#masks don’t work

[commonsensecommentary]

Forcing us to wear the face diapers never had a thing to do with science. It was always about spreading fear, exerting control, and justifying election fraud. We were played for suckers by the Deep State Marxists, and we’re now suffering the consequences.

[superbat-lmao]

Jason travels to an alternate universe where Bruce only cares about being Batman. He took in each of his kids to serve the mission, not be his children.

Now, faced with alternate versions of his family, Jason has to grapple with the fact that his Bruce does care, that he is his father. Because the man in front of him now, trying to send him home, isn’t even close.

[turtleblogatlast]

I adore the idea of Leo developing a love for glam rock not only because he likes the music but also because of how many glam rock bands had vibrant and extravagant eye makeup - looks that his own red stripes were right at home with.

Like just imagine a little Leo rifling through his dad’s music and choosing to vibe with glam rock specifically because he was like “:0! Like me!:)”

[restlesskeychains]

Now I’ve got an Artemis design! :D

[thelesbianthespianposts]

Rating superhero/villain dynamics on how gay they are

Batman/Joker:

do i even have to say it. Usually they have a pretty one sided thing with Joker being high-key obsessed with him but Batman has no interest in that at all. Way overhyped imo. bonus points for the Lego Batman Movie 5/10

Superman/Lex Luthor

despite many factors and the fact they have a son together, there’s not a lot of tension. Plus Lex gives major homophobic vibes, (he’d make pride lexcorp merch while backing don’t say gay bills)

2/10 for kon

Green Lantern(Hal Jordan)/Sinestro

oh my god. They have the whole friends to enemies thing that you could swap for lovers to enemies so easily. The worst exes you’ve ever seen. I think they’re actually a couple in some comics (prolly an AU). That one episode of DC Super Hero Girls (the new one) where Hal fights both Sinestro and Carol and they’re said to be on the same level. good shit

10/10

Wonder Woman/Cheetah

it depends on the comic. Sometimes they’re very flirty and suggestive and other times they’re tearing each other’s clothes off bc the male author thought it’d be hot. I think that goes for a lot of woman/woman dynamics in comics tho. I honestly don’t get sometimes why they’re fighting bc they seem to have a lot in common.

6/10 they should just date

Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson

Jesus Christ guys wtf are y’all doing. They have the funniest dynamic in all of DC comics. Old ass ‘nam vet picks fight with 15 year old who he blames his son’s death on. While I adore the 2003 teen titans show, they got the dynamic so wrong. Their dynamic only becomes homoerotic once Dick is an adult. They have profound respect for each other but they also fucking hate each other. They’re enemies, they’re friends, they’re co-parents, they’re the least mentally stable people you’ve even seen.

20/10 unparalleled

[only-lonely-www]

Family Resemblance

But like look at the concept art, the resemblance is crazy

[puppppppppy]

Why are ppl scared to call it what it is and say we’re still going thru covid on top of seasonal illness. Like. That’s pretty important right. I was watching the news and they were like oh yeah we have an unprecedented number of flu cases “as well as other sicknesses” without actually saying Covid. No announcement abt vaccinations or masking or anything. Also if I hear someone joking abt “war flashbacks” for mentioning covid I fucking hate u

[leifyposting]

Rosaria is not usually this transparent.

She isn’t Barbara, who wears her heart on her sleeve, or Jean, who does not count lying among her many talents. She isn’t even Kaeya, whose intricate masks and careful dissembling only hold up as long as the wind doesn’t blow too hard.

Rosaria is impassive, unreadable, barely even there. She’s spent enough years learning how to let people’s eyes slide right off her. It turns out that you can wear fishnets and claw rings and people will still let themselves ignore you if you give them the right excuse.

But she has been drinking, tonight — not quite to the edge of tipsy, but close, right on the line where the lights are warmer and the wine is sweeter and the chatter of the bar patrons tips from grating to almost melodic.

And so maybe she lets her eyes linger, just a little, on the broad back and flaming hair of tonight’s bartender. 

No one would blame her if they caught the way her gaze flits over to him and away, one stolen glance every couple of minutes. Diluc cuts a dashing figure in his bartender’s uniform: all straight lines and stark contrasts, his red hair bright against the white of his vest. He carries himself with a quiet composure born of physical power and a bank vault full of cash. Half the people in this tavern have been ogling him all evening; she’s still not sure if he’s truly oblivious or willfully blind. 

As she watches, he slides a drink over to the Traveler at the end of the bar, waving away the offer of payment. He wipes down the counter with a practiced hand before tossing the cloth over his shoulder once more. Then he turns back, and Rosaria doesn’t look away quite quick enough to stop their gazes from catching and holding. 

Diluc’s gaze burns like the embers of a campfire, low and controlled, but with the promise of destruction unleashed. For a long second, he watches her watching him. 

