have already tried to get you to talk multiple times, all of them with different approaches. 

Garrick was friendly, trying his best to seem approachable, a bright smile on his lips that you didn’t seem to notice, too busy staring at a wall no matter how much he tried to hold a conversation.

Price seemed fatherly, never once laying a hand on you even if it was itching to comfort you, and so he settled with telling you you’re safe now, how no one will ever get you again now that they're here. His words didn’t seem to do much, either. 

Johnny was… something else. His first attempt was a shitty pick up line, getting a reaction out of you for the first time— a nose scrunched up in disgust, but a reaction nonetheless.  

And Simon… Simon’s approach was different. The man was used to barking out orders and obeying them himself, not to deal with an unresponsive hostage. His behemoth frame was nestled next to you, putting a tray on the table and observing your reactions. From the way you swallowed thickly the moment the meal was presented to you, to the sound of your stomach growling. 

“Go on, then.” Your gaze follows his movements for the first time, the feeling of your stomach rumbling makes you more aware of your hunger, so many years being fed nothing but what was necessary to keep you alive by Manuel and his associates, so many years of being trained like a dog to obey to their very order. 

Simon can see the hesitation in your body language, too tense to allow yourself to dig in the way you wanted, yet no longer as stiff as before. There was a sense of relief at the fact that they didn’t seem to want to hurt you —unlike Roba—, yet years of non-stop brutal training can’t be erased within hours.

Roba’s training was engraved into your brain, and while the sense of security the SAS blokes gave you is something you’re thankful for, nothing guarantees they’re not working for him. You’ve seen other military men come and go throughout the years, always Roba’s friends, and always sharing the same disgusting, sadistic desires.

“Eat up.” The rest of the men watch the way you move, curiosity and amusement mixing at how strange your movements seem, almost robotic. Your forearms rest on the table, elbows away from the cheap wood as you attempt to hold your own cutlery— attempt, because it looks fully foreign to you, trying out different angles to make it work, and yet it's the first time in years you've been allowed to try and feed yourself.

Simon is the first one to catch on, having lived under Roba’s rules for long enough to know he enjoys taking people’s autonomy, to reduce them to nothing but a pathetic mess that depends on him. His gloved fingers are gentle as he takes the spoon from your hand, scooping up some food before holding it up to your lips. His full attention is on you, relief starting to make its way into his body as sees your rather soft lips wrap around the spoon, eating whatever he was feeding you. Lucky for you, this time it wasn’t an MRE… or beans on toast.

His gloved thumb wipes the corners of your lips every time you’re done chewing, and he’s quick to pick up more food from the plate, nothing but patience and kindness shown in his actions, so unlike the brooding soldier he's known to be.

“... two goldfish are in a tank…?” Johnny’s loud groan gets your attention for a second, yet you quickly glance back at Simon, curious eyes looking up at him, almost as if asking him to go on. 

“One turns to the other and says… ‘you know how to drive this thing?’” You can see the corners of his eyes crinkle before he even finishes his joke, clearly trying his best not to laugh at just how awful it was. A small smile hides in the corners of your lips, and Simon takes that as a victory, ignoring the questioning looks he’s getting from his team, for now.

[kettlefire]

As Good as Good Gets (DP X DC Snippet)

Richard "Dick" Grayson is the golden child. In the eyes of the public, and in the eyes of the league. Dick is a sweet, caring son, a man who went from being a sidekick to being a hero. The pipeline from Robin to Nightwing had many people applauding his dedication to keeping Gotham safe.

No one knew the full story, not truly. No one but Bruce Wayne himself. And maybe a certain butler. Many don't know that Dick only became Robin to stop him from hunting down and killing the man who killed his parents.

No one really knows about the harsh fights and arguments he has had with Bruce. The times when Dick would find himself cut off from the Wayne name for a week or so. No one knows that the first person Dick warmed up to was Alfred. Having been bribed with cookies.

Things weren't always this good, trusting, happy relationship between Bruce and Dick. It had been a rough ride, a complicated one. But that was okay, because it got better.

