#i just felt like i needed to share this information

[purgaytorysupremacy]

as the grandchild of survivors of the Second World War on both sides, this has been a really hard thing for me to internalize. none of my grandparents (nor my parents) talked about WWII much. I don’t actually know that much about what my families were doing, only that it was bad. I have an entire branch of my family tree that’s just gone and (supposedly) no one knows why. where I grew up in Canada had a lot of Holocaust survivors because we had large Dutch and German communities already, and every year until I graduated high school, we were fortunate enough to hear firsthand stories from survivors.

the one thing my grandparents would say and those survivors would repeat in their talks, over and over, until it was seared in my brain: “Never look away. You can’t let this happen again. The least you can do is never look away.”

I took this lesson very seriously. I was plugged in to the news all the time. I felt so helpless and useless and hopeless, but I wasn’t going to do the people suffering through it the disservice of looking away. I donated my money and my time and hoped to get into international aid, even joined the military because Canada is the nation of peacekeepers (Listen, I was a kid lol) and Gen. Roméo Dallaire, the Canadian who led the peacekeeping mission in Rwanda, was my hero. (Even as it ruined his life.)

I don’t know if anyone reading this had this same experience. I don’t know many people IRL who had this message drilled in so completely. (Being a white first-generation Canadian as a millennial is like that sometimes.) And I ended up breaking. I just couldn’t keep watching everything and being utterly unable to do a damn thing about it. It made me feel like a bad person and like I failed not only my grandparents but all those who shared their stories, so few of them who are still alive to do so.

Thing is, my grandparents got their news from film reels and this new thing called radio. The photos and documentation they saw from the time, both now and contemporaneously, was sparse and edited and targeted, for better or worse. None thought we would someday live in a world where individual people can upload hours of no-context atrocities from anywhere at any time.

Obviously, the “Never Again” and “Don’t look away” aren’t literal, but the way we pay attention now is different than they would’ve in the 1940’s or 1970’s. No one taught me how to stay true to something that has become a core value while not collapsing into compassion and empathy fatigue to the point where I have to look away.

I don’t have an answer on that balance yet, but just understanding that there does need to be one has been incredibly helpful. That doomscrolling isn’t helping anyone. That paying attention doesn’t mean knowing everything about everything at all times. We have more information by orders of magnitude than even existed in my grandparents’ lifetimes. We have to choose what “not looking away” looks like for each of us in the cultural and activism environments we live in. No one is more virtuous or caring because they’ve exposed themselves to more trauma than someone else. It’s not sustainable. You’ve gotta keep your oxygen mask on.

A video that was really helpful in me noodling this out—it’s been a lifelong project, and I’m sure it will continue to be—was Hank Green’s vlog on Webs of Care.

None of us can do everything, but all of us can do anything.

Hi. Things are bleak, I know that. I know that we paid for Trump's last term with blood and it is likely the price will be blood again.

But listen to me. LISTEN.

You do not have to force yourself to witness horrors as an act of activism. It is not a form of activism. You can put your phone down, you can block that horrific video. We cannot win if you cannot fight and you will not be able to fight if you are hopeless.

Do not let them guilt you into this. People who are exhausted are easier to walk over. Take care of yourself, find community where you find joy.

[cenittxnadir]

Logan Howlett Canons

I'm trying to make a list of all the canons I know and I have seen on the comics and authors notes about him. This list has the purpose of giving some ideas for your fanfics, works and your own headcanos. I really just like to ramble about my favorite characters and share what I know :). Maybe I'll do one for Kurt. You know the drill; English is not my first language so they might be some orthographic errors

Logan had two half brothers: Dog Logan and Jhon Jr Howlett -who died quite young-

His real father's name is Thomas Logan (her mom had an affair with him while she was married to John Howlett.)

Logan´s relationship with her mother wasn't the best. He was usually neglected by her, but his dad (John) used to love him very much.

Logan had two best friends as a child: Dog Logan and Rose O'Hara (Theres no info if she's related to Miguel O'Hara. Although she was Irish as well. She was Logan's first love, unfortunately he killed her by accident, and yes, Jean resembles a lot to her, that's why Logan felt attracted to her.

In the comics, Logan got the name Wolverine as a nickname from his workmates when he worked in mine, referring to his animalistic way of work. In the movies he got the name from the legend of Kuekuatsheu.

