#sorry to highjack.

[door]

oh this is so cool. so this bed was designed by Edgard Sforzina, who also designed the rest of gershwin's apartment at 33 riverside dr in new york. i had never heard of sforzina and neither had anybody else apparently, because he died suddenly in 1941 and was promptly forgotten (i guess some other stuff happened around then). he was born in france and immigrated to the us in 1923 after being transferred to new york by his firm. he lived and worked in the us for the rest of his life.

in 2019, his granddaughter approached the art deco society of washington, dc with the entirety of his papers and they, along with a former curator at the building museum (also in dc) processed them, eventually putting on an exhibition in his honor. they also published a book, which i have in my grubby lil hands.

it includes images of gershwin's apartment which were published in country life in 1932, as well as soooooooo many sketches.

he was a graphic designer and left behind textile designs, architecture drawings, interior elevations, and LOTS of furniture designs. he was clearing riffing on some of the same ideas as other designers of the time (look up paul frankl's skyscraper furniture for similar and less symmetrical designs like that bed), but also clearly was bringing his own dialect to them. truly an incredible addition to decorative arts academia!

Kittyinva: 1928 Daybed from the apartment of George Gershwin. From Ken Nailon, Facebook.

[allgremlinyaps]

drew @ranilla-bean's ocs from their fic The Iconoclast because oh no I've become so terribly charmed by them.. also it was just a fun design challenge for myself

[kingofanemptyworld]

.5 seconds of Grimmjow content… god I’m going to be insufferable when he shows up again for good

[wingstobetorn]

“Shinobu was the sweetest ever! she was so kind and nice and and and” DID WE READ THE SAME MANGA. HOW DO YOU MISS THE POINT OF A CHARACTER THAT BAD.

[ilickedyoursaltlamp]

May I add, when you have the energy and desire and resources to do the task, and you still can’t do it. Because you WON’T feel better.

This was something I learned about myself very recently.

Back in middle school, I used to let schoolwork pile up and pile up and pile up, because I just couldn’t do it. I was undiagnosed back then, but I knew something was wrong. So it was a repeating cycle of schoolwork piling up, hiding it from my parents, my parents getting angry, and me being punished. And y’know, at the end of the cycle when the punishment and schoolwork were done, of course I felt better. I was relieved.

I got diagnosed in high school and I’m in college now. Last semester, I completed an assignment for a class outside my major, and felt Nothing. I did the task, the task was done on time and well. And I felt nothing. I had this epiphany where suddenly everything made sense. I never felt better because I completed the tasks, I felt better because I let stress build and the relief of the stress going away was what felt good.

I told my mom about this, who had recently gotten her own ADHD diagnosis, and she was like “Yep, I’ve been there”, and I was like. Mom, that’s a symptom.

Of course I can’t get the task done. A “normal” brain rewards you for doing it. Executive dysfunction doesn’t. Why would you ever do the task when you get nothing out of it?

people who dont experience it cannot comprehend how awful executive dysfunction is. I WANT to do the task, i have the resources TO do the task, i will feel better having DONE the task

but i cant fucking do the task

[natsunes]

im sorry but this joke from yo ni mo kimyou na monogatari 2013 kills me every time. the guy on the plane who responds when asked if anyone on the plane is an anaesthesiologist (masuii) and ends up participating in emergency surgery despite actually being a manga editor. hes just called masui. its his name. nothing can convey the emotion of tada no masui da (pictured above)

[silvyysthings]

omg, not them trying to highjack the ceremony again with that kiss. The most satisfying thing though is like BAFTAs said ‘No, not on my watch’ 🤣😂 literally, no one was having it - everyone was looking elsewhere. Pathetic fail at pda again - I feel this one served them right 🤣 (or more Kris/KJ). Sorry, Kylie dear no one cares about your ass over here 😂

😄😄😄😄😄

I can't

[moon-meerkat]

ex-almost-girlfriend

a character type i'm really into is the ex-something - exile, obviously, but also anyone who used to have a role that was also an identity and now does not: ex-mage, ex-assassin, ex-monarch --

it's about loss of identity and recreation of identity; it's about how being an ex-something is impossible because the ghost of what you were haunts what you are now; it's about reshaping the way you see the world and yourself in the world.

