#for the weekend

[azaablue]

im tired of the sweet/nice/innocent/normal duke thomas characterization when we talk about the batfamily- esp since hes canonically jaded and sarcastic. like he has complicated feelings about his powers and gotham and the batfamily. and yes, he's nice, but he's also really smart and complex and a deeply interesting character that is pigeon holed like many poc characters are in media (like even cass tbh) to being the unproblematic, un-complex, self-actualized one instead of being given the attention and depth from fans as their white counter parts. and i know he's newer, in comparison to say bruce or dick, but he's here now and if i see him as the "actually really self-actualized" one in the new umbrella academy meme or as troy holding the pizza in the still from community (you know the one) im gonna loose it.

[hoesonpointe]

[dujour13]

Not prompt or a wip or anything, just riffing. An Act III moment.

---

When he crawled into the tent Woljif was already curled up, facing away, tail between his knees. The sullen posture was impossible to ignore.

Siavash sat cross-legged on his bedroll and contemplated how best to handle this. First thing was to slip out of his torn, bloodstained shirt, the skin under which was now fully healed, and shove it under the tent flap so as not to remind him of the mishap. Honestly it was only excruciatingly painful for a couple of minutes before Daeran came to his rescue, and you can’t expect to disarm dozens of demonic traps with a perfect success rate. But while Siavash was lying gasping on the floor Lann had lit into Woljif with some scathing remark about the weakest link and although Woljif’s repartee had been swift and sharp, not unlike the trap, it was evident from his tail-droop that he’d taken it to heart.

Soothing words would seem too much like pity. Maybe Lann-bashing would do the trick. “Remember that time in the Tower of Estrod when Lann pushed over that column and almost—”

“First of all, it wasn’t my fault. And even if it was, Lann can go eat dirt.” Woljif didn’t turn.

“I was going to say, if I recall correctly you’re the one who pulled me out of the way that time.”

“Seriously?”

“What?”

“I thought you were some kinda diplomat.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re gonna pull the ‘everybody makes mistakes’ line on me? What’re you tryina do anyway, cheer me up?”

“Well, I’ll stop then, if it’s that bad.”

“I don’t need cheerin’ up,” Woljif mumbled into his pillow.

Siavash sat in silence for a little while, pulling off his boots and then his belt, and performing a little clean-up cantrip to remove the smear of dried blood across his torso, all the while keeping an eye on the tension in Woljif’s shoulders. Though it didn’t ease, eventually Woljif rolled onto his back and eyed him, and whatever he was thinking, his frown very gradually softened.

“Sheesh. You can do better’n that.”

“Like what, then?”

Woljif looked away, pursing his lips. “You’re the expert. What do I know about cheerin’ people up?”

“You won’t like my other tactic. You won’t believe me if I tell you you’re not the weakest link, even if it’s true.”

“You got that right. If it ain’t me, who is it?”

“Probably me.”

Success. An almost imperceptible curl to the corner of his mouth.

“It’s true you didn’t sound very Knight-Commanderly when that thing hit you.”

“It hurt, ok?”

Woljif rolled to prop himself on an elbow facing him. “How many times do I have to tell you to quit rushin’ in first and thinkin’ second? If you were standin’ back it wouldn’t have—”

“Oh, it’s all on me now?”

Their eyes met, a spark of laughter exchanged.

But the spark died as the crease returned to Woljif’s brow. Almost shyly he reached up and laid a hand on Siavash’s chest where the knife trap had pierced. He let out a sigh. “S-sorry.”

“Everybody makes mistakes,” Siavash said gently, through a wry smile. “I think we’re doing pretty well, considering.”

Woljif stared at him like he’d just sprouted wings.

“Chief. How have you survived this long?” His voice was a whisper.

He didn’t answer. Siavash laid a hand over his, pressing it to his chest as he leaned down to kiss him. Even as he closed in, Woljif was still studying him in astonishment, but the moment their lips touched it was all forgotten, the drag of fear and self-doubt falling away, replaced with a buoying sensation as if being forgiven and—gods forbid—cheered up could actually raise him to new heights, rather than give him permission to fail again. The chief had a strange way of doing things, all right. Gods he hoped it wouldn’t get him killed.

[ent-is-undecisive]

I forgor my charger at work

[linguenuvolose]

I AM SO FILLED WITH LOVE!!

[polycatyl]

Free

[many-sparrows]

I'm very tired of this "queer college students should stop supporting Palestine, they'd kill you there!" I watched a hijabi ask a trans man, "but what name do you want to go by?" A butch giving a woman their hoodie so that she could keep her hair covered after the cops took her scarf. Muslim girls making sure the lesbian couple got through the system together. Religious men making sure purple haired protestors got out safe. I don't want to hear it. Solidarity forever, free Palestine.

[figofswords]

Dungeon food. Ahhhh, dungeon food!

[post-grammatic-stress]

If you've ever told a person who's had to be bedbound for a period of time that you wish you could "just stay in bed", DO IT.

Stay in bed. For days. But don't get up if someone needs you to, or you get bored, or you get antsy. Don't do anything other than rest. Just lie in your bed, whether you need to get stuff done around the house or socialize or anything else "productive". You'll have to cancel on people, you'll disappoint them, they won't understand.

And if you're thinking, "well, i CAN'T just be in bed. There's stuff that has to be done - I have plans", maybe ask yourself why you assumed a disabled person doesn't have plans or things to do or desires.

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

[goodbuttaken]

a co máte v plánu vy?

[whydidisavethistomyphone]

[bonefarm]

Deer season is upon us.

1.) Wear your seatbelt.

2.) If your choice is swerve at high speed or hit the deer you plow Bambis mom like you’re an IT specialist with a secret Twitter account and it’s anthrocon weekend.

Deer are softer than trees. Deer are softer than rolling your car 8 times.

[fairyturds]

All toxic reddit relationship posts are about them actually

[shakespearian-love]

Morning kisses with you ❦