#three people will get this but

[lochlanratliff]

okay but eloise is rhaenyra, benedict is daemon (also both bi kings), penelope is her more marriage minded, less socially/politically powerful, more feminine homoerotic best friend (alicent), colin is viserys, the latter two of whom’s betrothal she feels betrayed by…

[c-rowlesdraws]

Hey tumblr.

I want to share a post from The Guardian that was published today.

“Inside the building, staffers said that Doge cultivated a culture of fear.

“It’s an extreme version of ‘who do you trust, when and how?’” said Kristina Drye, a speechwriter at the agency, who watched dozens of senior colleagues escorted out of the building by security. “It felt like the Soviet stories that one day someone is beside you and the next day they’re not.”

People started meeting for coffee blocks away because “they didn’t feel safe in the coffee shops here to even talk about what’s going on”, she added.

“I was in the elevator one morning and there was an older lady standing beside me and she had glasses on and I could see tears coming down under her glasses and before she got off her elevator she took her glasses off, wiped her eyes, and walked out,” she said. “Because if they see you crying, they know where you stand.””

Everyone should read this article about “DOGE” tearing apart USAID (and then read more reporting about how they are being allowed to do the same to other US federal entities). Elon Musk and his minions are violating our highest laws and destroying lives and livelihoods in the US and abroad. USAID is less than 1% of the federal budget— this isn’t about cost-cutting or “investigating fraud”. It’s about cruelty and seeing how much unlawful devastation and psychological warfare they can get away with, with the intention to repeat this process at one federal agency after another. They already have access to IT systems at the Treasury, NOAA, and other agencies, and have taken over OPM (essentially HR for the federal government), using the latter to send demeaning and threatening e-mail blasts to civil servants.

I’m urging everyone who reads this to recognize what’s happening here and how abhorrent and frightening it is. I wager that even most people who wanted Trump back didn’t want a centibillionaire technocrat making unilateral decisions on which parts of the federal government to “feed into the wood chipper” (as he has described his team’s actions at USAID in a recent post on X, The Everything App).

Please call your elected representatives and urge them to act against Musk now— before his actions make our legislative branch totally irrelevant.

I’ve been seeing posts about Musk’s coup-in-progress going around on here, but I feel like a lot of people still aren’t aware of the extent of it, and I really want to help get the word out. I’m heartsick for all the civil servants at USAID and beyond. Some of them, their unions, and some Democratic congresspeople and others are speaking out, but these workers need us everyday Americans to speak out for them, too.

Thank you for reading. And anyone who isn’t American, please keep us in your thoughts.

[starbuck]

i say i like tragedies and everyone’s all like ‘why do you like sad stories? are you depressed?’ and never ‘how was the catharsis? was the catharsis fun?’

[paracosmicka]

have doodle lol

functionally, i am alive, emotionally?? idk about that work has me crying almost everyday now chat idk if i can do this anymore

[coulsonlives]

"Wah, why aren't fandoms fun anymore?"

Because you keep policing people's headcanons, making fun of them and calling them horrible things, and on top of that, you're somehow claiming to be a safe space for people to express their creativity, yet turning around and harassing them anyways because you've made a billion exceptions to the "don't police people" rule and you think, like everyone else who's made their own exceptions, that your exceptions justify harassment.

So you're making fandom into a field of rat traps where nobody even dares interact with anyone, or shares art anymore, because you still might just attack them for it because they did something as simple as writing a canonically soft character as... a softie.

Let people do their "cringe" y/a romances, let people do their "gross" ships, let people write those characters as jerks or softies. Let them, and mean it when you say you'll let them, instead of soapboxing about it in a patronizing post but not really meaning what you're soapboxing about.

[cursedcola]

I don’t think we talk enough about Yuus who actually have lives back in their world, and are genuinely freaking out about being stuck at NRC. Just imagine them lore bombing the cast because no one ever asks about their homelife. So it’s just random moments of yearning for home until evidently Crowley gets off his rocker and does his job.

————

*having tea at heartslabyul before everyone goes on break*

Yuu: “I miss my mom. This is holiday season back where I’m from…man, this sucks” *sulks and eats tart*

Deuce: You have parents?

Cater: You miss your family???

Riddle: Must be nice.

————

Yuu: *sigh*

Grim: ….

Yuu: *siiiiigh*

Grim: ……….

Yuu: *SIIIIIIIIGH*

Grim: MRAH ALRIGHT ALREADY. WHAT DO YA WANT?

