#it’s very much civil

[whoachillbro]

My coworker has been so rude to me the past few days

[gayvampyr]

asking people to be mindful of others when sharing a communal space (especially one you cannot just up and leave from) is not selfish or misanthropic. come on now

[fox-guardian]

[ID: Three digital drawings of Sam and Alice from The Magnus Protocol on gray backgrounds. Sam is a fat South Asian man with warm brown skin, short curly black hair, and a mustache and chin scruff. He is wearing small black earrings, a black cardigan, cream turtleneck, dark red trousers, brown and gold loafers with cream socks, and a lanyard with a white and red card on it. Alice is a lanky white woman with pale skin and freckles, fluffy light brown hair with faded pink tips, and crooked teeth. She is wearing snakebite lip piercings, three pairs of silver earrings, bright pink cat-eye glasses and painted nails, a black wrist cuff and a red and gold bracelet, a pink and grey flannel shirt, a black zip-up hoodie, a tiered flannel skirt with different colored tiers, dusty pink converse and brown socks, and a lanyard with a white and red card on it. The first two images are drawings of a bust and full body of both Sam and Alice respectively.

The second image is a drawing of Sam stumbling while Alice leans back over him, resting her head upside down on his shoulder with her arms crossed. In this image, Alice is wearing a pair of ripped jeans and berry colored socks instead, and Sam also has a pink and grey bracelet visible on his wrist. Both of them are smiling. end ID]

~~~~

it is time for the thems <3

[musubiki]

danmarch 🐉💎

[dear-ao3]

robert e lee was a fucking idiot and a terrible general and im not sorry for saying so

[axoqiii]

i got really strangely invested in parkourciv because of that One guy who reminds me of goro akechi

[zarnzarn]

Epic post canon fluff for the soul!

-

"Athena, help, help!" Odysseus hisses, darting behind her. Athena tenses up, grabbing her spear. "Your wife is after me!"

"She is your wife," Athena rolls her eyes, relaxing and letting the weapon dissolve. Odysseus presses himself between her stature and the wall, arranging her robes around him to make it seem she was sitting on the settee alone.

"As are you," Odysseus says pointedly. The delusion never fails to make an odd rush of emotion go through her, something both bashful and giddy and embarrassed to be feeling both. "And speak softer, she's going to hear you."

"What did you do anyway?" Athena sighs, leaning back against him and stifling a grin as he squawks at the heavy weight of her. "Penelope is a calm, rational woman- she's not one usually to send you running like this."

"What are you talking about?" Odysseus says, outrage muffled behind her. "Calm and rational- do you know she once made me fistfight a merchant who she thought was giving us low quality carpets for our wedding? Carpets, Athena!"

"I don't know how you two keep this kingdom running," Athena sighs, shaking her head as she picks her weaving back up. Two arms sneak around her waist, and she shifts downwards with a soft smile no one can see, letting him hug her tight as if he can squeeze his affection into her body. She does not know how it continues to feel like this, even ten years later, like every day is filled with nothing but satisfaction and content and happiness. "What-"

"Athena!" Telemachus crashes into the door as he loses grip on the marble flooring with his old sandals that really need to be burnt. He shakes his head and turns to run at her, throwing himself at her side like intends to crawl behind as well, like he is not a lad of twenty-six summers now. "Mom is- oh, hi, dad!"

"Hey, Tele," Odysseus says warmly, and Athena begs for patience as they both try to adjust themselves behind her. "Did she see you?"

"No! But-"

"What," Athena slams her hands down on the loom. "-did you two even do? And why am I collateral in your foolishness?"

"Because we're your favourites," Telemachus says shamelessly. She regrets the day she and Penelope decided to leave the sweet child alone with his insufferable brat of a father for that holiday they took together around the island. He was never quite the same ever again. "And shhh, she's gonna hear you!"

"Let her," Athena says mutinously. "And you're wrong- Diomedes is my favourite. The calmest, quietest one of all of my students."