Dick stopped being so moody and angsty. He grew up, he learned, and he changed. He became an older brother, found people that needed him. Needed him in a way that the citizens of Gotham didn't need him.

His brothers like to call him annoying. A goody two shoes who Bruce trusted more than everyone else. They couldn't fathom how someone like Dick could be so stupid and bubbly at all times.

All times, except when shit hits the fans. Despite the name calling, despite coining Dick as the stupid Wayne. They all knew better. They knew that when it mattered, Dick Grayson always pulled through. He was a force to be reckoned with when needed.

The whole Wayne family was a force to be reckoned with when called for. It didn't have to be under the guise of costumes and vigilante acts. Whether he was Officer Grayson or Nightwing, Dick was a man with his morals and values.

One night on patrol as Officer Grayson, Dick found someone who needed that force. A force willing to protect and care for the innocent. The hurt. The damaged, yet still good.

It started like any other night. A call of shots fired by an empty warehouse. There was no sighting or knowledge of any rouges being there, so Dick took the call. Told the team he'll contact them if it seems more than just a civilian incident.

The warehouse was dark, reeked of copper and oil. It didn't take long for Dick to find the trail. The liquid he found looked like the person had been dragged before walking. There was a clear struggle, even with the mess and emptiness that was the warehouse.

That wasn't Dick's biggest concern. The concern lay in just how much blood there was. Too much for any normal person to lose and still manage to stumble through the warehouse.

It wasn't just blood. It wasn't that much, but Dick could spot the strangeness in the liquid. The mixed in green that had an eerily similar color and glow as a certain pit.

Without thinking, Dick followed the trail. Barely remembering to make contact with his family. Give them an update on what he found. Words telling him to stay put for backup went in one ear and out the other.

Something in Dick's gut was telling him he couldn't wait. He needed to find the source. Whoever was currently bleeding out in this warehouse. He silenced the comm, moving further through the dimly lit building.

Then Dick found it. Or more so, he found him. It was just a boy. A boy that reminded Dick too much of the youngest Wayne. A boy sat against a wall, looking pale and weak.

Red and green coated the front of the boy's shirt, arms wrapped tightly around his middle. An attempt to stem the bleeding. A puddle had already started to form beneath the boy, and Dick moved without thinking once again.

He quickly found himself kneeling beside the boy, hands carefully reaching out. Before Dick even touched him, the boy flinched. Eyelids suddenly opened, wide and terrified blue eyes landed on Dick's.

In just that one look, Dick knew what he had to do. The haunting, terrified, and pained look in the boy's eyes told Dick everything he needed to know. The boy was in danger. Someone had hurt this kid, and it was clear it wasn't the first time.

The boy struggled weakly against Dick's touch, terrified whimpers, and barely coherent pleas spilled from the kid's lips. It had Dick's heart aching, clear as day the poor kid has been through hell and back.

It took a lot of reassurance, gentle touches, and promises of help before the kid let Dick take a look at the bleeding wound. A promise on Dick's soul had been the final thing that earned him any semblance of trust. A strange promise, but Dick was willing to make it.

That concern turned to pure anger the moment Dick managed to pull the sticky shirt away from the wound. The sight of a Y-incision cut perfectly into the skin, stitches tight on the skin, but blood still leaking heavily from the wound.

It didn't take long for Dick to realize why. Despite the perfect surgical care of the wound, a good couple of stitches had broken. Leaving gaping spots for that red and green liquid to pour out of.

The boy was deathly silent, tears streaking down his cheek as wide blue eyes stayed trained on Dick. In that moment, Dick knew he had to help. Had to get the kid to safety, patch him up, and find out what kind of monster would do this.

It didn't matter if the kid was human or not. It didn't matter if the kid had special abilities or not. No one, absolutely no one, deserved to be vivisected.

The kid was shrouded in mystery, but that mystery only seemed to grow and become clearer when Bruce had entered the scene. The boy had tensed, eyes flashing a bright glowing green.

Lazarus pit green.

