mckinlily
Go. Be great.
{ao3} {vld fic} {art}
Lily // apparently I'm what qualifies as an adult //
basically just here for Shiro and whatever else catches my interest
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atlasparrichada
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Venoshock
tharannas
tharannas does art sometimes
Note
If you're still taking art request, pls draw my two fav boys ✨️
1. Dick is telling Jason terrible puns that make Jason groans, blocking his ears off.
2. Simply just Dick comforts Jason, hugging him while his brother is having a panic attack.
You can choose either one of them, I don't mind.
Also, english is not my main language :p
guys i think it might be time to get batty
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all goofing aside I genuinely don't understand the urge to reimagine Taylor Allison Swift as a secretly queer icon when the pop music scene(TM) is like. literally overflowing with women who actually like women. Gaga and Kesha and Miley and Halsey are right there. Rina Sawayama and Hayley Kiyoko and Rebecca Black and Kehlani and Victoria Monét and Miya Folick if you're willing to get slightly less top 100. Janelle and Demi for them nonbinary takes on liking girls. like what are we doing here. like I'm not even saying you can't enjoy Taylor but why would you hang all your little gay hopes on her.
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Anybody want to play hangman with me?
Here's the word:
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
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I need 50 hour days with no added responsibility per day. I think that would really help
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Jason might’ve mentioned a passing interest in meeting Robin—the old Robin, because he was going to be the new Robin, only judging from the low, furious conversation and the death glares, Bruce hadn’t exactly mentioned that to Nightwing—but he wasn’t expecting Bruce to leave him alone with the guy.
“Justice League emergency,” Bruce had interrupted, cutting off Dick’s half-hearted tour of the parts of the Cave Jason hadn’t explored, and disappeared through a zeta tube with a simple behave for Jason and a growled watch over him for Dick. Leaving Jason with the guy that spent the entire visit seething in unconcealed distaste.
Alfred wasn’t home, he had left on one of his rare days off, or perhaps he was aware of the cloud of tension that formed whenever Dick and Bruce got too close to each other, and Jason understood that heroes and emergencies were a part of life, but he didn’t enjoy that that meant that Jason and Dick were left alone in the abruptly resoundingly empty Cave.
“Right,” Dick muttered, not quite under his breath, “I don’t know why I ever expect anything different.” The bitterness was palpable. “Two and half goddamn hours, and he leaves to space.”
Jason shrunk back slightly. It had been clear from the start that this visit was not for him, and his desire to meeting the original Robin had fast dwindled in favor of getting out of ground zero before Bruce and Dick actually started yelling.
Dick blew out a sharp breath and turned on his heel, suddenly enough that Jason flinched. Dick froze, staring at him like he’d forgotten that Jason existed. Jason couldn’t read the expression on his face, and didn’t think he wanted to.
“Jason,” Dick said, carefully pronouncing his name. His blue eyes were sharp and cold. “So. New Robin, huh.” His face stretched into a smile that looked warm for all that it was plastic.
“Yup,” Jason said, inching back another step. “Uh, it was nice to meet you. I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Where are you going?” Perfectly level, calm and even, but it still forced a chill down his spine.
Jason had been terrified of Batman, but terrified in the way he was of shadows and ghosts. Abstract. Not real. Once Batman had proved himself to be human, all that was left was a man—large and trained and dangerous, but who got scolded by his butler and forgot to put on matching socks and bought Jason a stepstool to reach the books on the tallest shelves.
Bruce wasn’t scary.
Not the way that Richard Grayson seemed to be. Quicksilver manipulation of his expressions, smiling when he didn’t mean it, and cold, cold eyes—Jason wasn’t reminded of monsters or demons. He was reminded of the gang members that watched him ducking into alleys with just a little too much intent, the narrowed eyes of his mother’s dealer, the bright, fake smiles that marked the cops he had to run from.
And Jason was here with him, all alone. Robin—Nightwing—trained and dangerous and currently looking at Jason like he wanted to leave him in pieces for Bruce to find.
Jason had read a book with facts about robins just last week. Robins are territorial birds, and disputes can get physical. Fights to the death often occur.
“Upstairs?” Jason hated the way it turned into a question. “I was reading a book, and—um, I wanted to finish it?”
“We haven’t finished our tour,” Dick said, and Jason had preferred the low-voiced hiss to the casual neutrality. “Come on, there’s lots of cool stuff here I bet Bruce hasn’t shown you yet.”
Jason dithered in place, casting a glance at the stairs—Dick was already walking away, heading for the back of the Cave—but as much as common sense was shrieking at him to stay away, go upstairs, don’t stay down in the dimly lit cave with the guy that hates you, Jason was still the kid that looked at the Batmobile and decided to steal some tires.
“Fine,” Jason said, hurrying up to match Dick’s pace. “But I don’t know what you can show me that Bruce hasn’t already.”
“Oh,” Dick’s expression twitched, something flashing for a second, “You’d be surprised.”
~#~
Jason, mouth agape and neck protesting as he stared up at the acrobatics equipment, was speechless. Dick was breathless and flushed and grinning widely, and fuck, this was what Jason had wanted to see. Not Bruce’s sulky other son, or the cold, dangerous Nightwing, but Robin.
“Bruce showed you that yet?” Dick teased, calling down to him from where he was swinging upside down from the ring.
“How do you do that?” Jason breathed out, too amazed to feign at disinterest. Dick had moved like he was an actual fucking bird, like gravity was for lesser things.
“Practice,” Dick laughed, flipping off from the ring and flopping down on the safety net. Even across the rope, he was all fluidity and grace, flipping once more before he reached the ground.
“Bullshit,” Jason rebutted, looking up at the silks and the ropes and the swings, the scaffolding, the way Dick flew—“Tell me the truth. You’re a meta, aren’t you.”