"Then stop sending him away to guide youngsters on magical quests!" Penelope snaps as she storms in. Athena is ashamed to admit she quails back at the furious entrance with wide eyes. "Maybe then I'd get someone else in this house who isn't an absolute fool!"

"Penelope-" She says, as if she's done something wrong and she is also not an ancient goddess of war who fought the Titans themselves.

"Athena," Penelope says dangerously. "Where are those rascals?"

Said rascals are frozen still like deer behind her, so much so she barely remembers she's there. "What... rascals?"

Penelope wears a look of incredulity at the terrible attempt at a lie, something that Athena also shares in vague disbelief at her own self, before suddenly changing her tune, looking for all the world a weary, middle-aged, fond woman.

"My darling Athene," she coos, sweet as honey. "Beloved husband mine. Where are those annoying brats, please tell me?"

Athena's heart skips a beat and her fingers stutter on her shuttle.

This nonsense had all started some accursed months ago when she had woken up one morning beside Penelope, Odysseus already gone ahead for the morning to bathe, Athena pressed into the warmth he'd left behind after a particularly bad migraine the previous night.

"I am- not your husband," she manages, trying not to blush at the words. "I do not why you insist on calling me so."

Penelope pouts.

Then Penelope had stretched and thrown an arm and leg over her, and suddenly she was wide awake as the other nuzzled into her neck and murmured, "Good morning, husband."

Athena had burned for that one brief moment, then abruptly teleported out of there to Odysseus in their bathhouse, wading into the water with all her clothes on, babbling apologies and awkward explanations to the bewildered man, while fighting the sudden mortifying realisation of Why have I been sleeping in their marital bed? followed shortly by WHY HAVE THEY BEEN LETTING ME?

And after Odysseus had gotten the whole story out of her- she had not been hysterical, fuck off, Odysseus- he had almost laughed himself sick with mirth. Then after she'd bellowed at him to take it seriously, he'd chuckled and swam closer to her.

Athena had not slipped into the water in shock.

"I won't lie, I do like the sound of it, though," Odysseus had purred. Swam closer and placed his hands on her hips, scalding hot and real. "Penelope would look good with two husbands, don't you think? What say, Pallas Athena, will you be my wife too?"

It had hit her like a sword to the gut, the realisation that he was teasingly seducing her, and it hit like a second sword to the face that even if he didn't really mean it, she wouldn't mind, which was a horrifying development to suddenly be aware of, and the result of that was-

"CEASE!" She had shouted and splashed the entire floor in her mad scramble to get away from him, Odysseus cackling behind her. She had promptly gotten as far away from the entire mad island of Ithaka as she could, and then picked a fight with poor Eros, who was probably the only innocent party in this whole situation.

But after that, they had not stopped, the bastards that they were- went about calling her that all the time, introduced her to people with the title they felt like inflicting on her that day, held her close with the same casual possession they used with each other.

"Are you worried about being the second?" Penelope says brazenly, bangles jingling as she puts her hands on her hips. "Don't worry, love, once I get my hands on Odysseus, you will be my one and only, and we can replace that donkey I call a son as well. Now, I heard you talking to them, where are they?"

"Aw, how come I don't get the title of donkey?" Odysseus says as he peeks out from behind her, and Penelope's face becomes full of rage.

"YOU-!" She hitches up her skirts and chases her laughing husband around the room, shouting insults and curses.

Athena sits there silently, still trying to recover from what Penelope had said so casually to her.

Maybe- maybe it wasn't a joke after all? Were they actually serious-

"You know they are not joking, right?" Telemachus says, sudden sharp knowing in his voice. She looks over at him, and he smiles softly, lifting himself to his knees as he makes his way past her open hair to press a fond kiss to her cheekbone. "They really love you, ma."

Athena makes a truly undignified gurgling noise. Then narrows her eyes. "Manipulation."

"It can be manipulation and truth!" Telemachus says as he reaches out and straightens out the threads of her look that had gotten tangled in all the mess. "I am the product of your intellectual labour, am I not?"