Logan spent a while leaving with a pack of wolves, part of his mutation allows him to communicate with animals in a basic level

Logan has superhumanly acute sense, like the five of them, his skin is more sensible as well as he tastes (Use this information with caution) he can see in the dark with no problem and can get sensory overloaded pretty easily

In the movies, Logan smokes a lot because this helps him to disguise some smells that for him can be overwhelming. In Logan due to his age and loss of his mutation he doesn't smoke that much because strong smells are not a problem anymore

Against the common belief, Logan its quite intelligent, he's a weapons and computer expert

Believe it or not, he is a skilled pilot and a vehicle expert, he can drive pretty much everything and is good at vehicle repair

He had trained Black widow, Rogue, Storm, Nightcrawler, Colossus, Sunspot, Jubilee, Shadowcat and among other in hand-to-hand combat.

Logan is a polyglot. He speaks: English, Japanese, Russian, Mandarin, Cheyenne, Korean, Lakota, Spanish, and Krakoan.

Logan's blood type is O-

Wolverine carries a medical card stating that he is a war veteran who has a metal plate in the head, to help him bypass metal detectors in airports

Logan has used the E-Mail address 'snikt1@xaviers.com' (Love him so much) Also, Deadpool has claimed to have hacked Wolverine's Tumblr account (He knows about us, he is among us, probably he runs a fanfic account, who knows)

Logan have claimed that his biggest and greatest love is beer

Logan burns a lot of calories while healing so needs constant fuel. (He has a big stomach)

Logan had a bunch of biological kids, but the ones that stand out more are Laura, Gabriela (she is Laura's direct younger sister/clone, I love her so much and they like to hang out a lot with Wade) and Daken. They are comics of them together

[drunkinyourbenz]

ALWAYS THERE FOR YOU

☆ SYNOPSIS: your parents' excitment about the election results left you with a pit of dread in your stomach. luckliy for you, you had billie, who helped you through it all.

☆ RELATIONSHIP: billie eilish x fem!reader

☆ WARNINGS: angst, comfort, politics, right wing family, implied homophobic family, long distance relationship (during tour)

☆ REQUESTED? yes, anon

☆ NOTE: hi my loves, i saw this request and just had to write it right away (literally wrote it in half an hour lmao) for anyone needing comfort as well as the anon who requested this, i hope you're doing okay. i'm not from america, but i'm also deeply dissapointed about the election results, and i feel for all of you who are there. i hope i did this request justice, i don't have a family who's like super against my views so i hope this is okay <3 anyone with family celebrating like the readers is in this story, please imagine me giving you the biggest hug rn, i hope you're coping okay. my dms are always open if you want to talk about anything at all, i love you all, please stay safe <33

☆ WORD COUNT: 1.2k words

you and billie had been dating for a while now, and she made you happier than anyone ever had before. she was your other half, and without her you would feel incomplete. you weren’t on tour with her, much to both of your disappointments. but you’d had personal things that took up your time at the start of tour, so the plan was that you’d join her once she came on tour to your city, and you’d join her for the rest of tour. despite not being on tour with her, your mind always drifted back to her, she had a permanent residence in your heart. 

so naturally, on election night, you sat in your room thinking about her. you wanted nothing more than to be held by her in this moment, you’d slipped away from dinner as soon as you could, but you could still hear your family’s excited chatter coming from downstairs. the fact that they were happy about the way it was going, the way they wanted a future that was so drastically different from the one you had in your mind… it stung. your parents genuinely wanted a future that you weren’t sure whether you had a place in, and you didn’t really know what to do with that information.

you were trying to stay off social media, to stay away from the news, because you knew it wouldn’t help you—you couldn’t change a thing. but every few minutes, you’d end up switching back to the tab on your laptop with the live updates, feeling a sense of dread settling in your stomach. you couldn’t quite comprehend how so many more people had voted for him, the man who made you genuinely fear for your future. 

so finally, you texted billie. you needed her comfort, even though it would just be her voice over a call. you needed her. 

can i call you??

billie replied not long after, her text simple. 

bils: ofc baby

her contact calling you came up on your screen before you could even move to call her, and you automatically accepted the face time. her face popped up on your phone after a moment, and as well as the tiredness from tour you’d been seeing so much of lately, she looked just as crestfallen as you. the two of you shared the same opinions on this, and you knew how much billie cared about it. 

just as the call loaded properly, you heard a loud cheer from downstairs, and you couldn’t stop the grimace that appeared on your face. billie’s lips curved down in a soft, sympathetic frown, “oh, baby.” 

a sigh left your lips, the sound somewhat defeated, “i just… i don’t know how they want that. it feels like they want a future that i’m not safe in–” billie cut you off with an understanding sigh, she knew that if she let you keep talking, you’d simply spiral. she knew what you meant, you felt a rift between you and your parents, you felt unsure of what that meant for your relationship with them. billie herself had never experienced it, with her own family being supportive and sharing her views, but she had always been good at comforting you. 