It set a pit of dread in Dick's gut. His mind brings forward memories of Jason. Jason, after his revival, after his dip in that cursed pit. The same flash that his brother would get if he got too angry. Too emotional.

As much as Dick wanted to focus on finding who did this, if it had any connection to Ra's al Ghul. He couldn't. Not when the kid tried to get up, to pull away as Bruce and the others made their way closer.

Right now, Dick only cared about making sure the boy was okay. Fixing those stitches, getting him a meal, and a warm bed.

He needed to get this kid someplace where he felt safe and secure. Comfortable and protected. Dick wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the promise he had made, but he wasn't letting anyone get to the kid.

That included his family. As strange as it seemed, Dick put himself between the others and the kid. Shooting them all a glare that they had only ever seen a handful of times.

Dick lifted the poor boy up in his arms, cradling the crying child close as he led the way out of the warehouse. Ignoring the questions or confusion coming from Bruce and the others. As Dick walked, feeling the trembling boy clinging to him, he made a rather obvious realization.

Maybe the eldest son really was more like Bruce than he expected. Just a few short moments the the boy, a boy that Dick didn't know his name, and he was ready to pull out adoption papers. To give the boy a safety he so desperately needs.

Give him the chance that Bruce had given him all those years ago.

[froganni]

I drew over a page from Ryoko Kui's Dungeon Meshi for this bit. (Disclaimer: this is not my original art.)

I just felt like this has been Joel's vibes recently. 😂

[bumblingbabooshka]

Section 31 is so lame. Like, I can just tell with every word they say that they think they're SO cool and the writers think they're so cool but they're so smug and laaaame I am rolling my eeeyeees

[eugeniedanglars]

when true love’s kiss fails. when it doesn’t mean anything. when it means everything but it’s too late anyway. when it’s not enough. when it can’t change what you've already set in motion. i forgive you. don't bother. neil gaiman i am in your WALLS

[navree]

Incorrect, the fact that Biden has dropped out and a candidate with history of supporting medicare for all and being more receptive to a ceasefire in the I/P conflict has made me go from "I cannot morally support the Democratic nominee" to "I am voting for the Democratic nominee despite the fact she isn't perfect in every respect." I'm really happy this played out. The Dems for the most part abandoned the old Obama platform and it feels like its possible an actual progressive agenda could come to pass in my lifetime.

Kamala 2024!

If you weren't going to vote Democratic in this election before Biden dropped out you're a dorkass loser who does not care about any of the issues you're yammering about here and also a fundamentally bad person, and I hope you get run over by a bus.

But you got one thing right in all of this gibberish, Kamala 2024.

[bookshelf-in-progress]

The trick to writing a good story is to make sure it has at least one element that people like so much that they don't care if other elements are imperfect.

People are drawn to stories with stuff they like; they're going to like flawed stories that have those things more than they're going to like perfect stories that don't have those things. I personally love certain authors because of one thing they do well--I go to this one for character, and this one for intricate plot, and this one for immersive worldbuilding, etc.--and get confused when people complain about the other elements not being done well because that's not what I'm reading for. If one element is really well-done, I will forgive a million other storytelling sins that would make me tear apart a book I liked less. If I can give that grace to other authors, I can trust other readers to give me that same grace, if they like my stories well enough to keep reading them.

[jesuis-assez]

↠ Tim & Lucy ↳ 2x10 - The Dark Side

[musical-chick-13]

This is the only thing I'm going to say about the election until it's over:

Anyone who did not vote for Harris or who attempted to dissuade people from voting for Harris, you are indirectly responsible for whatever shit Donald Trump does if he gets elected. That blood is primarily on his hands, yes. But it is also on yours. I hope you can live with that because I sure as hell wouldn't be able to.

[starkrebellion]

I hate myself so naturally I'm still trying to convince myself that there is a way for Robby to win the Sekai Taikai and to actually see him and Tory on that podium together

[foxaoxarts]

BEE KISS TOMORR- *dead* /j

If anyone wants to watch me drawing this like a little victorian child then the timelapse is below the cut 🤣

(FLICKER WARNING. It's all through out so be careful!👍 )

[greenerteacups]

Fair warning: I don't think this is going to be a question, just a few post-latest chapter thoughts haphazardly stacked together under a trenchcoat.