"Are you?" Athena grumbles darkly, and he laughs high and sharp. He has dozens of suitors of his own now, children of heroes and gods alike- and he has every last one wrapped around his finger as easy as breathing, toying with them all so gently they can't do anything but enjoy it as he lazily chooses between them, all father's charm and mother's beauty and smile as sharp as any wolf's.

Athena is so incredibly proud of him.

"Yes," He says, then slumps against her as they watch Penelope pull off her sandals to throw at Odysseus. She misses, and a vase goes crashing to the floor instead as Odysseus slips past her once more. "Mom really is in love with you, though. I can tell."

"I-"

"She knows that too. But maybe come for dinner more often, that's enough to make her day." Athena turns to look at him, raises an eyebrow. Telemachus smiles sunnily. "And there isn't a mortal or Olympian alive who knows what the hell kind of insane dynamic you have going on with dad, so I'm not going to bother asking."

"You used to be such a sweet child," Athena says despairingly. "Why were you tainted so."

Telemachus guffaws.

Another vase crashes to the floor and Athena sighs.

"My most beloved," She calls out, words fitting awkwardly in her mouth. Still, it's worth it to see them both freeze and whip around to stare at her with wide eyes and red cheeks, strangulation and excuses forgotten. She snorts, Telemachus giggles excitedly. "Please. May we forget these petty squabbles and go to lunch? I find myself hungry today."

"Yes!" The two of them practically teleport to her side, looking up at her with adoring, worshipful expressions. Telemachus gestures something encouraging in the side of her vision, and goes on ahead to get the cook ready, successfully escaping his mother's ire.

Athena smiles. Builds up her courage and leans down once on either side to peck them both on the lips and pushes down a smug smile at their stunned expressions as she straightens back up, relishing in the satisfaction of getting one over them after weeks of teasing.

"Well?" She says as she reaches the door, turning back to see them clutching at each other and staring at her, cheeks scarlet. Such beautiful idiots they are, the both of them. She huffs in amusement. "I'll let whoever reaches first call me their wife in front of Hermes tomorrow."

Odysseus and Penelope both shout in dismay and start tussling with each other to reach the door first and Athena laughs as she shifts into an owl and flies overhead, towards yet another day with her favourite people.

[optionalgs]

Jor-El: I made Kal-El a Kyrptonian combat suit out of nanotech so he can go out and fight crime.

Martha Kent: not without something to cover his junk he isn't.

[thefearfulheart]

I offer another clownbo au to the clownbo people again

God Evbo keeps restarting the timeline because something ends up happening to Void that ends up with him dying each time and it breaks Evbo every time it happens.

So he thinks that if he can restart the timeline again that he’ll be able to fix it, that he can stop it before it happens so he does it and he’s back at square one as a noob but with the power of a god at his fingertips and he races back to the top and his first meeting with Void. Relief washes over him as he sees him and he ends up hugging a confused Void who has no idea what’s going but assumes that Evbo is just happy that he didn’t die in general.

Everything goes as it did in the original timeline and it’s great! Evbo even ends up solving things way quicker and getting it all done so much faster than beforehand! The only thing that really threw him off is when during when they went through the hidden level again that when he met the Parkour Villain it ended up with the guy looking at him for an uncomfortable amount of time before actually getting out of his prison and just saying:

“So we meet again.”

Which confuses Evbo and he doesn’t even notice that Seawatt ends up swiping his diamond boots again while he doesn’t notice and giving them to the Villain.

But he ignores it and goes to find him again and defeat the villain.

And he wins.

Then everything is good and great for awhile…Void is alive and breathing and smiling and-

And then he dies.

So evbo tries again.

Because he failed Void, so he needs to try again for him.

So he starts again and climbs his way to the top to see Void again and then continues on towards to meeting the Villain but this time no words are exchanged.

Everything proceeds as normal until the final parkour race between them…and the course has changed.

But Evbo pushes it back and defeats the Villain again.

And everything is good again.

But Void dies and he restarts the timeline to save him.

