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[inkdot-deactivated20200219]

This weekend I was told a story which, although I’m kind of ashamed to admit it, because holy shit is it ever obvious, is kind of blowing my mind.

A friend of a friend won a free consultation with Clinton Kelly of What Not To Wear, and she was very excited, because she has a plus-size body, and wanted some tips on how to make the most of her wardrobe in a fashion culture which deliberately puts her body at a disadvantage.

Her first question for him was this: how do celebrities make a plain white t-shirt and a pair of weekend jeans look chic?  She always assumed it was because so many celebrities have, by nature or by design, very slender frames, and because they can afford very expensive clothing.  But when she watched What Not To Wear, she noticed that women of all sizes ended up in cute clothes that really fit their bodies and looked great.  She had tried to apply some guidelines from the show into her own wardrobe, but with only mixed success.  So - what gives?

His answer was that everything you will ever see on a celebrity’s body, including their outfits when they’re out and about and they just get caught by a paparazzo, has been tailored, and the same goes for everything on What Not To Wear.  Jeans, blazers, dresses - everything right down to plain t-shirts and camisoles.  He pointed out that historically, up until the last few generations, the vast majority of people either made their own clothing or had their clothing made by tailors and seamstresses.  You had your clothing made to accommodate the measurements of your individual body, and then you moved the fuck on.  Nothing on the show or in People magazine is off the rack and unaltered.  He said that what they do is ignore the actual size numbers on the tags, find something that fits an individual’s widest place, and then have it completely altered to fit.  That’s how celebrities have jeans that magically fit them all over, and the rest of us chumps can’t ever find a pair that doesn’t gape here or ride up or slouch down or have about four yards of extra fabric here and there.

I knew that having dresses and blazers altered was probably something they were doing, but to me, having alterations done generally means having my jeans hemmed and then simply living with the fact that I will always be adjusting my clothing while I’m wearing it because I have curves from here to ya-ya, some things don’t fit right, and the world is just unfair that way.  I didn’t think that having everything tailored was something that people did. 

It’s so obvious, I can’t believe I didn’t know this.  But no one ever told me.  I was told about bikini season and dieting and targeting your “problem areas” and avoiding horizontal stripes.  No one told me that Jennifer Aniston is out there wearing a bigger size of Ralph Lauren t-shirt and having it altered to fit her.

I sat there after I was told this story, and I really thought about how hard I have worked not to care about the number or the letter on the tag of my clothes, how hard I have tried to just love my body the way it is, and where I’ve succeeded and failed.  I thought about all the times I’ve stood in a fitting room and stared up at the lights and bit my lip so hard it bled, just to keep myself from crying about how nothing fits the way it’s supposed to.  No one told me that it wasn’t supposed to.  I guess I just didn’t know.  I was too busy thinking that I was the one that didn’t fit.

I thought about that, and about all the other girls and women out there whose proportions are “wrong,” who can’t find a good pair of work trousers, who can’t fill a sweater, who feel excluded and freakish and sad and frustrated because they have to go up a size, when really the size doesn’t mean anything and it never, ever did, and this is just another bullshit thing thrown in your path to make you feel shitty about yourself.

I thought about all of that, and then I thought that in elementary school, there should be a class for girls where they sit you down and tell you this stuff before you waste years of your life feeling like someone put you together wrong.

So, I have to take that and sit with it for a while.  But in the meantime, I thought perhaps I should post this, because maybe my friend, her friend, and I are the only clueless people who did not realise this, but maybe we’re not.  Maybe some of you have tried to embrace the arbitrary size you are, but still couldn’t find a cute pair of jeans, and didn’t know why.

[hungrylikethewolfie]

This post is one of those things that I will reblog every time it appears on my dash.  This is so important, and no one ever tells you about it.

[skeletree-blog]

I almost didn’t read this but then I did and I’m really glad that I did.

[theopinionatedartist]

Super important

[deafinatlyme]

Tldr: The reason clothes never “looked right on you” is because models and celebrities always had their clothes tailored to fit them perfectly.

[plucky-passerine]

I love this post but it always frustrated me just a little because I can’t even afford to buy new clothes let alone get the clothes I have tailored. But then I remembered that a lot of things are easier to do than you think they will be, so here’s some resources on how to alter your own clothes!