Yuu: I miss my husband. I wonder what he’s doing right now. All I have of him here is my wedding band….I just want to see him.

*proceeds to admire a wedding band they had hidden under their uniform gloves*

Ace+Deuce: YOU’RE MARRIED???? HOW OLD ARE YOU???

Grim: Aye lets pawn that for dorm funds

————

*at monstro lounge. jade’a trying to shove mushrooms down floyd’s gullet. The latter is fighting for his life*

Yuu: Slug em in the nads Floyd! Lesson one in human anatomy! Make em’ sing!

Azul: *appalled* can you not encourage them??? Aren’t you supposed to mediate disagreements?

Yuu: nah. You don’t get between siblings. That’s their beef. GET EM JADE, MAKE EM EAT HIS WEIGHT!

Azul: I take it you have siblings? - urk. Thank the sea witch I am an only child.

Yuu: *cheers when jade claims victory - at the expense of a now broken table* Be grateful it’s just the two. I have three and we once made a game out of sledding on concrete. News flash - the er visit cost quadruple that table

Azul: *proceeds to make medical investment plans*

———

Yuu: *crying*

Leona: The hell’s wrong with them now? *eyes ruggie*

Ruggie: *puts hands up* I didn’ do anything! I just swiped one of their cookies! I swear!

Yuu: *crying harder* It’s an oatmeal creme pie dammit! Y’all don’t know little debbie and it shows!

Leona: ….do i want to know?

Ruggie: *hands back the half eaten creme pie. Lowkey freaking out because Leona looks ready to whack him upside with a spelldrive disc* Here! Y’see? There’s still some…c’mon prefect. Ya can stop crying now. I’ll get Trey to make ya another. Just take a breath.

Yuu: *sobs while eating. Doesn’t know whether to be upset because the creme pie is gone, or because trey’s tastes better than little debbie. So it’s still not the same* I hate you all.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

class swap design masterpost for convenience (from top to bottom: bard!riz, cleric!gorgug, sorcerer!kristen, barbarian!fig, artificer!adaine, and rogue!fabian)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Ghouls night out

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[stil-lindigo]

ARTISTS FOR PALESTINE 🇵🇸 - ROUND 3!! On the 26th April and 3rd of May, I'll be doing art requests on stream with other notable artists to raise money for Palestinian escape funds.

This round's roster is very lucky to include returning artists including webcomic artist Graveweaver (I'm The Grim Reaper), @wolfythewitch, Cuptoast, Denimcatfish and more.

If you won't be able to make it to the streams but would still like to donate money, you can find a spreadsheet with hundreds of escape funds listed here. Alternatively, you could donate to one of three funds that I am focusing a lot of my efforts on.

Donate to Anwar's family (€8,000 from escaping) Donate to Thaer’s fund (€7,000 from escaping) Donate to Salwa Al-Shandagha ($9,000 from escaping)

As always, these fundraiser streams will always be available to watch over on my twitch channel here. Hope to see some of you there!

[libraryofgage]

After checks calendar 84 years, I am once again offering Smart Steve content lmao

Listen the writer's block has been hitting recently if you couldn't tell, but I'm still happy with how this came out.

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't :P

----

So.

Steve Harrington is smart.

Like, smart smart.

Like, the kind of smart where he not only understands shit, he can explain complicated shit to Eddie without sending his brain into a coma.

It's been two weeks, and Eddie is still trying to come to terms with this discovery. He's four tutoring sessions in and a little spark of surprise still rocks him whenever Steve can easily explain a new topic using the stuff Eddie likes.

He explained velocity using D&D spells. He explained electrical circuits using the concept of plugging a guitar into an amp. After asking a few questions about Lord of the Rings, Steve Harrington managed to explain the in-depth concepts of magnetism using the fucking One Ring.

How the fuck is Eddie supposed to be normal about any of that? Ignoring the sheer fact that Steve is capable of it, how is Eddie supposed to feel about the...the willingness to learn what Eddie understands best and meet him on that level?

If the answer is awed and practically starstruck, he's ahead of the game.

"Hey, you doing okay? Kinda spacing out over there, man."

Eddie blinks, the textbook in front of him coming back into focus. Steve had been explaining the concept of momentum, but his words just floated in one ear and out the other because Eddie was once again consumed by the absurdity of the situation.