“i’m so sorry, baby. you know that me and my family have always got you, no matter what, yeah? we’ve got your back, we’re always here for you. all of us.” 

your lips curled into a soft pout, her words lessening the sadness you were feeling. “i love your family.”

she smiled softly at you, “and we love you. always.” 

you cracked a small smile at her words, the disappointment behind your eyes still very much evident, but you felt an overwhelming feeling of love for the people in your life. even if your blood-related family didn’t understand, you had your chosen family. that small fact that you had your people, who agreed with you on these things, it helped to soften the blow of your parents wanting the country to go down such a different path than you did. only slightly, but it helped. you felt the pain dull slightly. 

the two of you stayed on the phone for a while, billie distracting you from your parents downstairs by telling you about the tour so far. obviously, she was also upset about everything going on, but she knew you needed this support and that was more important than talking about it. she just wanted you to feel okay. you could feel the emotions hanging around both of you even through the phone, but you appreciated that she wasn’t mentioning them right now. you’d have plenty of time to talk about the election later, once you didn’t feel so despairing about the future. 

after about half an hour of the two of you just talking, you decided to ask her something. 

“bils?” 

“hmm?” she hummed, looking up as if she could sense the importance of what you were about to say even through one word. 

“do you… do you think i could join you on tour a bit earlier than planned? i just don’t know if i can stay in this house for any longer, it’s just–”

“of course.” 

her instant, firm reply cut off your rambling and you sighed in relief, “thank you–”

“don’t thank me, darling. i just want you to feel safe.” she paused, thinking, “you could join us on the minnesota dates, if you want. there’s two days there, so it gives you more time to get here. i can book you a flight–” 

you smiled at her considerate words, the way she was taking everything into account. oh, how you loved her. “that sounds perfect. and don’t book first class this time, jesus. i can put up with an economy flight, i’m used to them. plus,  i get to see you at the end of it.” 

she smiled warmly, “mm, you do. and then i’m wrapping you up in a massive hug and never letting you go, because i love you.” 

you giggled softly at her words, “i think i’m looking forward to seeing maggie more, actually.” 

billie rolled her eyes fondly, her mother just adored you. “i don’t blame you.” 

the two of you talked into the night, and were still on the call when you woke up. you weren’t aware that you’d fallen asleep, and you probably wouldn’t have if it weren’t for her soothing voice.

it was now the early hours of the morning, soft sunlight streaming through the curtains you’d forgotten to shut. the house had gone silent by now, your parents finally asleep, and you felt a tiny bit of peace just laying there in the silence. you looked at the screen for a moment, simply admiring her pretty sleeping face, the way her eyelashes fluttered slightly and her chest rose and fell with each breath. this time in a few days, you’d be in her arms again. 

you let out a soft sigh. the country may be falling apart by the seams, but you had billie. you had her, so you’d be okay. 

[librababe99]

Hello! I hope you a good day ❤️

Could you write something for Bruce Wayne × Reader along the lines of "I like strawberries" *the next day the kitchen is filled with strawberries*.

Like Bruce just randomly drops you gifts no note, no sign, he doesn't even give them directly to you

Title: A Berry Sweet Surprise

Tags: Fluff, Bruce Wayne (slight ooc?), Female Reader, established relationships, Love languages  Summary: Bruce always manages to express his love in quiet, unexpected ways, showing that sometimes the grandest gestures are the ones whispered in the smallest details.  Word Count: 811 words  A/N: Alright I’ve been loving fluff lately...and I think this was such a cute idea Anon🥰 I hope you enjoy this as much as I loved writing it. 

The Manor as unusually quiet, the kind of peacefulness that seemed rare in a place that held so much history and chaos within its walls. Bruce and you found yourselves in the kitchen, enjoying the silence, sharing a soft moment amid a busy life. Alfred had recently brought a basket of fresh strawberries, their deep red hues and juicy scent filling the air.

After popping one in your mouth, you sighed, almost blissfully. “Gosh, I just love strawberries.”

Bruce looked over at you with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll make a note of that.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I didn’t mean it like that,” you replied, still savoring the sweet burst of flavor on your tongue. “They’re just… perfect, you know?”