And again and again. A rinse and repeat cycle that always end with Void dying and begins with Evbo restarting as the villain, perhaps tiredly, stays silent the entire time as it goes through with the only variations being changes to the end parkour course.

It’s a maddening cycle and Evbo feels his sanity slipping bit by bit.

Maybe in the 50th loop or so the villain finally snaps and grabs Evbo by the shoulders with such a rage that it surprises the god.

“Is this some divine punishment of yours that you crafted for me?” The villain would say as his fingers dig into the other’s skin. “To know that I will never win against you…that no matter how hard I try to defeat you that it is just a laughable joke in the end!”

“W-what?” Evbo is just…surprised even though it makes a lot more sense on why the villain changed over time or that the course he beats him in changes. “N-no! How?-“

“How many times have I seen your face? How many times have I died by your hands…”

And the villain just throws him onto the ground with barely hidden anger as Evbo scrambles to…apologies? He doesn’t know.

He didn’t know that someone else…he didn’t know. He doesn’t know what to say.

So he just restarts the timeline and runs away from it as guilt crawls its way to his heart.

But he doesn’t stop it. He’s already gone to far and it’s fine…it’s just a fluke right?

It can’t happen again.

But the next time the villain sees him and, the minute he gets down from his prison, he jumps on top of him and goes to punch him before Evbo restarts the timeline with the realisation that no…it wasn’t a fluke. That it definitely did happen and it now makes everything so much more worse.

It makes him want to vomit.

[notbecauseofvictories]

man, the world seems terrible and full of bad things, and then you read about the Chicagoan who started developing ramen recipes with meticulous (even obscene) attention to detail, or an Irish hurler who decried state-sponsored spending for sports complexes live on air, or well-considered analyses of films or animated television shows and whether they are narratively/dramatically coherent, and it's....well, it's okay to be here. I like it here.

[canisalbus]

Just the thought of a wedding between Vasco and Machete is mind-numbingly sweet. They deserve the best one possible.

.

[stackslip]

i think a lot about how the roman thermae and bathing culture is presented as a sign of how Civilized and Advanced the romans were but one of the essential parts of the thermae was the caldarium, essentially a sauna, which was heated up through the floor.... under which slaves constantly had to toil to feed the fire while suffocating in the heat and steam that would rise through the floor to make free romans and the slaves' masters get a nice sweat, free to move on to the cold baths in the next room whenever they wanted.

[fierceawakening]

Part of me feels guilty for even saying this out loud, but… after all that fighting to get my accommodation for work (literally all I wanted was to be informed when there are fire drills and permitted to stay upstairs since if it’s a drill there’s no danger and those stairs are huge fuckers; in not a drill situations I’ll gladly fuck up my legs for a day or two so as to not die) and finally getting it approved and getting the notice by email

I teamsed my boss saying “did you see the approval? I’d like to talk about who should inform me of drills beforehand” and she went off about how it’s not appropriate to ask that over teams.

When my dudes the approval came via email. To both of us (and to benefits.)

…Like I said I feel vaguely like a Bad Leftist but it straight up boggles my mind that my boss is a black woman and yet has been fighting my request under civil rights law for months and now is a sore loser.

You… are the last person I ever would have expected to find other people’s civil rights an annoying impediment.

My mind is just… boggled. So boggled.

[sforzesco]

so it’s. it’s like. man this is so hard without my laptop.

alright so Crassus is a weird guy, existentially. There’s a tendency to speculate, assign, and insert him into whatever places are conspiratorial and shadowy because he fits into those narrative places with ease. My personal favorite (aside from all of it) is the idea that he may have pulled strings wrt to Sulla and Caesar’s conflict to help get Caesar out of it.

The Defeat of Rome: Crassus, Carrhae and the Invasion of the East, Gareth C. Sampson

In the universe that exists in my head, he definitely had a hand in it, but he didn’t really intend for Caesar to figure out he played a part in it, but Caesar’s good at puzzles, and noticing someone goes both ways. Binding someone to yourself goes both ways.