It's not like he can say that, though. So, instead, he settles for a grimace and pushes the textbook away. "I think I'm all fried out for physics," he says, looking up at Steve.

"Oh," Steve says, blinking a few times before nodding. "Yeah, sure, uh, sorry."

"Wait, what are you sorry about?"

Steve looks away, an awkward frown tugging at his lips. "I...probably wasn't explaining it too well, huh?"

"Woah, woah, no way," Eddie says, putting a stop to that train of thought before it can leave the station. He turns in his chair to face Steve directly, ignoring how the metal rod that attaches it to the desk digs painfully against his shin. "Listen, Stevie, I've never understood physics more than when you explain it. Like, I don't know, man, whatever you're doing works."

Steve must have been more worried than he let on, because Eddie can literally see the tension draining from his shoulders. "Great," he says, rubbing the back of his neck as he glances away. "Seriously, that's great. I'm glad nothing's been confusing."

"Yeah, so, nothing you did," Eddie says, feeling like he needs to reiterate that point to drive it home. "Honestly, you could probably even make me understand geometry. Not like our teacher is doing shit to help."

"Do you...not understand geometry?" Steve asks, looking a little unsure like he can't tell if that's a joke or Eddie's attempt at suggesting another class he needs help in. This one is a class they share, which means Steve will have seen Eddie's floundering attempts at answering questions, and he feels a whole new burn of embarrassment course through him.

"Do you?" Eddie asks in return.

"Yeah. It's just, like, angles and shit, man."

Eddie stares at him for a moment, eyes narrowing and trying to figure out if Steve is somehow, subtly, making fun of him. But of course he isn't. If Eddie has learned nothing else, it's that Steve doesn't ever think Eddie is actually stupid or deserving of ridicule. He just thinks Eddie hasn't been taught properly, which is more on the teacher than him.

After a moment, Eddie twists around to dig in his bag. He pulls out his geometry homework, slaps it on the desk, and gestures at the triangles and squares and other shapes with unidentified angles and side lengths. "I have literally no clue what the fuck is going on here," he says.

Steve moves closer, looking over the sheet with a slight frown. Eddie knows this face by now. It's the one Steve makes when he's searching for the relevant knowledge in his own brain, pulling it to the front so he can easily identify the gaps in Eddie's understanding. "So, how would you start?" Steve finally asks, offering his pencil.

Eddie takes it, twirls it between his fingers a few times, and looks over the questions. He eventually chooses one asking him to find the length of a side. "I know this one. It's the equation with the squares and shit," he says, carefully writing it out and plugging in numbers under the triangle.

"Right. Pythagorean theorem. A squared plus B squared equals C squared."

"Yeah. That," Eddie says, working through the math on a separate sheet of paper instead of in his head. He can do easy addition and subtraction, but one of the first things Steve did was get him used to using scratch paper. His brain doesn't feel quite as crowded by numbers anymore; now it's just crowded by the endless rotation of bites of knowledge and equations that have nothing to do with the work at hand. It's like his brain can recognize that it needs to remember something, but can't identify what exactly, so it just offers up everything.

When he's done, Eddie shows Steve his work, the answer circled at the bottom of the scratch paper. "Perfect," Steve says, flashing a smile that makes Eddie's heart lurch dangerously. "Okay, so that's solid. What about this one."

He points at a right triangle with only one angle listed and the other marked as unknown. "No fucking clue," Eddie says.

"This one is asking for the unknown angle. It'll just be some subtraction."

"It's only giving me one angle, Stevie," Eddie points out, gesturing to the angle marked as 53. "What the fuck do I do with that?"

"Well, the main thing is that a triangles angles will always add to 180. Also, this is a right triangle," Steve explains, taking the pencil from Eddie to circle the L-shaped corner of the triangle. "This angle will always be 90 degrees on right triangles. Should I keep going?"

"No," Eddie says slowly, drawing the word out as he takes the pencil back. "I'm starting to get it. Lemme try."

Steve waits patiently as Eddie hesitates before adding the angles together and subtracting that from 180. When he gets to a solution of 37, he gestures for Steve to check.

"That's right," Steve says, nodding as he points to another triangle on the sheet. "For this one, I'll teach you about the SOH CAH TOA trick."

Eddie nods, paying as much attention as he can, but he can't help feeling a little distracted by Steve's happy smile and relaxed posture. He's never seen Steve like this during class, and he's struck by the sudden notion that nobody else will see Steve like this, either.