Bruce merely hummed in agreement, his eyes lingering on you a little longer, as if to tuck the information away. It was the kind of quiet, thoughtful moment that didn’t need words — just understanding.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, you wandered downstairs, barely awake but ready for the comfort of a strong cup of coffee. The familiar smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the kitchen, courtesy of Alfred, who knew you and Bruce far too well by now.

But as you stepped into the kitchen, you stopped, your sleepy eyes snapping wide open. The counter wasn’t just home to your usual morning coffee. Instead, it was overflowing with… fruit. Not just any fruit, either — bouquets upon bouquets, bursting with fresh, plump strawberries. Strawberries in every shade of crimson, gleaming under the kitchen lights like clusters of rubies. They were arranged in decorative baskets, in artfully crafted bouquets, and mixed with other fruits like pineapple stars and melon blossoms, but overwhelmingly, gloriously… strawberries.

Your jaw dropped as you took in the sight. There wasn’t a note, no card explaining this small marvel of fruit, but you didn’t need one. A small laugh bubbled out of you, and you shook your head, pressing a hand to your mouth in delight.

Only one person would remember something so specific, so simple, and take it to heart like this.

“Oh, my,” came Alfred’s voice, his ever-present calm layered with a touch of amused surprise as he entered the kitchen. “I daresay he may have gotten a bit carried away this time.”

You chuckled, glancing at Alfred, who had already set a plate and coffee cup for you. “I love it,” you replied, already reaching for one of the strawberries. “And you know, sometimes I wonder if he’s trying to make you look bad with these grand gestures,” you teased.

Alfred, ever the gentleman, offered a modest smile. “As long as it brings a smile to your face, I won’t be taking offense.”

You took a seat, selecting one of the strawberries from the nearest bouquet, savoring its sweetness with a fond look. The taste seemed even sweeter, knowing exactly whose idea this was and how well he’d listened. It was the kind of thoughtfulness that felt more intimate than anything grand.

As if on cue, your phone vibrated, and you glanced down to see a message from Bruce.

“Did you get my gift?”

“I did. More than enough strawberries to last me a lifetime, you know.”

“Is that a complaint?”

You laughed softly, texting back, “Not at all. Thank you, Bruce. Really. I love it.”

There was a slight pause before he responded, almost as though he were carefully crafting his reply. “I’m glad. I like finding ways to spoil you.”

You grinned at the message, feeling your heart swell. For all the sternness and stoicism Bruce often wore like armor, this was a glimpse of the man beneath, thoughtful and deeply caring in his own way.

“You’re the sweetest.”

You could almost picture his smirk when he replied, “Don’t tell anyone.”

Alfred cleared his throat, pretending not to notice the faint blush that had crept onto your cheeks. “Would you like me to set aside a selection of these strawberries for later, or should I prepare them all now?”

With a warm laugh, you glanced over at the mountain of strawberries, feeling happier than you’d expected over something so simple. “Let’s save a few. I think Bruce deserves some of these later too.”

Alfred smiled knowingly. “Very well, miss. I’ll prepare the finest of the bunch.”

You nodded, popping another strawberry into your mouth as you thought about Bruce’s little surprise. It wasn’t grand or extravagant, but in its simplicity, it was perfect. It was the way he showed you love — quiet, thoughtful, never asking for anything in return. And that, you knew, was worth more than anything money could buy.

As you finished your breakfast, you found yourself already anticipating the next time you’d see him, wondering how to show him your own love in return — perhaps in ways just as subtle, just as sweet.

[tarbuchyloewenthal]

i loved and hated dragon age: the veilguard???

apologies for the extended rant i'm about to go on.

i loved being back in thedas after 10 years, and i loved that final scene with solas. the emotional beats hit just right in that moment.

i loved to absolutely annihilate groups of enemies with arcane bomb popping off every five seconds.

i loved almost all of my companions' arcs. they had so many moments of genuine pathos.

yet all these barely made up for my growing frustration throughout the game at the dialogue and dialogue system, the repetitive quest design, and narrative focus.

this game shares pretty much all the features that i hated when i first played mass effect 3 all those years ago. from the opening of the game skipping everything except the most minimal story set up in favor of bombastic cinematics to the extensive use of auto dialogue taking away the feeling that i had control of my player character.

bioware has apparently gotten into the bad habit of thinking the set up at the beginning of a story is unimportant. i hated starting off with a bang in mass effect 3. i hated it in inquisition. and i hate it now in veilguard. to me it feels like narrative malpractice to forgo the most vital part of the story. only getting a slickly animated cutscene to set the scene in the story instead of any actual attempt to know rook and their relationships with varric, harding, and the world at large really put me off.