[alexaloraetheris]

So my post about mold BLEW up (sorry @homunculus-argument for highjacking your post 😅) so now I'm sweating not just because I did minimal research for recreating that protocol and noticed some mistakes (I'll correct them in the second part) and also some people took it way too seriously than it was intended, and apparently someone got the idea to ACTUALLY TRY AND MAKE PENICILIN WITH IT???

(The American healthcare system continues to scare me.)

I thought it would be best to outright say DO NOT DO THAT. This was a fun thought experiment in case of time travel, I thought I didn't need to say that this is, at most, a fun little guide for writers who didn't have a background in science but wanted to write a plausible explanation how someone could get away with recreating a 'panacea' in the time before germ theory. THAT'S IT. This is not a recipe for making at-home antibiotics, holy crap. Penicilin goes through a shitton of testing and purification, in a proper lab with proper equipment, by people who studied for this specifically, and is concentrated into a proper dosage by pharmacists and perscribed by doctors. Even if you did everything right down to isolation DOSAGE ABSOLUTELY MAKES THE POISON HERE, actually trying this out and consuming it COULD GET YOU KILLED.

DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME, PLEASE.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Place in the Sun 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Nick Fowler

Summary: Trouble in the big city follows you back to your sleepy village home.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You’ve been to the city once in your life. Your parents were never really well off. Your dad works at the lumberyard, still, and your mom sells some crochet gloves and hats here and there, or tailor a few pieces for the neighbours for a buck or two. It isn’t much but they work hard and you can’t want for much. Life is simple but not unhappy. 

Your second trip to the city isn’t much different than your first. You were a kid then and only came with your dad so he could get new work boots. You don’t remember much except for the very tall people and the honking cars. Now, it’s just as chaotic and you feel just as small, but you’re all by yourself. 

There’s a gathering at the mall. You’ve never been to a mall. They don’t have any of those in Hammer Ford. As you steer the beaten-up Bronco into the lot, you shift the stick and check your mirrors. The cars here are all tiny compared to the mammoth truck you borrowed from your dad. He only let you take it after you filled the tank, and with a little coaxing from your mom. 

You don’t see why it’s a big deal. You’re an adult. You make your own money. Enough to help out. You do what you can with your seasonal pay but they don’t need a custodian at the school when there’s no classes. 

Still, you scrounged enough for the collector’s edition. You pre-ordered and everything. It’s so limited they only let people pick it up in-store. 

You park and shut off the engine. You watch a group of teenage girls giggling as they enter the mall. You should’ve brought some friends but you don’t have many of those. Everyone you knew in high school is married or busy growing up. There is that girl you see now and again, she lives with her grandma, but she’s always got her head down. She’ll see you waving one day. 

You open the door and hop down. As you do, the keys jangle out of your grasp and hit the pavement. You huff dramatically and swing the door shut. You go to grab the keyring but it’s swiped up by someone else. You stand and face the man as he holds them out. 

He’s taller than you and older. You think. He has the boldest blue eyes you’ve ever seen and a shadow of stubble across his square jaw. His hair is neatly trimmed and he wears a dark blue suit with a white button-up. He outshines your brown khaki skirt and gingham blouse. 

“Oh, hi, thank you, sir,” you chime, “clumsy me!” 

He nods and narrows his eyes, “keep those close. Someone else might just run off with the truck.” 

“Ha, this beat up old elephant,” you take the keys and slap the side of the Bronco, “I doubt it, but thank you, sir. I appreciate it.” 

You smile brightly but he hardly seems impressed. More confounded. His mouth slants and his eyes roll to the side. 

“Another piece of advice,” he intones as he leans towards you, “don’t smile at strangers.” 

“Oh, uh,” your mouth straightens, “right. Sorry, sir.” 