Then he smiles. 

It’s a different smile from the confident one he gives her in the middle of the night when they’re on a manhunt, or the rueful shouldn’t-have-let-my-guard-down grin he sports when he’s taken an injury he should have been able to dodge. 

This smile is small, meant just for her: the corner of his mouth quirks up, boyish and almost shy, and for a moment Rosaria catches a glimpse of the young man who’d brought Mondstadt to its knees. 

He’s so godsdamned pretty it makes her throat tight. Despite her better judgement, Rosaria finds herself smiling back. 

She suppresses her smile as soon as she registers it — but Kaeya has always been too perceptive for his own good. 

“Playing with fire there, Rosaria,” he murmurs once Diluc turns away. He leans an elbow on the bar counter and fixes her with an unreadable smile. 

“What do you mean?” she asks evenly, taking a swig of her wine.

Kaeya looks unimpressed by her attempt at deflection. “Falling in love with him is a bad idea.”

“I’m not in love with him,” Rosaria says. She realizes too late that this too is a confession. She ought to have asked who he meant; she’s shown her hand too early.

“Sure,” Kaeya says, serious for once. “But you’re getting there.”

“Am not.”

He shakes his head at her. “I wouldn’t get too close, if I were you. He burns everything he touches.”

Kaeya was her first real friend in Mondstadt. She knows what Diluc did — in broad strokes, if not in detail. It definitely makes her a bad friend that she likes him anyway. 

Kaeya’s lone visible eye tracks Diluc’s movement as he weaves his way through the bar, clearing tables. “The thing is, he doesn’t mean to,” he says, his voice low and almost affectionate. “He tries so hard, you know? He’d try, if you asked him to.”

“I’m not asking him shit. There’s nothing going on between us.”

“He just always ends up destroying things anyways,” he continues as if she hadn’t spoken, his fingers tracing lines of frost on the condensation of his glass, his eye still fixed on the back of Diluc’s head. “It tears him apart, but good intentions don’t restore what’s been broken.”

He looks back at her. For a moment she thinks she sees wildfire flames licking at the deep blue of his visible eye, before they resolve into the gentle glow of the lamps that light the Angel’s Share. “I know you’re not going to listen to me,” he says, and smiles mirthlessly. “You can make your own decisions, of course. But be careful, alright? I’d hate to see you hurt in the course of protecting Mondstadt.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. Rosaria knows it as soon as it leaves his lips. 

Because no matter how bad Diluc is, Rosaria is worse. Kaeya has forgotten that frost burns too. 

Diluc is a fine, upstanding citizen, the uncrowned king of Mondstadt. Rosaria is a scrappy orphan at the mercy of the Church. Diluc has a bent for justice and a mission to take care of the weak. Rosaria only knows revenge.

Kaeya forgets — or ignores, because he is a good friend, and he cares for her in his own way — that Rosaria deserves nothing but destruction and pain. Everything she has received from Mondstadt has been at the cost of its citizens. She owes a debt she can never repay; if she takes some injury in the course of protecting this country, it will simply be what she deserves. 

She lays a hand on Kaeya’s arm and watches him jolt. “Getting burned is part of the job.”

“Of protecting Mondstadt?” He sounds skeptical. “The nation has never asked that of you.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “Someone’s gotta do it. Don’t act like you haven’t sacrificed for Mondstadt too.”

“Oh, I won’t pretend I haven’t,” he says lightly. “But I’m a hedonist, you know — I’ll always pick pleasure over pain.”

She laughs, opting not to call him on this obvious lie. “I guess that makes me a masochist, because I don’t care if I get hurt.” 

“I care,” he mutters, then sighs. “Look, you’re a grown-up. If you want to flirt with the sun, I won’t stop you. I just reserve the right to say ‘I told you so’ when your wax wings go up in smoke.”

“I’ll be careful,” Rosaria promises. 

(Across the tavern, Diluc laughs at something Venti says, low and rolling and resonant. The eyes of half of Mondstadt follow the sound, and Rosaria has never been one to go with the crowd, but in this and this only—)

Kaeya rolls his eyes, shrugging her hand off his arm. “No, you won’t.”

“No,” she agrees, and grins. “I won’t.”

[rpfisfine]

[ryukisgod]

Mood

[scarlet-herring]

as someone who’s never liked timsteph i find it so funny that i just accidentally talked myself into a revrob au of them. revrob au where war games happens, steph (~15) gets captured & tortured, except this time tim (~16) comes in to try & help but due to [unforeseen circumstances] no one comes as backup, and they’re both tortured, leading to steph’s red hood era via being resurrected somehow by arthur brown and tim’s oracle era brought on via complications due to torture.

tim’s the one person steph won’t target, and steph’s the one person tim can’t really get angry with about killing, because they get it.