the large amounts of auto dialogue only exacerbated my frustration. mass effect 1 (and 2 to a slightly lesser extent) made the dialogue wheel and voiced protagonist feel like an actual evolution of their previous dialogue systems in kotor and jade empire (and origins even though that came out after). i felt like i had actual input. conversations flowed like rpg conversations had always flowed. but in veilguard conversations feel way too passive, only needing my input when the game wanted me to add a small dash of emotional flavor to the conversation or the ever present binary choice for major story moments.

that's not to say bioware didn't write in a lot of reactivity. there's an absurd amount of unique dialogue depending on lineage and faction choices, but i, as the player character, never felt like i was in the drivers seat for any of it.

it made my rook feel completely disconnected from the story they were ostensibly the protagonist of, like they manifested into existence mere seconds before showing up to the bar in minrathous.

and the quests, individually well paced, all mainly followed the same formula of walk down a path, grab loot from side paths, fight some enemies, and listen to your companions talk all the while. part of why i like rpgs is the feeling that i'm inhabiting a world that revolves around more than combat and puzzles for loot. even if that's mostly what video game rpgs boil down to at the end of the day, it's the illusion of that which sells me on the game world. when all your quests involve that same formula, it flattens the game world to nothing but a combat arena. which, to be fair, i felt was a problem all the way back in mass effect 2, as well.

i also didn't like how all the lore reveals flatten nearly all the setting's mysteries down to solas and the evanuris. they were really neat in isolation, but taken together they kind of hollowed out the world.

ok, so i'm tiring even myself out by now, so i'll just mention in passing the relentless and unnecessary expository dialogue, as if the writing team didn't trust the cinematics team to get across literally any information (i'm looking at you bellara on the approach to d'meta's crossing).

this rant gives off the impression that i didn't really enjoy veilguard, but i did. it's just that the things it does well are what you expect from bioware, and the things i find issue with have become a bit of an unfortunate pattern from the studio. the game was so good, but it could have been so much better.

[astraearinehart]

──Stella nodded once again. “then it shall be arranged when the time is right,” which referred more to her own obligations and unfinished business back in her home country —she had just fled from Australia after her family had been attacked; they, and she most of all, had extended their reach far beyond for some people’s liking and they wished to put an end to it. they had succeeded, to an extent, to deliver a considerable blow. however, she wasn’t going to share this information with her daughter, at least not at present —this could be a conversation for a later time since she planned to stay in the States for quite some time, for things to calm down and smooth out some ( or until she could work out a more permanent solution ).

studying her expression for a moment, it was evident to her that the guilt her daughter felt was genuine, even though she found it misplaced. she did understand the point of view, but it still struck her as something that should have been left in the past; where it belongs, along with the death of her husband. “and does it ever do you any good?” she questioned, gently removing her hand from atop her daughter’s leg. “my father always said, the only way to move forward is to not look back,” she offered. he used to say it to her, too, when she traveled back home, at the times he would look at her and find her in deep thought, always assuming that she was missing her life back in the States, with Claude. and in truth, there were times she would think of them, both her daughter and Claude, in fondness, but there were also times she swore herself she would never go through the same struggle and misery she had endured for the past years before her brother finding her and inviting her back home. her father used to tell her that love is an insignificant matter, too, what only mattered was to find the best way to success, to wealth; she did not entirely agree —then again, her father had a lot of sayings she found herself neither agreeing nor disagreeing with.

there was a pause for a moment as a smile settled on her lips; love is not enough to keep a family, her father also used to tell her. that, she knew it, down to her very bones, to be correct. “I mean to say this with love, Lizzie,” she began, almost gingerly, searching for the right words. “but financial security is key when you take such a decision…talking about four babies, that is a lot of expenses…” she mused, the number already sounding almost shocking as she voiced it, out loud —to raise four babies, seemed impossible to her. “and I want to know if you need the help…” she added after a moment; she was here to mend their relationship, and she wouldn’t mind helping her only daughter out if she needed it.

“and what about your career? you are giving it up again?” she feared she might be overstepping, but having been tricked by a man she didn’t want the same for Liz; not to be tied down to be nothing more than a mother, depended on a man who could up and leave her out of the blue; leaving her with nothing but a bunch of kids.

