#could absolutely not be me

[delaneytveit]

y’all i cant. i just saw a post that rhysand hiding the pregnancy complications is better than “tamlin beating feyre nearly to death”

i-

HUH?????

they MUST be confusing acotar with one of their dark stalker romances or something i swear GAWD.

[rigginsstreet]

its the way that in the show That Man was leading a whole ass group of kids ... who were looking for a place to belong and here you go lets all wear matching shirts lets all follow my rules lets remember whose in charge here! while That Man goes off on some stupid ass fucking tangent on some cafeteria tables where innocent bystanders are trying to enjoy a meal, talking down to jocks and popular kids cuz they conform or whatever idk i didnt watch it

bUT THEN ON TOP OF IT!!!! you have marketing pushing this same agenda onto the fandom. getting everyone to buy these same shirts and fall at the feet of That Man

and then all these fans wanna act like theyre above conformity theyre free thinkers theyre weirdos nobody gets them they dont belong

you sure about that? you sure youre so individualistic? you wanna run that one around again

[figofswords]

Dungeon food. Ahhhh, dungeon food!

[bruciemilf]

Batman isn’t a mask; It’s a leash. In this essay I will—

[secondbeatsongs]

for anyone too young to know this: watching The Truman Show is a vastly different experience now, compared to how it was before youtube and social media influencers became normal

before it was like, "what a horrifying thing to do to a human being! to take away their autonomy and privacy, all for the sake of profits! to create fake scenarios for them to react to, just to retain viewership! to ruin their happiness just so some corporate entity could harvest money from their very humanity! how could anyone do something so evil?"

and now it's like, "ah, yeah. this is still deeply fucked up, but it's pretty much what every influencer has been doing to their kids for a decade now. probably bad that we've normalized this experience"

[faeriekit]

"Okay." Danny slowly laid the already cold body back onto the table, ready to slide back it into the refuge of cold storage. "Okay. Dead guy. Stay there."

The body didn't move.

"Fantastic. Now. Hang out while I pour the embalming fluid into the pump, alright? It should only be a minute."

And it usually did; working in a funeral home wasn't extremely glamorous, but it paid the bills, and Danny had already been used to the rhyme and rhythm of negotiating death with the public by the time he sent in his mortuary school application. It had been a transition that made sense. And in the end, the degree had only cost him a few extra years post-graduation and a little dig into student loans, and now Danny had a stable 12-8 job and health insurance valid in the state of new jersey.

Today, though, the pump had that decided enough was enough. With a bang and a boom, the pump spat out a cloud of smoke and clunked uncomfortably.

The dead body sat up.

Danny scrambled over to push it back down. "No. We talked about this. Dead people don't move. If you want to stay here and have me put you back together all the time, you have to stay put. Got it?"

Whatever the weird gold-eye corpses were on in Gotham, they at least listened to him on occasion. They weren't ghosts, per se— they never pinged on any of the ghost detection devices Mom and Dad had packed in his going-away-to-college bag— but they were, despite being occasionally animate, perfectly deceased.

Weird. Danny had never gotten used to it. Still, they came in droves, too eager to sit on the top of the basement stairwell and lurk in the corners and stare endlessly at them with their weird, avian eyes, and sometimes they heralded the arrival similarly weird-ass bodies that had lost their heads or their arms or their limbs through the more conventional channels.

"I'm losing too much thread to all y'all coming in all the time," Danny complained to the dead body, who, at the moment, was the only person present to blame. "Stop getting your limbs cut off. This stuff is expensive, you know. It's a specialty order."

The body didn't even have the courtesy to blink. Rude.

"At least let them bury you this time. Every time one of you darts off when my back's turned, my boss thinks I'm stealing corpses. My coworkers think I'm building my own Frankenstein or something."

The corpse neither verbalized nor blinked, but Danny hadn't expected it to; with a sigh, he rolled the corpse back into cold storage, locked its little door (not that locking it in had ever stopped it) and called it quits for the night.

It's not like anyone was paying him for the extra hours anyway.

The whole fic on ao3

[fantastic-nonsense]

the funniest parallel between Tim and Damian that no one ever talks about is how they're both the epitome of "I know a guy" because they keep managing to pick up random friends wherever they go

[o0kawaii0o]

"Oh farmer! Good morning!"

