#not explicitly stated but

[kayleighwinchester]

Rocks and Rom-Coms

((Guess what day it is, ya'll? It's June 2nd, which means I can start posting things for @artyandink's Jensen-a-Thon! Eeeep! I'm so excited. So here it is: my first x reader drabble - and, of course, it had to be Dean x Reader! Nothing but fluff here, ya'll - though I've got some angst coming soon!))

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

You knew that sound - knew it immediately - because only one thing, first of all, made that particular sound, and only one person, second of all, caused it. Your eyes darted up from the TV to the window just in time to watch the old pane rattle just slightly in its frame, a brief flash of pale movement against the darkness outside.

Tap.

Idly, you wondered how long he’d keep it up. You’d never waited it out to see, and, admittedly, you were curious - but time with Dean Winchester was hard to come by, and you weren’t about to waste it counting how many rocks he’d throw at your window before he gave up.

Pausing the movie you were only half-watching and forcing yourself up off of your bed, you crossed the room, opening the window just in time to catch Dean throwing another rock - thankfully, it missed the window (and more importantly, you), bouncing off the frame, and he squinted his eyes shut as he was rewarded with a shower of old, chipping paint.

“You have a key,” You called down, though you already knew his response before he could open his mouth - at the moment, he was a bit preoccupied with brushing flakes of white paint off of his jacket. 

“Yeah, well, this’s more romantic, or somethin’.” He didn’t sound particularly convinced, but he’d made quite the habit of it, anyway. His face turned back upward toward your window, that million dollar smile of his, slightly crooked, lighting up his face in the dim glow of the streetlights. Already, he was crossing the short distance between where he stood and the old, half-dead tree alongside the house. Eyeing the branches with the same wary look he gave them every time, he grabbed ahold of the lowest-hanging one, testing it again, and glancing up to you once more.

You moved aside, leaning against the wall beside the window - it had become such a habit, every part of this so completely routine, that you could practically time it. Without looking, you knew he was pulling himself up with that first branch, scaling the short span of the tree’s trunk, testing if the second branch would hold his weight (it always did), and –...

He hauled himself through the window, and made his, as always, rather graceless entrance. You weren’t sure there was any way to make a graceful entrance through a second-story window that hadn’t been replaced since before you were born.

“You’re gonna break your neck one of these days.” You scolded him as he bent down to take his boots off – ever the gentleman, not wanting to track mud through the rest of the house – and set them aside. “I gave you a key for a reason.”

“Nah.” Was all he offered in response, though he shot you another brilliant grin as he shrugged out of his jacket, draping it over the top of your dresser – carefully avoiding the knick-knacks and picture frames there. “Gotta keep you on your toes. ‘Sides, this’s more fun.” He crossed the short distance between the two of you, enveloping you in a hug. 

There was something about Dean’s hugs – something you couldn’t quite place. It was almost desperate. Almost every interaction with him had an almost touch-starved quality – like he couldn’t get enough of even the most simple affection. You wondered about it sometimes, wondered why, but it didn’t seem right to pry. You certainly weren’t complaining, in any case.

“What’cha watchin’?” He mumbled into your hair. You’d almost forgotten the TV was even on, the volume having been low enough to be easily ignored, even before you paused it, especially with him standing there. You gave a halfhearted shrug, letting your arms tighten around his waist – for a moment, he just stood there, clutching fistfuls of the material of your shirt where it hung at your hips, his face buried in your hair.

“Doesn’t matter,” You inform him, the words muffled into his shoulder. “I was going to turn it off anyway.” It wasn’t like any cringe-worthy rom-com could compare to the scene you’d just witnessed – Dean Winchester, in all his ruggedly handsome glory, scaling a half-dead tree through a bedroom window that had seen far better days, all to hold you close. 

Nothing could compare to that. 