⸻ In truth, Elizabeth was feeling suspicious of her mother's behavior, on the other hand, it isn't like she knew this woman. It is funny to think, that some people used to imagine Claude was a widower, but nobody never dared to ask about Stella. In a way, she considered her mother's dead too, since she turned her back on her and never came back. She is here now trying to make up for lost time. ❛ Of course. I would love to. ❜ It is confusing, she really doesn't know how she feels about it.

❛ Not entirely. Only after we married. He knew I loved another, he knew even before we married. But we both had goals to achieve, I wanted to put Papa in rehab and he needed the money for his former drug dealer. ❜ She explained it to her mother. The arrangement after all was with the objective of both getting their goals. Jack hoped that one day she would fall for him, but it never happened. And she feels bad because she could've noticed the signs he truly loved her. He was a good friend in the end. As soon as she met him, they weren't exactly friend and he would purposely vex her. ⏤ That arrangement was Jack's idea either way. It'd be something that would be a win-win for both sides.

The younger Aussie didn't look at her, but at her clasped hands. Stella was right, there was no use of duel with the past, it is done. She tried not to think of it, but some days were just harsh. ❛ You're right, it is on the past. My mind has a tendency to wander into some unpleasant thoughts.❜ She admitted. It is a discreet way to say, she has dark thoughts.

When the conversation shifted to something else, more pleasant. Then she had courage and looked into her eyes, with her sparkling grey-bluish hues. ❛ Yeah. Twins again. This time they'll be identical. I had no idea their gender yet, but it won't take so long. ❜ She sighed deeply, and rested her back on the backrest of the sofa, staring at the ceiling. ❛ I know… But Alex and I are going to receive them with open arms. He is excited, and so do I. We are going to deliver the news to Lou and Beau after doing some stuff. ❜ This 'stuff' is the trip with her man, to Europe where she'd only be his companion. Call it perfect timing Alex invited her to this trip, but she feels the need to take a breath in somewhere where nobody would disturb her. And she could handle her man's shenanigans, not Claude's or her mother's being present or the stress of her toddlers.

[bardthestoner]

So since I was a child I've had this habit of picking up mannerisms from everyone around me, tv shows everything. I've just always mirrored other people's mannerisms. It's always been a thing so most of the time I don't catch when I've acquired a new one.

Then yesterday rewatching hazbin hotel with my girlfriend she pauses it while Alastor is on screen, looks over at me and asks me when I watched hazbin hotel the first time. The answer to that is in October of 2019 when it came out. She sits there for a second says "that's how long you've been doing then head-tilt thing" and then unpauses the show like nothing happened while I'm sitting there realizing that one of the mannerisms I do most often was stolen from that fucking deer man!!!

[ghurab-alzilal]

Damian Wayne "The Robin of Pets"

Just as Bruce seems to have a compulsion to adopt children, Damian seems to have inherited that gene but when it comes to pets, which are quite numerous and of all sizes and colors which are:

🐶 Tɪᴛᴜs ᴛʜᴇ Gʀᴇᴀᴛ Dᴀɴᴇ

To strengthen their father-son bond, Bruce adopted a puppy as a gift in an effort to instill empathy for others in Damian. Although Damian was initially less than enthusiastic about the idea and was even distant simply calling him "dog," over time they became very close and best friends, eventually naming him after the Shakespearean literary hero.

• First appearance: Batman and Robin #2 (2011)

🐭 Sᴘᴏᴛᴛʏ ᴛʜᴇ Rᴀᴛ

Spotty is a small spotted mouse who lives in the sewers of Gotham and Damian greets him every time he visits those places.

• First appearance: Batman and Robin #13 (2011)

🐮 Bᴀᴛᴄᴏᴡ

After a mission in a slaughterhouse, Damian decides to adopt his peculiar bovine friend and even after witnessing the cruelty in those places he decides to become a vegetarian.

• First appearance: Batman Incorporated #1 (2012)

😺 Aʟꜰʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ Cᴀᴛ

Pennyworth adopted this one for Damian from a shelter. Damian was somewhat skeptical as he believed he could not keep it for long, but upon seeing the kitten's personality he was captivated and named it after the person who gave it to him.

• First appearance: Batman Incorporated #6 (2012)

🦃 Jᴇʀʀʏ ᴛʜᴇ Tᴜʀᴋᴇʏ

Batman and Robin ruin the Penguin's attempt to ruin Thanksgiving thanks to Damian's trumpet. That's where he meets his feathered friend, who under the name of Jerry joins the Batfamily dinner. As a invited, not as the main course, don't worry.