[cats-eye-galaxy]

Please read this, it’s an opportunity to learn about yourself, possibly a new skill and why it isn’t you, it’s the industry.

[dduane]

Will always reblog.

[ladybogus]

Break out Grandma’s sewing machine

[redflagshipwriter]

Hot Ghouls in your Area 19

masterpost

“Good news, asshole.” Jason sat up in a cold sweat and grabbed the knife under his pillow. That did diddly squat, since Tim had hijacked a speaker somewhere in his apartment and his faint voice was taunting him. 

“Get off my phone!” Jason snarled and picked his phone up to spam the end call button optimistically. He didn’t really think that was where the sound was coming from but give him a goddamn break, he was tired.

Tim tsked, as if calling a phone was such an amateur move that he would never be caught dead using it. “Pay attention," he condescended, and Jason suddenly remembered what it felt like to want the little twerp dead. He hoisted himself out of bed and grimly hunted for whatever bit of tech had formed a weak point in his fortress. “I got a hit- two calls on Danny Fenton’s phone early this morning in quick succession with a sketchy billionaire. Five minutes later, said billionaire made a reservation in Gotham and then a reservation for a driver to pick up a guest from the university campus.”

“A sketchy billionaire? Is it you or B?” Jason snarked. He put his ear to the bluetooth speaker to see if that’s where Tim’s voice was coming from.

“Haha,” he said blithely. Not the bluetooth. Jason went hunting into the bathroom for the source. “Vlad Masters, turns out that he’s Fenton’s godfather but they have a very weird relationship and there are some comments on social media about the two of them being co-parents.”

Jason’s stomach roiled. He stopped hunting for Tim to pull out his phone and search Vlad Masters. He pursed his lips. “Distasteful,” he said. There was nothing wrong with the way Masters looked, except that he looked smug in every photo and he was obviously waaaay too old for either Fenton sibling. It was probably some gross in-joke.

“They’re going to have dinner tonight, an intimate two-person table at La Crux,” Tim said, insinuation thick.

Jason rolled his eyes. “Do you think I know what that place is?” he snarked. He put his phone away and scowled around the living room. Tim’s voice was clearer now. Was it coming from the kitchen? 

Tim sighed heavily. “Very exclusive, very expensive, only accepts diners in groups of two and is therefore considered a date spot.”

“Gross,” Jason muttered. He scraped the top of his tongue with his teeth. “So, what, you think Fenton is cozying up to a sugar daddy to get his shitty Crime Alley rent paid?” He let doubt color his tone. “That kid does not live like someone with a rich older boyfriend.”

“Maybe Masters is just a gigantic asshole,” Tim said placidly, and Jason honed in on the source of his voice with outrage and disbelief. “In any case I will be there, I’ve gotten a reservation and paid through the nose for the right table-”

“Why are you in my smart fridge?” Jason demanded. He hit it with the flat of his hand. “Get the fuck out of my fridge, you demon. I deny thee entry and succor.”

Tim sighed again, like he was the one inconvenienced. “You’re welcome,” he said waspishly, and hung up. Jason’s phone chimed a second later with the details of the reservation and then his batwork phone synched up with a mission. Jason squinted at the words 'Surveillance. Leads: Red Robin and Black Bat.’ He snorted. “Is the little shit going as himself with his sister, or are they going undercover as a couple?” he wondered. Whatever. He didn’t really care.

Hours later, Jason half-watched the screen fill up with an imperfect, machine transcription of the conversation that Masters and Fenton were having. It wasn’t great but given the difficulty Tim was having in accessing Fenton’s technology, maybe they should just be grateful that Cass and Tim were able to get anything at all. They weren’t close enough to hear, and only had the line of sight to lip read Masters.

Jason’s first impression of the relationship between Fenton and Masters was that they obviously didn’t like each other. If Fenton was pretending to like Masters for access to his money he was doing a terrible job of it.

He all but heard Tim go stiff as a board when Fenton clearly noticed him. Jason stopped working to watch the transcription struggle with static and dropped words, eyebrows high with his delight that Tim and Cass had gotten made by some clueless teenager who didn’t even recognize them properly.

The machine transcription had to be full of inaccuracies, but it made Jason snicker anyways. Tim made an offended noise when he realized that Fenton didn’t know his name. Bit full of himself, wasn’t he?