[thesaintofnevergettingitright]

Wait. Hold on. I just finished my second watch of season two and I have a theory…

I think Aziraphale knew he fucked up before he ever got on that elevator.

HEAR ME OUT!

I think the moment that he heard that his big project would be the Second Coming, he instantly realized Crowley was right. As soon as the Metatron mentions the Second Coming, Aziraphale looks directly to Crowley with what I think is very-well-concealed panic. I don’t think that was a wistful gaze at what-might’ve-been. I think that was an instinctive entreaty for help from the person he trusts most in the world, followed by the immediate realization that he can’t ask for Crowley for help without letting the Metatron know something’s wrong.

Because Aziraphale KNOWS that the Second Coming is just a different flavor of Armageddon, it’s literally the rapture. There’s no planet where our boy has changed so much that he’d be willing to bring about the end of humanity, and the fact that he didn’t object to the idea instantly is important. To me, it means that Aziraphale must’ve made a split-second decision to play along. He didn’t have time to tell Crowley what was wrong, and even if he could’ve, he didn’t have enough information to put a stop to it.

Basically, I think that in the moments after the Metatron mentioned the Second Coming Aziraphale realized several things in quick succession

Crowley was right.

He and Crowley were going to have to save the world again.

If they were going to stop another apocalypse, they needed to know what they were up against.

The only way to know was to have a man on the inside.

There wasn’t time to tell Crowley any of it.

Now the question is, how does Aziraphale let Crowley know what’s going on?? Because he can’t stop Armageddon 2 (Electric Bugaloo) by himself.

[lemonwrap]

Since it’s now spooky month, I’ve decided to share something truly terrifying! (A half edited draft)

[triplexdoublex]

[fandomly-obsessed]

To be loved for all your flaws is the greatest weakness one can know. To steadily dismantle one’s walls and let yourself be seen. Be known. To unveil oneself in an act of trust. To wear one’s scars and sins and shame, bare to another. It is truly terrifying, to wait for a response. To trust so wholeheartedly that one would carve the very soul from their body (every weakness, every failure, every hateful thought) and place it in the hand of another.

And when they place it back in the cavern of one’s chest, not with disgust, but understanding? When they acknowledge every uneven piece stitched into your bones, and know that your imperfections make you human? That is the scariest feeling of all.

Because how can you love so deeply that you could love me?

And how could I ever let you go?

[skyloftian-nutcase]

I woke up with a sore throat and sneezing.

If you feel up to it, how would one of the healthcare AU boys handle waking up sick?

Legend knew it was going to be a pin when he woke up feeling congested. His stomach clenched uneasily, not quite nauseous but definitely not comfortable. His head pounded, his throat ached, and he was already over this.

I swear, if this is War’ head cold I’m gonna clobber him.

For a second, he felt relief - he could call out from work since he was sick! - and then he remembered that he worked in healthcare, that nobody cared if he was sick, that this was just a head cold and he would have to suck it up and deal with it.

He remembered Wind one time wishing everyone got sick so they would get a break, and Time had said what they’d all been thinking: “No, then we’d just be working and miserable.”

Trilling out a breath through his lips, he dragged himself out of bed. Some cold medicine would hold him over. He hopefully put a hand to the back of his head, feeling a little warm, but even a fever wouldn’t stop him from getting an occurrence if he called out, so there was no point in checking.

“Typical,” he grumbled as he wandered into the kitchen. There was some cold medicine that was still half full, so he took the prescribed about and washed it down with an energy drink before brushing his teeth and washing his face. His stomach… did not appreciate the concoction, so he carefully sipped some ginger ale to try and settle it.

His mood was certainly sour as he drove to work, but he tried to rationalize with himself. This did just feel like a bad cold - there was no point in lamenting not missing work, because there was no point in not going in. A cold wasn’t an excuse. It wasn’t like he was dying. He’d worked through far worse.

But the fact that he had to be sick while working was a pain.

When he trudged into the ED, Warriors shot him a suspicious look. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Legend grunted hoarsely. “Just a cold.”

“That’s what you get for working straight nights,” Wars commented with a click of his tongue. “Destroys your immune system.”

“So says the guy who sounded like a congested goose the other night,” Legend snapped. “Pretty sure you’re the one who got me sick!”

“That was allergies! I don’t have a cold!” Warriors argued.

Someone sneezed, making the two whirl in their direction to see Wild leaning against a stretcher, looking pale and miserable.

“It was you, wasn’t it!” Legend accused.

Wild blinked, confused. “Me?”

“You’re getting everyone sick,” Wars joined in. “Put a damn mask on!”

Wild rolled his eyes. “I’ve been wearing a—hey!!”

The transporter hissed as Legend and Warriors armed themselves with alcohol wipes and sanitation spray, warding him off like some hellspawn before grumbling as they got their assignments for the night.