His brows rise and fall but he doesn’t reply. He brushes by you and you turn to watch him go. Your ma warned you that city folk weren’t very friendly. You spin back and lock the truck up, taking his warning to heart. You never know and your dad would never forgive you if someone did decide to highjack the rusting beast. 

You head towards the mall and follow a rabble of children with their moms into the air-conditioned space. It’s nice compared to the thick humidity outside. You think back to that man and wonder how he could be wearing a jacket in all this. He must be on the way to somewhere important. 

You look around, your heart pumping as the bright marquees and shining shop windows refract through your lenses. Oof, you didn’t expect it to be so big! You search around, walking along with your knitted purse clutched tight. Oh, a map! 

You go over to the touch screen directory and search for the bookstore. Right, a left and then straight, and another left. You recite the directions to yourself over and over as you continue on. You barely dodge out of the way of your fellow mall patrons as the criss cross the wide hallways and mill outside the booths and windows. 

Finally, you spot the familiar logo of the bookstore. You only really see it on a screen but you know it well. You stroll in through the broad open archway at the front and once more, you’re struck by the flurry of activity and expanse of the space. You trail after a pair of girls toward the service desk, delineated by the floating sign above. 

You bounce on your feet as you join the queue. You overhear the girls talking about the same book you’re there for. You curiously lean forward to eavesdrop and the redhead cranes to glare at you. You retract and give an apologetic look. You weren’t snooping, you’re just excited. 

When it’s your turn at the counter, you give your name and wait. A figure approaches the next till and sighs. You glance up at the sign; Returns/Exchanges. It’s the man in the blue suit. He taps a plastic card on the wooden countertop. 

As the associate searches for your order, you stare over at his agitated expression. He doesn’t seem very happy. His blue eyes drift and he meets your gaze. His cheek dimples in recognition. 

You give a small wave and smile and he shakes his head. He turns back to the till as a woman nears the other side. 

“Back,” he flicks the card up between his fingers, “should be the one I paid with.” 

You return your attention to the order counter. You shouldn’t be so nosy. You’re there to get your book and go. Oh, and maybe a soft pretzel at that place you saw on the way in. It’s a good day and you’re going to enjoy it. You peek over once more as the man snarls at the credit card machine. You hope his gets better too. 

[glitter-stained]

Going from detailed outline to full text when you're writing a fic is so funny because the story I've alread written keeps fucking happening to me

Like what do you mean it has a point? When the fuck did that story about misunderstandings and trauma and making fun of the batfam for making assumptions while also feeling sorry for them turn into asking uncomfortable questions about my career choices ? Where did that Diana/Cass parallel come from? Why is my therapist highjacking my story???!!

[whatsourmotto]

Jumping on the highjacked helo silly theories bandwagon

Imagine a "A needs to convey to B that Something is Wrong" thing, BuckTommy style.

Tommy is held hostage and given the opportunity to get a last call.

***

He knows that at this time of the week and day, Buck is probably eating dinner with Athena and Bobby. And even though they haven't talked for weeks, since Tommy fled Buck's building, he's probably the one person witty enough to get it without forcing Tommy to raise suspicion. 

So he thumbs in Buck's number -which he deleted to stop himself from writing useless apologies and rereading months of Buck's random facts sent during long shifts- but unfortunately, or fortunately, knows by heart.

Buck answers after what feels like a hundred rings, meaning he either stared at the caller's name for a long time debating wether to even answer or had to find a quiet place to talk.

Tommy is sorry in advance for the mind games but as soon as the call connects, he says in the most cheery voice he can muster : "Hi, honey". There's a hurt laugh, or cry, that makes Tommy bites the inside of his cheek not to react to.

"Uh... Hi?" Tommy can vividly picture Evan's frown. "...What the fuck, Tommy?" His voice breaks a little in the middle there, and Tommy smiles so he doesn't cry.

***

It's not that I want to stop there but I'm too tired to write the level of double-entendre I would like this conversation to have.