[madohomurat]

trans women are everywhere and are so eager to be seen and heard but only if they feel safe around you. if you hardly ever have trans women interacting with you, especially online, then consider there might be a reason for that and you should address it

[jay-wasstuff]

Source: Screen Rant

Phillip makes bread (get it?) for trophy husband Benoit

[bwooom]

READ MY WEBCOMIC

STOP MAKING ME LOOK AT SCREENCAPS FROM THAT VELMA SHOW !!! I WANT TO PRETEND IT DOES NOT EXIST AND YOU ARE MAKING IT SO DIFFICULT

[revvetha]

I am loved! 😊 [white knuckle gripping the sink unable to meet my own bloodshot eyes]

[shivunin]

Because I have just seen this specific thing for the second time, I would like to say:

If I reblog your art, I do not expect you to reblog (or share!) my fic in return

If I comment on your fic, I do not expect you to comment on (or read!) mine in return

My enjoyment of anyone's work does not come with strings or expectations

My friendship is not a bill that you will have to pay later

That's it!

[prince--kiriona]

vou começar a matar yanquis HOW do you miss the point of a book this badly

[arillustrated]

thinking about mizu from blue eye samurai. thinking. thinking so much. thinking about how mizu operates outside of gender. like we joke about her gender being revenge but straight up? it literally is. like she grew up as a boy and is most comfortable being a man, but behind that is the feeling of betraying himself because he isn't being honest about who he is and he lives in fear of being discovered. and when he lived as a woman, she found joy there as well. she fell in love, and though she wasn't good at it, she liked being a wife and enjoying a simple life. but in that life too, she isn't being honest about who she is. and when she reveals her true self, it's not a woman, she's a demon, a weapon. she's to masculine to be a woman, and too feminine to be a man. ultimately, mizu is most comfortable when they are being a murder machine. that's when they feel they are being the most true to themself. like a sword, they are neither man nor woman, but a blend of both, which makes them stronger.

[mumblesplash]

part 2!!!! [read part one here]

transcript below the cut arranged into stanzas to help show where the rhymes are:

“that’s why they brought gem in? as a failsafe?” as a pawn. we were told to point her at whoever we need gone

“gem won’t hurt her allies. …yet.” the curse she carries will it’s had its eye on her since she lost the other eye she was specially selected for her hunting skill it’s quite the high honor. “wow. how generous.” we try

think about it: why does almost no one fight the curse? “given how fast scott killed skizz last season, i can guess.” [“any pain you spare your friends, you’ll have to suffer worse”?] it’s designed to shut down higher reasoning with stress

[anghraine]

I know I've ranted about it a million times, but every time someone brings up Roman, Byzantine, and Egyptian inspirations/influences on Gondor in more mainstream Tolkien fandom spaces (not me, because I don't even talk about it off Tumblr/DW), it seems like there's always someone who gets super weird and defensive about it. I've seen so many "well actually there's no need to consider any influences outside of England, mythology for England blah blah" responses.

And it's like! Oh, you want to play the decontextualized Tolkien quotes game? How about this one:

“But this [the setting of LOTR] is not a purely 'Nordic' area in any sense. If Hobbiton and Rivendell are taken (as intended) to be at about the latitude of Oxford, then Minas Tirith, 600 miles south, is at about the latitude of Florence [in Italy]. The Mouths of Anduin and the ancient [Gondorian] city of Pelargir are at about the latitude of ancient Troy [in Turkey]. Auden has asserted that for me 'the North is a sacred direction.' That is not true. The North-west part of Europe, where I (and most of my ancestors) have lived, has my affection, as a man’s home should. I love its atmosphere, and know more of its histories and languages than I do of other parts; but it is not ‘sacred’, nor does it exhaust my affections. I have, for instance, a particular love for the Latin language, and among its descendants for Spanish ... The progress of the tale ends in what is far more like the re-establishment of an effective Holy Roman Empire with its seat in Rome than anything that would be devised by a 'Nordic.'”

Or this one:

we come [in ROTK] to the half-ruinous Byzantine City of Minas Tirith

Or:

In the south Gondor rises to a peak of power, almost reflecting Númenor, and then fades slowly to decayed Middle Age, a kind of proud, venerable, but increasingly impotent Byzantium.

Or:

The Númenóreans of Gondor were proud, peculiar, and archaic, and I think are best pictured in (say) Egyptian terms. In many ways they resembled ‘Egyptians’ - the love of, and power to construct, the gigantic and massive. And in their great interest in ancestry and in tombs. […] I think the crown of Gondor (the S. Kingdom) was very tall, like that of Egypt, but with wings attached, not set straight back but at an angle. The N. Kingdom had only a diadem (III 323). Cf. the difference between the N. and S. kingdoms of Egypt.