Dick laughed again, bright and twinkling. He looked much happier than the sullen teenager that had met Bruce’s hesitant hope with a scowl. “Nope, just practice. Grew up in the circus. I could fly before I could run.”
“That’s so cool,” Jason said, looking back up at the scaffolding. “Can you teach me how to do that?” Flying through the air, spinning and flipping without a care in the world, unbound by physical constraints…it sounded like the best thing in the world. It sounded like freedom.
It took him too long to realize that Dick hadn’t responded. He turned towards the older boy and saw Dick stock still, expression frozen in a pinched grimace. When he saw Jason staring at him, he turned away. “Sure,” Dick said, in a voice that wasn’t even remotely believable, and Jason flushed at the reminder that Dick didn’t want him here. “Maybe later. You need a lot of training first. How about you show me what Bruce is teaching you so far?”
There was a bite to the words, and Jason had too much of Gotham in him to not respond to the challenge. “Was that an offer to kick your ass?” Jason retorted, stalking past Dick and towards the sparring area. Need a lot of training first. Well, while perfect Richard Grayson had been growing up in the goddamn circus, Jason had been living on the streets. He knew how to fight. “I’m ready when you are, Dick.”
That cold smile was back, like Dick was trying to figure out just where he wanted to stick the knife, and Jason thrummed impatiently on the balls of his feet as Dick slowly made his way to the sparring area.
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Damian: where did the name Robin even come from?
Dick: oh it's what my mother called me but then Bruce just decided to call Jason it without asking
Jason, who very much did not know that:
Tim, who had his own theories:
Bruce, who is getting death stares from everyone: well-
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I went to a restaurant with a friend yesterday and upon entering we saw these splendid blueberry tarts under bell jars on the counter and we made jokey small talk with the waitress like oh, people will fight over these if there's not enough for everyone, it'll tear families apart, are you making more later? and she said no, I'm afraid that's our entire stock for today, but there are 18 slices, it should be plenty! It was a small village restaurant with only one menu du jour so there weren't any other dessert options but they don't usually get that many customers—but then a couple of large groups arrived and most people noticed the tarts like we did, and went ohh blueberry tart, it's been a while, I can't wait, and it became clear that when we'd get to the end of our meal there would be winners and losers in the blueberry tart rush
But later as we were about to order dessert I wasn't hungry anymore and I was like well that's too bad but someone else will be glad to get 'my' slice of tart—and my friend said yeah, me :) You should order it anyway, I'll eat both! At first I thought she was joking, but no. I said, there's not enough for everyone, you can't take two, and she said, we were going to order two slices, what difference does it make? and I was baffled that she couldn't see the ethical difference between two people eating one slice of tart each vs. one person eating two, when there's a limited quantity of tart. I felt like we were in a simplistic social justice metaphor it was so obvious, but there was no changing her mind. When I said "it's just... not nice" she said "okay" with a shrug, and what can you say to that. She added, you don't know any of these people and I was like, why are we reverting to tribal dynamics in a non-apocalyptic setting, how would you feel if we'd arrived a bit later and seen others ordering two desserts knowing you'd get zero? And she said, I would think that's their right, and I felt kind of amazed.
I pointed out that if she didn't think it was a wee bit wrong, she wouldn't ask me to order her second piece as if it was for me, and she said yeah maybe we don't need to do that, there's no law preventing me from ordering two desserts. What about Kant's categorical imperative Okay I guess you're not breaking any laws by taking more than your fair share of a thing other people also want, just failing a kindergarten-level morality test. I felt embarrassed for sounding like an annoying preachy rigid person so I dropped the issue, and as she ate her two slices she'd smile at me every time we overheard someone order coffee without dessert—like "See? There'll be enough, no one will be deprived of tart because of me!" as if that cancelled the fact that she didn't care in the first place. I guess it was one of these tiny issues that can still significantly alter the way you perceive a person. I tried to tell myself not to be so bothered about this small thing but I was! so bothered. And I felt like writing a letter to some agony aunt like "should I end a friendship over irreconcilable blueberry tart ethics"
#I’m not sure#i think I’d tend to just order one#unless I felt like someone was shaming me for my tart ordering practices?#then I’d get two out of sheer spite#i don’t believe im morally responsible for the tart supply#but I also don’t believe in waste#but someone telling me what I can and can’t order?? yeah got a big problem with THAT
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You, a heroic paladin have successfully slain a fearsome dragon. But the dragon warns you that death is but a door, and dragons don’t die, they reincarnate. You paid it no mind….until your son was born with golden, slitted eyes.
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its important to do this every time a museum or school thinks this is a good idea
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As long as we're talking about weird sibling texts y'all gotta see this completely unprompted banger my sister sent me the other day.
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every time my bf says “for the time being” i respond with “for the time bean” and then we say “all hail the time bean” and carry on the conversation like nothing happened
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Y'all, the world is sleeping on what NASA just pulled off with Voyager 1
The probe has been sending gibberish science data back to Earth, and scientists feared it was just the probe finally dying. You know, after working for 50 GODDAMN YEARS and LEAVING THE GODDAMN SOLAR SYSTEM and STILL CHURNING OUT GODDAMN DATA.
So they analyzed the gibberish and realized that in it was a total readout of EVERYTHING ON THE PROBE. Data, the programming, hardware specs and status, everything. They realized that one of the chips was malfunctioning.
So what do you do when your probe is 22 Billion km away and needs a fix? Why, you just REPROGRAM THAT ENTIRE GODDAMN THING. Told it to avoid the bad chip, store the data elsewhere.
Sent the new code on April 18th. Got a response on April 20th - yeah, it's so far away that it took that long just to transmit.
And the probe is working again.
From a programmer's perspective, that may be the most fucking impressive thing I have ever heard.
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