Thank you for this chapter. It made my day to read something almost fluffy (I don't think anything in LH can be called purely fluff, and that's a good thing because fluff is best when it is padding for the plot, and that's what this chapter was).

LH Book 5 has been the beginning of payoff for the Dramione slow burn, and while that is immensely satisfying, it also means there are less milestones to look forward to. I don't know if this was an intentional decision, but I love how you started seeding in another slow burn that has kept us equally invested: the Black family drama.

I love reading anything that does the dysfunctional family dynamic well, and seeing Draco getting old enough to identify it clearly, have questions, testing his boundaries, fighting back against what he's been told to accept, has all been immensely satisfying as someone who has gone through this myself. Your depiction of the Black family dynamics has been /chef's kiss/. * spoiler for chapter 70 * when Draco witnesses his cousins casually throwing information his way, what I wanted was for one of the adults to see how much he needed that information, that connection, and give it to him. My god ❤️ You have written a lonely boy craving family so well.

Back to the Dramione of it all (and this might be a question), I love how Harry chose to approach the contained chaos waiting to unravel around him and just bluntly told Draco what he did. Question: do you think this is something Canon Harry would have done in this instance? Was there a choice to change anything in your characterisation of Harry (with respect to Canon) that resulted in this wonderful, blunt, more-mature-than-many-adults-who-can't-even-identify-their-needs version of Harry?

If not, what canon Harry actions/traits do you think would point to him acting this way?

Thank you! This is a beautiful and very kind trench coat, and I am luxuriating in it.

I will answer your question while continuing to luxuriate: I don't think canon Harry would ever confront his friends about an emotional problem, mostly because because he never does. Hermione and Ron, the two people he's most comfortable with in the world, are feuding for most of HBP, and while he does have a few "can't you guys just get along?" type-outbursts, he doesn't really sit down and ask "hey, what's going on with you? How can I help?" because canon!Harry is, as you might expect for a 15-year-old boy, better at ignoring his problems than solving them. (I also think there's an ingredient of conflict-avoidance in there from his upbringing with the Dursleys, but I'll be the first to admit that's mostly headcanon.)

My Harry is a bit softer — in part because that's just how I prefer my Harry, my favorite scenes with him are those where he's showing tenderness for things other people have neglected. This is the best of him, and this is the core of him, in my opinion. Canon Harry has this marvelous capacity for empathy, and when he chooses to use it, it's kind of astonishing how capable he is of resisting prejudice and caring for people. He's fiercely loyal in defending Hagrid, always. He makes a point of freeing Dobby, who's just spent a book trying to maim him. He refuses to let Sirius kill Pettigrew, even knowing that Pettigrew betrayed his parents ("My dad wouldn't want you to" — sweet boy, you mean you don't want them to, and you understand on some level that's the only thing you can say that will stop them.) He saves Gabrielle Delacour, because even if she would have been safe in the end, he's not leaving a little girl at the bottom of a fucking lake. He reads the Half-Blood Prince's handwriting — Snape's handwriting — and thinks: "I bet he's someone like me." On the basis of handwriting, he empathizes with this person! Harry is constantly trying to save people, and he doesn't ever really tell us why. And we'll never know why canon!Harry does that, consciously or subconsciously, but I have to imagine that every time Harry looks at someone in pain, he sees a lonely kid stuck under a staircase, and he thinks not fucking today.

[lovesodeepandwideandwell]

No matter where I am living or what job I have, I will get to watch new seasons of The Bear and The Artful Dodger

[chiscribbs]

Varigo?

Nah, friend. I never got into Varian and the Seven Kingdoms, sorry.

(Plus, I'm a long-time Cassarian shipper, so it doesn't appeal to me anyway.)

[daughterofhecata]

Tfw you're reading something completely unrelated and suddenly get hit over the head by a Fandom Realization.