Or:

Thank you very much for your letter. … It came while I was away, in Gondor (sc. Venice), as a change from the North Kingdom

Middle-earth is not equivalent to England, or northern Europe in general, and Gondor especially is not northern at all!

[tangyyrine]

Spoilers for the Book of Bill

Been seeing a lot of people interpreting this as “Bill and Ford had drunk birthday dream sex” and honestly I can see why lmao 💀

[castielsprostate]

breaking the sign in two by how hard im tapping it

[brucewaynehater101]

Alright. Willis Todd being an abusive father to Jason is a trope often utilized. Comparing this version of him to Bruce's reactions to Red Hood is fantastic. Lots to analyze there.

However, I raise you. There needs to be more fanwork addressing the classism behind Willis Todd being characterized as an abusive alcoholic. In some version of canon, Willis Todd was a good dad in a shitty situation. He was poor, his wife (Catherine) was sick, and he had a newborn baby he needed to provide for. In this horrid situation, where he has no family to fall back on and no higher education to obtain a decent well-paying job, he tries to get quick money. He's desperate to keep both his wife and son alive.

Catherine turns to drugs because it's easier and cheaper to buy drugs than healthcare. The pain she experiences is debilitating, and she'd do anything to not feel pain for one godsdamned second. Unfortunately, this turns into an addiction.

This ultimately shapes the way that Jason views crime. Bruce, while he may be sympathetic to individuals who resort to crime to pay their bills, will not understand huddling in Crime Alley in the dead of winter as he debates whether to buy food or pay for heating. He won't understand the bitterness, hatred, pain, and resignation of never having enough money to survive as you get chewed up again and again.

If Jason's dad is just an abusive criminal, that not only perpetuates the notion that all criminals are evil, but it will shape how Jason views those who commit crime. Breaking the law doesn't make someone bad. There's plenty of reasons people commit crime, whether to survive, protect someone, or something else. The issue, especially in Gotham, is the system that perpetuates wealth inequality through bribes and unethical governmental practices.

Anyway, I think Jason's Red Hood is more fleshed out if it accounts for him acknowledging the desperation behind goons and small-time criminals because he grew up without other options.

[cubbyyyy]

Neil is there to protect the one who protects them all.

Andrew always knew how to protect. He sure has his own ways that many fail to understand but the bottom line stays the same.

With Neil coming into his life he gets to be something else than just the protector - which I want to talk about here.

The exy obsessed junkie who claims to only care about his own survival is the first one who sees beyond Andrews play - who sees that Andrew doesn’t take care of himself at all. Too busy keeping an eye on everyone to care about what happens to his own self. And Neil hates it furiously.

So Neil puts Andrew first.

Starting with his health. Exy is important to Neil but he knows Andrew needs to get off the drugs first. The foxes found it easier to deal with Andrew while he’s on drugs, so they didn’t put much effort into changing that - Neil though. Neil saw what the drugs did to Andrew. So they had to get rid off it as fast as possible.

So he makes a deal. He gives up a piece of a truth, gives a promise and makes him go take care of himself.

He punches Riko because he couldn’t stop himself.

He agrees to go to Evermore - he agrees to torture just to keep Andrew save.

Afterwards he refuses to back down his care after being explicitly told to. “If it means loosing you then no”.

After being brutally tortured, one of the first things he does is inspecting Andrews bruises. Inspecting Andrews bruises the same way Andrew inspects his. “All that time fighting and you never learned how to duck?”

He told the cops off when they indicated getting Andrew off him “you’ll what, asshole?”

He was there in a heartbeat the second Andrew got pushed in the final game. And only backed off after checking Andrew was really alright.

For the first time Andrew has someone who has his back the same way he had the backs of everyone else for years. Andrew is fiercely protective and for the first time he is fiercely protected too.

“You are a pipe dream.”

[litriu]

Chew You Up And Spit You Out

[fortruthoversolace]

Palamedes could only stick around because he planned for it in advance. The Canaan House servants were called back and bound to skeletons. This level of persistence in a revenant is remarkably rare and is usually intentional. So how does Wake do it?