[flyingcatstiel]

I’m currently reading superbat fics (sorry, destiel, stony and dinluke, I’ll get back to you some day) and I’m having great time with commenting and authors replying to me. It’s a whole new fandom experience when I can read fics just for personal enjoyment, without planning fic rec lists. So much easier to comment, wtf. Anyways, I’m following 4 superbat identity p*rn fics right now, and it’s glorious. What a feast. My favorite trope, so many interesting ways to explore it. Happy holidays to all superbat writers but especially those 4 WIP writers🎄

ETA - here be some recs

ETA, March 2024 - HERE BE SOME UPDATES!

@pinkb00bsocks asked about those 4 WIPs. Here they are! The usual disclaimer - there are plenty of excellent superbat WIPs going on right now, but I've limited spoons and these are the ones I currently enjoy.

The World and All Its Hedgehogs by Ginevra_Benci [M. 8,007 word count, WIP, 4/?] To investigate illegal arms sale taking place at a tropical resort hotel, Batman goes under cover as a vacuous billionaire Brucie Wayne and Superman takes a part time job as a porter. They didn't coordinate this, they don't know each others civilian identities. Every time they talk there are at least 3 different conversations going on and it is glorious. Also, so much lust. ;)

(Also, check out Interviewing & Counceling series by the same author. Clark is having a superhero identity crisis and Bruce is there to catch Clark gently as he spirals down. It has one of the softest identity reveals in superbat fics. ETA - the series is now complete, it has 5 parts and 18k word count. Awesome ending to the softest identity reveal story)

Watching Our Stars Align by ClarkeStetler [M, 28,840 word count, WIP, 7/14] There's a dating/chatting app only for superheroes and all identities are secret. What could go wrong? Bruce and Clark get matched under their new pseuds, and same happens to Tim Drake and Conner Kent. Now fathers and sons gotta navigate complicated relationships that come with secret identities and judging your coworkers hastily while talking heart to heart to anonymous superhero. The identity porn part happens through DM, which just happens to be another favorite trope of mine. [The story is going strong, it has 10/14 chapters now and a wonderful tangle of 3 secret identities!]

(Love) Triangles Have Multiple Centers by frozenpotions [T, 27,281 word count, WIP, 4/10] This fic wastes no time getting playboy billionaire Brucie Wayne and pining-after-his-coworker journalist Clark Kent together. After that, first time uneasy partners Batman and Superman gotta solve a case and their civilian selves gotta deal with the realities of their one night stand. Complicated doesn't even cover it! [The fic is being updated and Clark and Bruce are being put through new trials, 6/10 chapters]

A Favor for a Friend by RedFive [Explicit, 18,286 word count, WIP, 4/7] Omega verse fic with alpha playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne and omega journalist Clark Kent. I'm fascinated by dominant, flirtatious, sexually ravenous alpha Brucie Wayne who moonlights as a stoic, covered in scent blockers thus unclear second gender, Batman. Meanwhile omega Clark, due to being Kryptonian, is much less ruled by his second gender. That is, until he meets Mr. Wayne. This fic has so much lust and tension between the two. Does accidental heat triggering counts as a soulmate mark? I'm gonna count it like that. [The fic has entered the finish line, only a chapter or two are left to finish this wild, explosive, life changing story of two people who were meant for each other. 8/? chapters, 44k word count] The fic is now complete!!! 9 chapters, 56,153 word count. (Also, there's this new TV show about two gay dudes, and istg, they look like Bruce and Clark from this fic. I'm not naming it here because I don't want to highjack the show tag with superbat post, but go and check the tag on tumblr)

*****

And a special shout out to two identity shenanigan WIPs that are not actively updating but are absolute must reads.