• First appearance: Li'l Gotham #2 (2012)

🦇 Gᴏʟɪᴀᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ Dʀᴀɢᴏɴ-ʙᴀᴛ

During one of the League of Assassins' tests in the Year of Blood, Damian is sent to exterminate a population of Dragon-bats and just when he is finishing the objective, a small puppy moves Damian to the core because the little one, instead of hating him for what he did, it tries to console him. That's how he decides to keep him as a "trophy" and his most loyal pet.

• First appearance: Robin - Son of Batman #1 (2015)

🐉 Wɪɢɢʟᴇs ᴛʜᴇ Jᴀᴘᴀɴᴇsᴇ Dʀᴀɢᴏɴ

During a joint mission with Nightwing in the country of the rising sun, Damian meets a dragon that helps them defeat criminals. Upon returning to Gotham, this huge friend ends up in the Batcave with Goliath and Batcow. Wiggles does not have a name during the course of the adventure but in an interaction between one of the writers and a fan he ends up being named as Wiggles the Japanese dragon. (click on the underlining text for context)

• First appearance: Nightwing #42 (2016)

[justinefrischmanngf]

i don’t know how i’m ever going to have sex when even just hugging people is so significant to me……

[spelldealer]

i had an insane dream last night…

[sonknuxadow]

when i was little i was so bad at video games that whenever i played mario on my wii i would just die over and over again because i sucked so bad and eventually i discovered that luigi could beat levels for you if you died enough times so i just started dying over and over on purpose whenever i couldnt beat a level. which was most of them. and i played through the entire game like this all the way to the end

[delicris]

pieces of... pieces

pictures from july, august and september, little moments i'd love to remember (including the "please do not sit on me" sign which was the most memorable out of the entire museum)

[modpoppy]

still recovering from discord and tiktok making me into. a content source. a funny guy. i feel a visceral discomfort in exposing myself to be a breathing machine of ideas and problems because i at one point decided i am designed to output, not input

[latalpavolante]

Mick somehow convinced his older grandson to come to the public pool with Hannah and him. The only reason Jacob gave in was probably to stop his family from constantly bugging him with how he should leave the house more, how he can’t just sit in his room all the time, how he needs to meet up with some people of his age and so on and so on.

Just that there were no other teens at the pool, and Jacob was actually relieved about it. The last thing he wanted his classmates to see was him hanging around with his hippie grandpa and his crazy little sister in his free time.

Still at first Jacob didn’t want to actually go swimming, so there just was some awkard silence, before Mick decided to seize the opportunity to give Jacob some life lessons (which were mostly about how he should take things easy and not worry that much about everything and especially not about his dad’s rants). Jacob loves his grandpa, and feels way more at ease with him than with his dad, and actually feels quite grateful for his support, but still the whole situation was rather embarrassing.

After this conversation, they finally decided to join Hannah in the pool, but while she and Mick were enjoying themselves and had fun chatting with some other visitors, Jacob felt increasingly uncomfortable. He headed to the bathrooms and cried under the shower, and wasn’t able to fully figure out why. He didn’t want Mick and Hannah to notice he wasn’t doing well, so he sneaked over to the desolate basketball court and did some throws, just to distract himself.

But then something unexpected happened.

[waywardsalt]

writing down some notes for bellum traits/speculative biology/whatever so here's a couple so far

he's cold blooded but can't die due to extreme temperatures, it just makes it harder for him to function.

amphibious in the sense that he can survive in both water and air, though he doesn't really need to breathe, if anything he mostly interacts with water and air through traversal differences.

he does move like a squid, he can just float around but to move faster he does need to move his tentacles for slight propulsion and steering, and does intake and jet out water or air for some extra speed. he is not literally a squid creature but he is very similar.

he's got little barbs on the undersides of his tentacles (similar to the texture of a cat's tongue) which help with grabbing onto and holding things.

he can pull his main eye down into his body if he wants to use his mouth as... a mouth, or when he creates those little goop things or otherwise to spit out that purple substance.

[retiredteabag]

winter weight (nanami ver)

Synopsis: nanami has gained some weight this winter, it seems you don't mind.

based on this fanfic I wrote for Toji which was based on this fanart! thank you @lil-sis for requesting more nanami :,)

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

You had known Nanami Kento for years before you were romantically involved. He had never made an inappropriate comment, always treated you with the utmost respect, and was all-around, the truest form of a gentleman.