------

When Steve gets home, he drops his bag in the hallway, grabs a soda from the kitchen, and collapses onto the couch.

A few National Geographic and Scientific American magazines are still spread out across the coffee table. A brief glance reminds Steve that none of the stories were particularly interesting in these editions.

He pops the tab on his soda, takes a sip, and glances at the phone on the end table next to him.

Steve had noticed something today. Eddie's shirt. Most of the band shirts Eddie wears are popular enough that Steve sort of knows them. Metallica, KISS, and AC/DC were recognizable since he's passed their albums on display in record stores.

Today's band, though. He didn't recognize that one. What the fuck was Manowar?

After a few seconds of thought, Steve reaches out and grabs the phone. He's just doing research. Wanting to understand the music Eddie likes is reasonable. That's how Eddie learns. There's no other reason for Steve dialing the number of an old classmate.

The phone rings a few times before picking up. "Amare residence," a girl says, sounding distracted.

"Hey, Dee. It's Steve."

"Hmm, Steve. Steve. ...Steeeeve. Oh, is this Steve Harrington, deserter of friends for the woes of public education?"

Despite everything, Steve can't help an amused smile. "Yeah, that Steve," he says. He doesn't apologize, since he knows that's not what she wants. If she was actually angry, she would've hung up.

"Well, how kind of you to grace me with your voice," Dee says, sounding distant like she's set the phone down. "I suppose I can give you until I finish braiding my hair."

"Great. You know about metal, right?"

"Like iron? Duh, Steve, I'm not thirteen."

"No, like, heavy metal."

"Iron is pretty heavy."

"Music, Dee. Heavy metal music."

"Oh! Aren't you a Tears for Fears kind of boy? What are you doing asking about heavy metal?"

Steve starts to answer but stops himself. He doesn't know why. Dee tutors kids all the time. Everyone in their private school group did. That's how they made money. She'd understand that he's trying to learn more about Eddie's interests for tutoring purposes.

So why can't he just say that?

"This long pause says you're thinking about lying to me," Dee says. "Don't bother, Steve."

"Well, I do want to know for the guy I'm tutoring. But not just because I'm tutoring him."

"Awww, are you trying to make a friend?" Dee teases.

Steve grimaces, wondering why his stomach twists slightly at the question. "Yeah, kind of. I want to know more about the stuff he likes. And he likes heavy metal. So, ya know, I thought of you."

"Well, you've come to the right place," Dee says. "And I love talking music, so I guess we can keep talking even after I'm done braiding."

A relieved smile tugs at Steve's lips. "Thanks, Dee, I appreciate it. So, first question, what's Manowar?"

-------

Tag List!

@estrellami-1, @ravenfrog,

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

different POV of this comic

x

[windybluebelles]

Duke: Awe look at us, it’s just you, me, and the literal manifestation of your childhood innocence.

Jason: 😐

JayBin: 😋

I need more fics where JayBin is a literal tiny ghost that Jason can see all the time, the others can see him every so often but they think he’s a hallucination, and Duke can see him due to his powers

Honestly any au where Duke can see ghosts is a win in my book.

[certainlyathrill]

is this anything beatle people?

[yandere-wishes]

OMG THE DAMIAN X CATGIRL ONE WAS SO GOOD I NEED CATWOMAN TO ADOPT A WHOLE LITTER. Soooo imagine AK Jason Todd with a catwoman of his own? Having fun until Jason got stuck and torture at the asylum, only to come back to find that Catwoman have Tim as the new Robin? 🥺.

Because seeing this it just fuels he's hate towards the new Robin for 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 HIS catwoman away. Pain to Batman, pain to the new Robin, and now he's bringing it to HER. Hey would she recognize him with the the helmet on? Who knows? 🤷‍♂️

This is an idea I want to write, love u wishes ❤️

NO CAUSE I'VE BEEN SO OBSESSED WITH THIS IDEA!!!!!! It is literally everything!! Poor Jason can't catch a break not only has Batman, his mentor, his father, replaced him! But you! The only girl he's ever loved, someone he's been connected to on such a spiritual level since taking up his mantle. Even you have forgotten him, even you have forsaken him! Oh yeah, definitely pain to reader 😠😠

I want you to be measurable too...