ship-to-ship combat by pomeloquat [M, 62,737 word count, WIP, 12/13] OK, so, for me personally, this is the ultimate identity p*rn fic across all fandoms I've read so far. This fic has one of the highest amount of secret identity pairs in superbat fics. There's the usual pining silently Batman/Superman, then there's Clark dating Bruce, Superman saving Bruce Wayne from peril, Clark Kent chatting with Batman. And the cherry on top is Clark writing Bruceman fanfic which is basically a RPF of his two friends, Batman and Bruce Wayne. Which leads to an internet friendship with a fellow fan, who is, you guessed, Bruce. This fic has great reflections on fandom and shipping culture. But the very beating heart of this fic is about how easy it is to lose something you wished to have but were afraid to ask for. The fic, at 12/13, is technically a WIP, but the main reveal is already done, and it is glorious. ETA - THIS IS NOT A DRILL, the fic is finished and the last chapter is a super meta cherry on a top of delicious, layered superhero identity and fandom shenanigans parfait. 13 chapters, 76,7k word count.

10 Things Every Brucie Fan Needs in Their Life by pomeloquat [T, 8,956 word count, WIP, 5/10] The main premise of this fic is hilarious and yet so, so right. Bruce Wayne is promoting himself as a nation's boyfriend instead of a playboy, and is making bank out of his wholesome, PG rated merchandise. The chapters of this fic tell continuous story but they also can be read as separate vignettes, so there's really no cliffhanger. This fic is so soft and fluffy, it will heal your soul. Also, Superman has celebrity crush on Bruce Wayne. Batman is amused.

[rei-ismyname]

HOUSE OF XCII Highlights

Towards the end of Krakoa the novel idea of a mini speed running the era in X-Men 92/TAS-style came together and it was pretty fun. Krakoa was full of characters that just didn't exist in 92 (or were dead, so some fancy footwork was required to dunk it in nostalgia while maintaining continuity and entertaining.

Assault on the Master Mold

These 90s mutants were wise enough to bring Magneto on the Mother Mold assault, and after everyone dies he easily crushes the base into nothing. Seriously, just send him in first. This base was actually a bunch of X-Men enemies like Trask and Wolverine spent too long quipping at him to prevent him pressing a single button - activating the ORCHIS protocols.

The Five resurrect folks with clothes on! Makes sense - 92 was way less horny than Krakoa (and was a children's cartoon.) Chuck is lying here. MotherMold destroyed, but they really needed to stop that button being pressed. How do they know about ORCHIS?

Everyone's fave mallrat

This lady. Jubilee has Moira's resurrective immortality abilities and she's hiding in a metal shack in a very public space on Krakoa. Her secret of not being dead etc will surely be uncovered soon. Also, Logan is literally standing outside it sniffing. Send him to stab a single feeble middle-aged man and he's useless, but he will sniff out your secrets just for kicks. Anyway, Moira Jubilee is pissed off at the helmet bros for Logan's blunder.

RADICAL! I like these data pages for how much work they do and the cowabunga style. I feel sorry for The Five having to work with Fabian Cortez though. These jokes are awful too.

If you kill your enemies, they stop being a problem.

X of Swords is recognisable but is over quickly. Arkon is the provocateur but Genesis here cuts his head off and reveals it was all her doing. To test Krakoa or something. She looks ridiculous. Just don't think about how much of Apocalypse's physicality is due to Celestial enhancements and what Genesis looking identical implies.

Ayyy, Polaris' hair is green!

Beast was one of the folks that died in X of Swords, and the Otherworld caveat applies to resurrection plus they become evil and immune to telepathy. Dark Beast comes back and highjacks all Sinister's schemes. Also, the first X-Men vote happens at the gala! I think that's Sunfire.

Yeah let's dig up Cody. See what that MF has to say.

Okay yeah there's confirmation. There's a lot of Easter eggs in 92, most of which are funny. Revealing what Logan is pissed off about would spoil the twist, but he's being a possessive dick over Jean. Scott is like 'she is a big girl who can make her own choices.' Sabertooth is doing his best to ruin everything.

They have Nimrod issues here too. I got a kick out of the setup wizard.

The coward dog Logan

Hard to believe this bunch of losers could cause Krakoa trouble, but you know the saying 'the X-Men always lose.'

