#but like tell me i'm wrong

[kanejbr3kker]

Does anyone else just sit and think about the fact that Six of Crows is literally the perfect book?

Like, we have a morally grey character who's actually morally grey and has a real reason to push people away other than "once I killed someone in self defense, so I'm a terrible person and we can't be together." And every other character has a super fleshed out backstory as well, including real world problems that don't usually get talked about in fantasy books.

There's just as heavy an emphasis on platonic love as romantic love, instead of "I can fix him", it's "he can fix himself", there's a gay couple that's actually happy and not suffering every five pages, and all of the gay characters have personality traits outside of the fact that they're gay.

And speaking of the romance, it's so not rushed or sexualized. No one even kisses in the first book, but it's still so obvious how much they love each other. Each couple has such a different dynamic, and the way their pasts mirror each other? Perfection. (I also firmly believe that Kanej is the best couple in all of YA prove me wrong)

And then the diversity??? 3/7 of the lead characters are POCs, 4/7 are queer, 3 have disabilities, 2 have addictions, 2 have PTSD, 2 are religious, one was raised in a cult, and it's not one of those books that has diverse characters just for the sake of being diverse!

The plot is so unique, especially among fantasy books, and despite the fact that there's so many moving parts, there is not a single plot hole. And the CK auction scene will forever be one of the best end of series climaxes I have ever read.

So basically I don't get why other authors even try anymore cause I'm sorry but no matter how great their books are, it's not going to be Six of Crows.

[arthur-lesters-pinky-finger]

RIP Arthur lester you would've loved Bo Burnham

[sandinthepipes]

You can lie to yourself, but I'll always know who you truly are

[artistic-cocoon]

Saw someone on twt say they wanted to see Percy drawn like Yusuf Dikec and I couldn't help myself

[littlefankingdom]

Bruce died(?) again

Jason: Well, it's my turn.

Dick: What are you talking about?

Jason: Everytime Bruce is gone, one of you starts to act just like him, pushing everyone away, acting as only you can be right, and fighting anyone that gets in your way. Dick did it, Tim did it, even Cass kind of did it. So, this time, I will do it.

Tim: Isn't that how you act all the time?

Jason: Whoa, fuck you. You are so banned from historical drama movie nights.

[mythicalcoolkid]

You don't wish your disability was worse or more visible, you wish your disability was taken seriously. Please stop confusing the two, I guarantee you would not get the support you need JUST by being more severe or more visible. Please listen to visibly disabled people when we tell you it isn't better on our side

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[obihoebikenobi]

Logan likes being called baby, or sweetheart, or darling.

All his life Logan has gone by different names. James Howlett, Wolverine, Logan, Weapon X. To some degree, all those names have their own meaning, but most of them don't exactly fit with the new life he's forged with Wade.

But sweetheart? It's soft, gentle, so goddamn personal. Wade whispers it in his ear in the morning while they lay in bed, thumbing over Logan's beard, looking at him with fondness written all over his face. Wade treats him like he's precious, something to be taken care of, something to be cherished.

Logan doesn't outwardly admit it, but Wade eventually catches on, and starts calling him baby almost exclusively. It doesn't matter who's around or where they are, Wade calls him baby in the X-mansion, on jobs, when his friends are over at the house.

And Logan should hate it, but he doesn't, because he belongs to Wade now, and every stupidly soft nickname makes this timeline feel more like home, more like he's found a place where he can be loved for something other than taking up the mantle of Wolverine or Logan.

He's just baby to Wade.

[were-wolverine]

things in DC canon i’ll literally never get over

1. dick finds out batman replaced him as robin (without asking him) from the NEWSPAPER and simultaneously finds out bruce adopted a new kid without telling him (to make things worse: bruce didn’t even adopt dick)

2. dick finds out jason died from the newspaper (AGAIN? REALLY BRUCE?) and bruce had the fucking funeral WITHOUT HIM while he was still in space

[hitorimaron]

leg brace

[lyricallyxo]

To me, it's Noah's face that says it all. There's such a genuine care and attentiveness on it--like this is all relevant to him. And yeah he had just been talking, but remember that Noah's gay. And he found strength in himself and his identity through Will. This is that look of pride that just solidifies in me that the story doesn't end with just Will. He knows this journey Mike's going on not because he's working on the show, but because he's lived it

[blackpensils]

I want someone to put Jason Todd, Danny Phantom and Percy Jackson in the same room.

They would either try to kill each other or they would conquer Olympus. There is literally no in-between.

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt#148 Part 2

Danny feels himself grow bright red and the two stare into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity. 

“I- Uh… I’m Danny” He finally managed to mutter. 