Crassus: The First Tycoon, Peter Stothard

This scene takes place sometime relatively soon after Sulla’s death. Crassus has complicated feelings about it, Caesar less so. Veni, vidi, vici, baby!

Here’s a bonus thing that I keep thinking about with them.

The Roman Revolution, Ronald Syme

like, utang na loob. and it is DEEP between them.

[bitterrobin]

I see a lot of confusion on why calling Damian Wayne "feral" is racist/problematic, so here's a rundown.

There's a difference between calling your child or your younger sibling "feral" and calling a character like Damian "feral." You know your child/sibling/niece/nephew etc. They're real people, and unless they have a problem with it personally, then there's nothing wrong with calling them feral as a joke. It doesn't (shouldn't) affect their perceptions by other people. It doesn't become a label that follows them.

Damian al Ghul-Wayne is a fictional character. A canonically mixed Arab/Chinese/Jewish White character with a history connected to some of the most prominent Arab comic book characters, who themselves also get insanely mischaracterized.

He's constantly whitewashed. He's been written with racist undertones (the suicide bomber vest). He's had his character development and progress backtracked time and time again by DC. DC treats him weirdly most days and completely shitty in the worst stories.

A good majority of fanon hasn't done any better than DC. You cannot pat yourselves on the back for being more inclusive or mental health aware than DC when you call a mixed Arab/Chinese boy "feral". It's constant. You can come up with various titles and nuances for every Bat-character, for every Robin.

Tim can be smart, a skater, a genius, the one holding everyone together, the little brother, the one who needs love. Jason can be cool, morally "right" or "wrong", unstable, PTSD-stricken, the one who was betrayed, the one with Shakespearean tragedies. Dick can be fun, happy, the first one, the prodigal son, the one with complicated history and the big brother.

You give them room for exploration. Love and care and attention and research. Many headcanons. You either comply with canon or you don't, but there's substance to their character.

What does Damian get? He's feral. He's rabid. He's a gremlin. He can't be reasoned with. He has no self-control, he's impulsive. He's hurt others, and you can't forgive it. Sometimes he's homophobic. Or classist. Or plain mean and rude to your favorite boy. He's always carrying a sword. A psychopath with no regard for another's well-being (usually Tim in a lot of fics). He can't be taught what's right.

I've seen people cry that Damian needs to punished or kicked out or treated the same way he's treated others. He needs to be brutalized or talked down to. He can never grow as a person, because he's mean to Tim or Jason, and you need him to exist as the abuser. His first move is always violent.

Fanon compares him to an animal often; he bites, claws, hisses, growls. Bruce or Dick or Jason or Tim have to wrangle him, tame him, civilize him the white man's way in lieu of his brown mother and grandfather who "clearly" raised him wrong. You don't see the issue with that? The issue with always labeling one of the few major brown characters in Batman comics as the unreasonable animal? That the child of color is always the abuser, the instigator, to older characters?

And even if you don't see him this way, you don't write him this way - then are you giving him the care and attention you give for other Bat characters?

Do you know anything else about him other than his "anger"? Because he isn't always angry. In fact, he's typically well-mannered. Quiet even, when he's not being provoked. DC's writing will always vary but whenever Damian lashes out, he's usually written with a reason to act the way he does.

Are you making him intelligent like he should be? A hard believer in redemption? A neglected and abused child who isn't meek or crying or closes himself within? Are you willing to explore that he's always exhibited the "wrong" kind of trauma responses - lashing out, being snippy, ruining relationships, refusing to admit weakness?

Do you write anything about him without making his mother and grandfather comically abusive and violent? Will you give him the supporting cast/friends he actually has? Can you write his dad/siblings interacting with him without making them white saviors or therapy pets? Can you write him without a ship or his love for animals or being vegetarian overshadowing everything?

Is he a character to you at all other than a glorified plot device with a sharp tongue and the convenience of being violent?

[xbomboi]

apple: briar, remember when we first became best friends?

briar: only when i’m thinking about where my life went wrong.