The Inner Circle is the Quiet Council and this is their mixtape. Achy Breaky Heart? Come on! All in all it's a pretty funny mini. Definitely worth a read. The beats from the First Krakoan Age are all there but remixed into something a little different.

[ladywynne]

⬆️ @mad-as-a-box-of-frogs I agree. However, I think we met Layla during a very stressful time for all involved. She justifiably had her walls up. She was set on an urgent mission, and yet we still see her curious and accepting of Steven (once she understands). We still see her reaching out to Marc. We see her struggle and get a hint of her past. She seems to be established as a full partner with Marc in terms of his adventures rather than a mother hen, but she does clearly hold the brain cell. Anyway, more could always be done. Personally, I would be fascinated to see the fallout from season 1 and/or how Layla developed as a young woman and her prior relationship with Marc.

this has been discussed before but reducing female characters to the girlboss braincell holder in the name of combating misogyny in fandom is ironically also a form of misogyny

[call-me-liquid]

Okay, buds. Buddies. Buddos. Friendos. Frenimies. Frovers.

I'm not writing these big ass blog multiposts because I like the sound my keyboard makes when I tap the keys. I'm trying to mainline you all the important info about Canadian politics and government so you can UNDERSTAND the bullshit Lily's talking.

I know, you freedom-heads down south, if Lily was American, what she said would have made sense. Your system of governance works one way, and you salute the flag and praise Jesus every day while shooting your guns in the air and giving Mount Rushmore a good ol' merican bukkake facial.

I'm trying to explain to you that Lily is in fact, not American. She's (regrettably) one of our kind. She lives under Canadian laws and a Canadian system of governance. (Even if she, apparently, wishes she was American. And thinks she is.)

Everyone keeps asking me why I keep calling Lily an Ameriboo. I'm trying to explain it. In my next post, I'm going to be going over how the House of Commons ACTUALLY works, and explaining to you why, a lot of the progressive policy Lily is laying at the feet of SOLELY Trudeau-senpai's glorious liberal paradise is REALLY NOT HIS DOING in the way she's characterized it.

Canada's democratic system is still a representative democracy, but it's closer to a direct democracy than America's is. Most of the developed world is. America's a bit of a special snowflake-- in a lot of ways.

Some of you seem to be getting VERY DISTRACTED by the fact that I'm a socialist. I have made no secret of my own political bias, but I've tried to make it as clear as possible when I'm stating my own opinion and when I'm trying to describe-- just, factual information. If you don't trust my description of Canadian politics because of my own political leanings-- fine. Okay. Fair enough, I suppose.

I really don't need you spamming my anons about it. I don't give a fuck. "Commie scum, don't you know, feelz over realz, constitution, second ammendment, we pledge our allegiance to the flag." Okay, I get it, you're American and you think the whole world is too.

So does Lily. She's wrong. You can be wrong with her all you like. Please, do it somewhere else. On your own blog even.

I've heard so many of you say, "Lily, you're not American. Stop talking about American politics." And though I agree with that, it's really SOMETHING so many of you have turned around to start burgersplaining at me when I know all of you know LESS about Canadian Parliament than Lily knows about America.

Lily's rant about, "oh stupid socialists stop squabbling about theory when Daddy Trudeau's doing all this good" DOES NOT HOLD WATER HERE. I'm TRYING to explain to you WHY. She's strawmanning the conversation around how Trudeau has ran parliament. I get it, no one knows shit about Canada. THAT'S WHY I'M TRYING TO EXPLAIN IT TO YOU.

American liberals-- I got no beef with you. You're shadowboxing ghosts. YES, your country is more right-wing than mine. Your country is very right-wing compared to a lot of countries. MY country is right-wing compared to a lot of other countries.

I'm sorry it's triggered you that just, objectively, the old guard of the Conservative Party of Canada was more or less aligned with your Democrats. That's really not my fault, though.

At least let me finish before telling me to go comrad myself.

Never would have imagined that "Lily is a buzzfeed-style fake feminist" and just DESCRIBING what a Tory was before maple-maga highjacked the conservative party would have been the most controversial hottakes of this blog.