=ᗢ==ᗢ==ᗢ==ᗢ==ᗢ==ᗢ==ᗢ==ᗢ==ᗢ==ᗢ

He'd spent the better days of his boyhood, hanging by the thin metallic thread of a grappling hook. Swinging, feet first from rooftop to rooftop. Muscles taut, body coiled around the rope like a snake around a baobab tree.

He'd read The Little Prince last night, that's how he learned of such marvelous grandiose arbors. Trees that breach the mind, that grow tall enough to shadow Wayne Tower. We wonders if Bruce will take him to Africa one day, he wonders if his mentor will show him the baobab trees. If they'll feel cool and brambly under his palm.

Jason lands on the Museum's roof. Prying through the skylight watching as you kneel by your mentor, your mother. Greedily shoving colorful diamonds into fabric bags. Even in the dark, he's half mesmerized by the fluid motion of your body, the way your muscles flex so smoothly. His breath hitches in his throat too engrossed in the moment.

It's not the baobab trees that Jason thinks of when he sees you.

Instead, it's a rose. Not roses, plural, rose singular. As the rose the little prince had. The thing he cherished more than his own life. The thing he'd die for over and over again.

He hears Bruce land behind him. The moment gone evaporating like morning dew upon red petals. He straightens, ready, he has a job to do, a father to impress.

And maybe that book, that dreadful, wonderful book had been his first taste of bitter love. Through the pages and the words spoken between Prince and Rose, little Jason Todd had savored his first dose of obsession.

You kick him in the shoulder, sending him flying to the skyscraper edge. Jason swings himself up just as you are near to inspect your prey. His knees cage your hips and he uses all his force to push you down.

The stars blink overhead, paparazzi cameras catching a private moment between two masked kids. "Hello, Robin" you purr clawed gloves idly tracing his arm. Jason tries to smile to smirk, to flirt back."H-hello Ki-tty". But the blood rushing to his face has him stunned he can't breathe. Why do you look so pretty like this? Laying on your back staring up at him with big perfect eyes. You tilt your head and meow.

"Hey, that's Miss Kitty to you"...

He likes this new side of you, likes the mace you wield like a whip. It looks like yarn, soft and delicate.

The punchline lands at the same time as the flanged head crashes to his ribs. He thinks they shattered, cartilages cracking, freeing the marrow from within.

So this is what love feels like. Pain that rages from the inside sharp shards piercing soft organ tissue. So painful it tickles and you can feel the blood pooling in your mouth along with all the words you long to say.

No wonder the little prince kept going back to the rose. No wonder he found euphoria in the prick of her thorns.

He struggles to his feet and jumps, as high as he can. His side bruns begging him to stay down. Be he can't, he won't, Bruce wouldn't, and Alfred will find a way to piece him back together. So he takes flight flipping through the air, out of your sight.

For a moment you're stunned lackadaisically twirling your mace like a ballerina's ribbon wand. And even though he's mid attack Jason can't help admiring how ethereal you look, like a lion cub out on her first hunt.

Jason's knees land on your shoulder blades, his weight making you fall on your stomach with a pained scream. Your mace rolls away, thank God, that could have gotten too messy he thinks. Jason tugs hard on your cat ears, pulling back your head and exposing your neck to point a Batarang at your throat. "Here, kitty, kitty" he mocks, playful cadence laced with derision. You hiss out in pain as he brings his head closer. He looks so handsome upside down, like the pretty birds that sing on the balcony.

It's a split second, you raise your head, and the Batarang's wing punctures your collarbone. Your lips push on his, hollow but sweet. You feel his body go ridge his hold on his weapon lost. Still, you persist not breaking your first kiss...

You guess it's his too, you hope it is. Only when you feel his lips push back do you force him off with all your might. Grabbing your mace and jumping to the next rooftop. What is this excitement, so raw, so frantic?

You don't stop running until you make it home.

You don't look back, scared he'll see the bright pink dusting your cheeks.

You open the window and silently slip in.

Only to see Selina waiting in the dark.

Arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

He's baptized by blood and iron.

Broken down bone by bone.

Left to bleed out in the dark on the dirty asylum floor.

Still, he holds your name under his tongue, caged between his teeth.

His little kitten.

Sometimes he pretends you're lying next to him, gazing into his eyes as you too bleed out. Sometimes he laughs at your sarcastic quips at the dreaded clown. No dread is too light a word you'd correct. He finds you more attractive when you spill graphic profanities.

But you're not here, not really. And he can't quite tell if he's happy or not. His hand always reaches out to you. Desperate to feel your warmth, just once more...