[egophiliac]

bring your son to work day

[morganmnemonic]

I can't stop thinking about the relationship between Jon and Helen as perhaps one of the most important ones in the entire show. They are narrative parallels for each other, and they both know it. They've both known it from the very start!

Helen walks into the Archives, paranoid, unsure of who to trust, and Jon sees himself in her. And he thinks "If i can help her, maybe there's hope for me too." Then he can't save her. The next time they meet, she's a monster. They're both monsters. There was never any other way their stories could have gone, their fates entwined from the very start.

And Helen answers his original thought with one of her own: "Maybe if we can help each other, there's hope for us both." But Jon looks at her and sees everything that he fears becoming, and so he turns her away, and refuses to accept that their stories are still one and the same.

Helen went to the last person who was ever kind to her, the only person who both knew her as a human and had the context to understand what she'd become, and he hated her. He hated her because he liked Helen, and told her that she couldn't be Helen.

So she stopped trying to be Helen, and embraced being a monster. Reveled in it even. Then Jon wakes up from a six month coma, more monster than person, and tries so hard to cling to the things that mattered to him when he was human. Even with no support, even with the entire archives staff against him, he chooses humanity and compassion over and over again.

And this is a direct threat to Helen's world view. Their stories are entwined. If Jon can continue to be a person even after everything he's been through, then she could have clung to her humanity too, if only she'd tried a little harder. And that terrifies her! She wants to conceptualize herself as someone who was completely overwhelmed by forces beyond her control, who never had a choice but to become a monster. She want's to be an innocent victim. But Jon argues with his actions that they'd both had choices.

And, Jon, in turn, holds out hope that she might make better choices until the very end.

This is the conflict between them for all of season 4 and 5. Jon wants to prove that they can both be decent people, and Helen wants to prove that they were never going to be anything but monsters. This is why she's so devoted to trying to goad Jon into enjoying his newfound godhood. She knows that they are the same, and wants that to mean that he has a spark of evil inside of him, and not that she was always capable of doing good.

When Jon kills her, she loses her life, but wins the argument. Helen is nothing but a dangerous monster who needs to be killed for the good of everyone, and in the moment he decides that, Jon dooms himself to the same fate. Their stories are one and the same. "If i can help her, maybe there's hope for me too." he thought. But he couldn't help her, refused to, even, in the one moment when it actually mattered. And thus, there was never hope for him.

[welcometogrouchland]

[ID in ALT] I've made posts before about Talia/Dick co-parenting Damian moments (will never happen but let me dream) and this came to me in a vision. Took me ages to finish for some reason 😭 and then even longer to post

[catgrandpa]

I need a fic where Bruce realizes this kid who shoved his way into his sidekick roll will not be leaving anytime soon, and instead of emotionally distancing himself he becomes a combination Helicopter Mom and Shotgun Dad.

☆彡

Tim: Bruce, I’m headed out to meet my friends at the mall.

Bruce: Is that Kent boy going to be there?

Tim, rolling his eyes: Yes, Kon is going. And so is Bart, and Cassie, and maybe Bernard if he can make it.

Bruce: Hnn. Do you have everything? Coat, scarf, keys, wallet, tracker, pepper spray, dagger, kryptonite shard, emergency beacon, first aid kit, fire starter, extra pair of-

Tim: Yes, Dad! I already went through the list with Alfred. I’ll be fine.

☆彡

Kon: Hello Sir! I’m here to pick up Tim!

Bruce: Follow me.

…

Bruce: Sit down.

Kon: In your study? Is Tim on the way, or…?

Bruce: I just thought you might need reminding of the fact that I have a vault downstairs full of items specifically designed to take down a Kryptonian.

Kon: Whuh?

Bruce: You should probably ask your father about the time I was slightly annoyed with him for encroaching on one of my cases.

Kon: Why are you telling me this?

Bruce: Now just imagine what would happen if someone were to hurt my darling little boy.

*door opens*

Tim: Hey Bruce, Alfie said Kon was here, have you seen him? Oh! Hey, why are you two in here??

Bruce: Oh, hey sweetheart, we were just chatting. Have a good time at the carnival!