For a time, you locked away your feelings for the kind man, sure he could never see you in that way, but little did you know, the man in question hid from your gaze, not because he did not want to see you, but in fear that you would see him. See him for what he was: a man, obsessed.

You had been with Ken for nine months now and he was everything you could want and more. He was communicative, thoughtful, and romantic. He looked at you in a way nobody had before. Likewise, for you, those nine months passed with comfortable ease.

This was your first winter together, and with the changing of the seasons you learned day by day that the man you knew was your life partner. The both of you were homebodies in a sense, however, with the chilly air and light snowfall this week, you were even more keen on a night in together.

You raced around the house, lighting candles, simmering mulling spices on the stove, and laying out blankets for the two of you. The house felt even cozier knowing that Ken was coming to join you.

He had spent the afternoon with his parents and was coming over after having dinner, he told you to eat without him and you had just finished cleaning your plate when you received a text,

"I am on my way now, sweetheart, is there anything you would like from the store?"

Ken was like this, domestic in the way that made you want to bounce around the room. You thought for a moment before deciding you would probably need more eggs. Earlier this week the two of you had planned a movie night, the next morning you were both hoping to bake cookies together while playing board games or taking turns reading to one another.

You informed him of the need for eggs and he told you he would be just a few more minutes. During that time you scrolled through the choices of movies, picking a few for the two of you to choose from.

Despite being together longer than the gestational period for a baby human, you still received butterflies in your stomach at the thought of his arrival. Knowing he was nearly home, you bounded to the kitchen and faced the door, the room smelled delicious, the only thing missing was his presence, and perhaps another layer of clothing.

Even so, you could hear his footsteps approach and knew that the two of you would share a blanket and body heat in no time.

When the man finally opened the door he was smiling shyly, a red dusting across his face from the cold. He wore a long winter coat, and in his arms were a bouquet of flowers and a wrapped gift.

You rushed to greet him, taking the day bag from his arm,

"Oh! Ken, they're beautiful!" You stood on tiptoe as he bent his knee and you kissed his cold cheek. "Goodness, you're freezing! Come in please!"

"Hello, my love." He smiled more broadly now, wrapping his free arm around you, "This if from my parents, but they told me not to let you open it until the holidays."

A warmth ran through you, the Nanami's were all too kind. Kento set the flowers on the counter and stepped toward the coat rack by the door to retire his shoes and jacket.

In the motion it took for him to pull the sleeves off his broad shoulders, you took him in. Leaning on the kitchen counter you allowed yourself to stare at him. His dress shirt was tight on his arms, and his suit pants clung to his thighs. You took a step toward him again.

"I almost don't want you to change, you look so handsome in your work clothes."

"Well, I've certainly put on some weight. These pants hardly fit now." he looks increasingly uncomfortable, not to be in your presence but to show that he was dressed in such a tailored fashion.

"Ken, my dear, you look incredible." You contain the desire to squeeze his thigh by walking to the bedroom and bringing out a pair of sweats and a cotton shirt.

"Although you are a delight to see this way, I'll let you get comfortable." You smile and pinch his bicep.

"Thank you, dear, I don't believe I've ever been so heavy. It's all the good restaurants you introduce me to, perhaps I should get back into the gym." He had grabbed the soft clothes you picked for him and walked into the bedroom to change.

"You're the one bringing me to all those good restaurants so you can't just blame me." You smile from outside the door.

"I'm just grateful you're with me" He laughs, pulling the shirt over his head.

"Ugh!" You exclaim, "Of course, Ken, don't say something so ridiculous." He laughs but you are still caught on what he said earlier. "And don't start going to the gym, you look great, very chewable."

He pops out from behind the door and looks down at you, amused. "I'm not sure how to feel about that descriptor, but if you still like me with extra weight, then I suppose I can remain comfortable."

"Still like you?" You gasp offended, "Ken, I grow more attracted to you every day, I don't care how tight your clothes are, in fact, it's a good look."

He gives you a mischievous face, "Go sit on the couch, pick a movie, stop trying to seduce me."

You laugh, incredulous, "I'm not trying anything, I'm only speaking the truth." You shrug, bounding to the couch and crawling beneath the blanket. Ken brings two mugs of cider before joining you.

That night you lay on his chest, watching a cheesy romance, the both of you laughing at the silly main character. You tilt your head up, to watch his face, your eyes catching the beginning of a few grey hairs dispersed in his blonde hair. You gently run your hand through his undercut.

In that moment, in his arms, as comfortable as you've ever been, you are sure, he is the man you will grow old with.