“Damian Wayne, its a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Danny's blush grew even brighter as the next moment Damian kissed his hand, Danny couldn’t help but feel flustered. 

After a moment  Danny rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and stuttered out, “It’s nice, to meet you too” He could tell how happy Damian was to meet him and he felt a little bad for feeling nervous in the first place. Danny thought Damian was cute and he decided then that he wouldn’t mind getting to know him a little better. First they had to get through the rest of the gala, and soon as he thought about the gala something clicked. 

He realized Damian was the son of Bruce Wayne who at the moment was talking to his own parents. He couldn’t help but stare as he let the information sink in. 

“Ah yes it looks like Father is talking to some of the scientists that were invited.” Ancients, Danny knew his parents couldn’t help being themselves and unfortunately that meant things like accidentally spilling fudge right onto Mr. Wayne's suite. They watched as Mr. Wayne told his parents it wasn’t a problem and then walked out of the room. 

Danny couldn’t help but sigh, “Sorry about them, my parents are a little eccentric. Don’t even get me started on their obsession with ghosts, my dad will not shut up sometimes.” Danny rubbed the back of his neck nervously again as he realized he was rambling a little bit. 

“Don’t worry it looks like Father handled the situation well, although I am curious what kind of inventions two scientists obsessed with ghosts create. That’s what this gala is about, we want to support scientists in untapped fields of study.” Danny listened as his soulmate explained things to him. 

Danny looked over to see Vlad talking to a thin scientist in the corner of the room. He was definitely up to something, a ball like this had Vlad scheming something with a mad scientist written all over it. 

He was brought out from his thoughts as a loud crash could be heard as the wall across the room burst open and none other than the Joker walked through.

Danny tried to make his way to the other side of the gala, strangely Damian had disappeared but Danny didn’t have the time to look for him.  

However when he got to the door staying low to the ground the door burst through and more of Joker's goons looked straight at him and he found himself tied up right in front of the Joker. 

“What do we have here? A new Wayne?” Joker said as he cupped Danny's face in his hand. Danny couldn’t do anything about the situation and he was getting a little scared considering he didn’t have a proper way to go ghost or protect his soulmate at the moment. 

The Joker circled around the tied up hostages laughing, “Of course now the fun begins”

The Joker continued to circle around the hostages thinking for a moment before he grabbed Danny.

He held Danny by the back of the shirt like a small kitten. His obsession was making him wonder if his soulmate was safe living in Gotham. Joker chuckled as he continued to hold Danny.

“This kid will be an example for the rest of you, I don’t want any outbursts like that again, especially when Batman gets here. Do you think Batman will like what I’ve done with the place?” He asked as he gestured around the ruined room. All of the tables and chairs had either been broken or knocked over and all of the food from the dessert and appetizer tables. It was quite the mess. Before Joker could do much else with the teen he had dangling in his grasp something flew out and smacked Joker right in the back of the head causing him to drop Danny.

Danny took that opportunity to get away, his hands may have been tied but his feet were sure free. He stumbled away as Batman dropped down and a fight between him and the Joker commenced. 

Danny ran towards the door and as he got there Robin and Nightwing were there ushering some of the other hostages out of the room. 

“Right this way citizens!” Nightwing said brightly at them but he seemed to brighten up a bit more when he saw Danny weirdly. 

“Have either of you seen Damian Wayne?” Danny asked, he at least wanted to get his number, especially when he was headed back to Amity soon.

They seemed to share a look before looking back at him, “Damian left, he’s headed safely back to Wayne manor.” Robin said but he held out a piece of paper. On it was Damians signature and his phone number. Danny sighed a little annoyed he had left but he guessed it was common to head back home after a rogue attack in Gotham. 

“Danny!!” the booming voice of Jack Fenton was suddenly heard and Danny felt himself getting pulled into a very familiar bear hug. 

“Did you have fun at the gala? Your father and I saw you talking to Mr. Wayne's son,” His mother said after his feet were back on the ground. 

“Yeah, actually can we talk about that after we’re back in our room?” He wanted to tell his parents he found his soulmate but saying that outloud when Damian was the son of Bruce Wayne sounded like a bad idea. 

They headed back to the hotel room and all Danny could think about was how lucky he was to have met his soulmate tonight, even if he was nervous about everything.

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[charlie-rulerofhell]

Pick up the pace, pack up the gear Gimme some face, a souvenir Here come the gays, here comes the fear Now we're having fun

[vcrnons]

WE ARE LIKE FLOWERS THAT BLOOM IN MAY. RAINDROP ON ME, ON ME.

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

not enough discussion about the gavins' complicated relationship with feminine-coded/beauty products, i don't think.