☆彡

Dick, pouting: I don’t understand, you’re not this protective over who Jason or I date.

Bruce: Don’t be ridiculous, Jason and I may have our problems, but he would never betray me by gallivanting off with someone I disapprove of.

Dick, who covered for Jay sneaking out to visit Roy Harper just last night: Mhm yeah, sure. And you’re not worried about me?

Bruce: Chum, I’ve known who you were going to marry since you were 12 years old.

Dick: WHAT?

Bruce: I have the whole ceremony already planned. I’ve got Gotham’s best wedding planner on standby. You have a very nice house waiting for you both, 20 minutes from here. A modest 7 bedrooms on 5 acres of land.

Dick: I’m not even dating anyone?!

Bruce: I can’t wait to meet my 3 grandbabies:)

[purplepenguintime]

Thank you for finally giving them a happy ending 

[salty-fryingpan]

Celebrity Derek Hale being incredibly private and having absolutely no internet presence of his own just casually goes "Oh yeah my Fiancé-" on a talk show and the world fucking explodes looking for this super secret relationship with any famous woman he's ever interacted with and then they never figure it out cuz it's just some dude

[skyrigel]

Simon had him and you all convinced that it was just sex and nothing more.

“No attachment.” He always said, everytime — sometimes so hurried and forgotten that it's just mumbled against your mouth before he's shoving his tongue down your throat.

Sometimes with so much urgency that it's lost between your moans, no attachment, babe, no attachment. And you believed him because it was really just sex, wasn't it ? There were no pretty dates and no fancy dinner at ritz, maybe those poorly wrapped ones he pretended he had not ordered and takeouts he brought along...but oh please, no attachments!

But maybe sometimes about those walks in the city where he would not so subtly grasp your hand, and you would catch him stealing glances at you while a teenager fiddled with his guitar, rhyming she came, my world lit with narcotic, I am addict.

No attachment but Simon's standing outside your workspace when it's raining —“I thought you might need it.” holding up the umbrella but those two words were there again when you were knee deep in the passanger seat and he was eating you out... because it was casual, right ? No attachment.

And it really didn't burn and ached until you got sick, real sick — puking your guts out and coughing until your ribs gave up, surely he wasn't the best role model of no attachment when he was panting to death as he picked your unconscious frame from the floor, you still remember the faint whisper of his ‘please don't leave me, please, please don't —’ over and over.

And if he wanted for no attachment then he should be gone. Gone and not come back because it was just sex...

Simon shouldn't be mopping the floor, and stirring your soup and touching your forehead every five minutes.

No attachment then why he's loading your grocery and taking out trash and doing your laundry, why he's wiping your tears and telling you it's going to be alright.

Why he's not leaving like he always did because there were no attachment right, but he's right here, tucking you in bed and washing your hair and reading you book.

“Is it some eccentric joke ? Why this Zaid is always growling ?—also when you get alright... we're gonna try it out, lovie.”

You blushed, but it wasn't just what he was suggesting but that word, it felt good.

“S-say it again.” You whispered, shifting your head in pillow. Simon turned back a page he was reading from, your scrunchie on his wrist.

“Zaid growled—” You screwed your face,“—oh, we'll try it—”

“last word. Your last word.”

“Oh.” He said, “Lovie...you don't like it ?”

You shaked your head, sniffing very unsexy-ly

“Call me that...I love it.” Simon pushed up the book up his face, his neck was pulsing with his many veins and you knew the blush that would be blooming on his hard face. Cute.

“Again.” You tilted your head, to get a look at his flushed out face.

“Okay Lovie...sleep now.” He grumbled, flicking your bedside lamp off and bookmarking the book with one of your scrunchie he removed from his wrist.

“Huh...Good night baby.” You said, waiting to be corrected, waiting for those two words to come and upside down it all.

But they never came, like they never even existed, never had a meaning to them at all.

No attachment, lost forever in darkness.

“G'night lovie.” He said so sweetly, and when you closed your eyes this time, you only saw daylight.

Grim Reaper! Simon

Masterlist

[katebeckets]

how to say “I love you” in x-files [6/?] ⤷ 2.13 — “Irresistible”

I don't want him to know how much this is bothering me. I don't want him to feel like he has to protect me.