And yet he's always met with air.

Always met by the stickiness of his own blood pooling beneath him.

He watches you from afar. Haunting the night, camouflaged amongst the shodws. The still Gotham night feels like a homecoming. A bittersweet reunion with a world that's both abandoned and forgotten him.

The arkham night swallows thickly, from behind his digilitized mask he zooms in on two figures in the distance. Swinging on metal threads, bodies coiled like snakes, latching on. One loses muscle one wrong move and they plummet to their death.

But the figures don't seem scared. You don't seem scared as you laugh at the boy wearing his clothes. No not his clothes, he's made sure to burn them all so very long ago. Instead, the boy wears red and black and yellow, he wears his symbol. But the garments are looser, not carved but built, foreign things covering a boy's body. Not armored built from years of endurance.

Still, you don't seem to mind, you scratch at him playfully as if he were a mouse on a string. You hiss and meow as he laughs and spools sanctimonious gibberish that sounds all so very Bat in nature.

Who else have you been sneaking off with? Jason makes a note to keep a better eye on you.

Jason's ironclad fists meet with Bruce's masked face.

Again and Again. He points his gun beneath his old mentor's ribs and shoots. Feel me he scream inside himself. Feel my pain. From the shadows, something pounces. Familiar nails try to dig into his chest, bypass the iron armor, and impale him.

It doesn't take much force to tug her off of him. He smashes her into the cement. Catwoman lets out an all-so-familiar meowl of pain. His boot meets with her flesh, her bones. Grinding them into the pavement, he can't tell why he wants to hurt her. Does he blame her for your disloyalty, does he want to hurt Bruce? The thoughts grow heavy as his ears buzz with rage. When he finally leaves he tosses a glare behind his shoulder watching the bat crawling toward the cat.

"Don't worry about your Kitten, I'll take better care of her than you ever could." His modulated inhuman voice promises...

It's been all so long since he's thought of roses and baobab tress, so long since he's pretended to be a prince returning to his scared beloved rose. Jason- no the Arkham Knight- corners you on a rooftop as you frantically try to reach your mentor. He watches as you twirl your mace, ready to fight. They're so much hatred behind your eyes, do you really not see him?

Your mace's head swings at his ribs, good to see some things never change, he counters the attack seizing the weapon with one hand. You try to pull it back to bring him to you. Instead, Jason pulls back and you're sent hurling into the thick metal of his chest. Your head spins as you glare up at him. His fingers wrap around your neck squeezing.

squeezing

squeezing

He'll find the new bird later. Crush his skull before your eyes. He'll make you suffer for leaving him. For turning your tretory.

At his base, in an interrogation room, the Arkham Knight slowly starts to peel away your sanity. Breaking your bones, your mind, your essence. Morphing you from the helpless little kitty into a bloodthirsty lioness. Whose only purpose is to be at his beck and call. You'll live for him, die for him. His perfect little pet. And once he knows he's broken your mind completely, the only thoughts swimming around that damaged thing are how to please your master. Then he'll unleash you on Gotham, watching as you tear into your mother's throat, ripping her apart with bare teeth and claws. Just like he will do to his father...

Then, and only then. When Gotham is his, he'll pull away the mask and let you see the man beneath the helm. He'll let you see the man who used to be Jason Todd.

Let me know if you guys ever want a fic or HC on what Jason ends up doing to the reader, I'll try to make it as gorey and darkly romantic as I can. Honestly rn my brain is so fired I can't really come up with anything lol. 😅😅

Love you to the moon and back for this ask Anon!! AAAWWWW Arkham Knight Jason is honestly the LOVE OF MY LIFE!!

[daftpatience]

i lov planning outfits the same way i love drawing diagrams for rearranging furniture. its plotting and scheming

[corsairspade]

Celegorm but everything about him is 10x funnier because he's a chronic ainur fucker and just doesn't tell anyone about it. He looks inwards and decides marriage is between elves so deciding to roll around with maiar of the hunt is absolutely valid and not marriage. Who's ever heard of an elf marrying a Maia?

Elven polyamory may be illegal but it doesn't count if he's just ferrying kisses between Oromë and Vána- they're not elves. No, it's not hypocritical, what are you talking about. Just don't tell his father. What? No, not because of the whole polyamory thing, Feanor's just got a thing about Valar. Yes Celegorm is sure that's the only reason he doesn't want to tell his dad.