Whatever. Jason yawned and re-focused his eyes off of the screen onto what his hands were doing.

“Dead husband?” Tim said quietly. “Hood, did you see anything about a husband?”

‘Fenton is gay?’ Jason thought, intrigued. And then- “No.” He snorted. “It’s obviously banter of some kind.” He sniffed.

“Fenton is brat,” Black Bat said into the comms. “Ha ha.” She reported this emotionlessly. “Thinks concept of dead husband is humorous.” Ah, no, disapproval crept into her tone there.

Jason hummed, not really listening as attentively as he might. He was sitting sidestraddle on the workbench at the mechanic shop, cleaning some tools. 

‘Fenton is not married,’ he thought idly. ‘I would have found something when I looked into the family. Or else Jack would have told me. It’s an inside joke or code.’

Tim sighed too hard, sending static on the line. “Thomas Dank,” he repeated incredulously. Silverware clinked as he no doubt ate mechanically in his attempt to play-act as a real boy. He fake-laughed at something Cass did. 

Wait, what? Jason’s lips twitched. Had that transcription been right? Did Danny Fenton think that Tim’s name was Thomas Dank? He stopped moving to let a sense of childlike wonder wash over him.

‘Not a bad fit. Tim is a little shit. I’m glad I fed this guy. Fenton deserves funding. All Fentons deserve funding. I’m going to make WayneTech give infinite contracts to the Doctor to fund more Ghost-Huggers and those translation devices that put everything a ghost says into Cantonese.”’

Jason felt his mood perk up a little bit. Tim and Cass were obviously unimpressed, but personally? Jason thought that Danny Fenton was a funny little shit.

And then Fenton insinuated that Vlad was a pretentious pervert and so were the Wayne kids. Jason put his tools down to cackle, shaking his head. A beep cut across the line– and then nothing. Silence.

“Wow,” he said to the open air. “They cut me off of the call.” Jason was still snickering as he got ready for patrol. He had part of Black Bat’s route tonight, since she and Red Robin were doing an early operation. Batman swooped into his personal business while he was at it and gestured for Red Hood to talk. 

Jason took his time finishing up with his task and then sauntered over as saucily as possible so that any observers knew he didn’t take orders from Batman. “Old man,” he greeted. 

“Hood.” Batman sounded impassive but it was a lie. Bruce was roiling with big Bat Feelings as he gave Jason a look-over. “You are aware that Jeremy Waters escaped from custody this morning?” At Jason’s nod he grunted. “I have confirmed the whereabouts of his followers. I do not believe that any of them are involved in his escape. I have had one woman sent out of state.”

Jason wracked his memory for someone who stood out. “…The old woman who threw pink Himalayan salt on me?” He guessed.

Batman’s ears bobbed with a nod. “Merrian Pip. Yes. She is secured in a private location.” He cleared his throat while Jason wondered why that person, in specific, merited Bat Protection. He narrowed his eyes and internally debated the merits of asking vs doing some snooping.

Batman saw the question. He clearly did. Batman prised his jaw open and ground out the words, “I believe that Ms. Pip is the source of the magical power required to actually remove you from the scene.”

Jason felt his eyebrows shoot up. “No way,” he said, thinking it through. “How else would he leave Arkham?” Despite his automatic rejection he started thinking it through. 

‘My first theory was that he summoned a ghost that helped him escape. What if someone sent the ghost to retrieve him? Or even kill him? He might know too much, or maybe there is a power play for the coven.’

Batman grunted. “Undetermined.” 

Jason frowned. The hood hid his displeasure, which was a real shame. “Alright, fuck off,” he requested. “I don’t want anyone to see us talking.”

“Hrmph.” His shitty Dad left in a whoosh of cape, which was a significant improvement on all the times he had imposed himself past when he was wanted. Hmm. He noted the progress, but wasn’t touched enough to change his mind. Jason wasted no time at all to start opening up Bruce’s files on the case. 

“...Suspicious.” He sprawled on the roof and read through the reports. They were too short. Jason felt a scowl coming on. There was the expected demographic information, and a report on the day and time that Batman had interviewed her. But where were the details of the conversation? Why had she gone into hiding? Where was she? How had Bruce concluded that she was the powerful one?

The inescapable conclusion was that Bruce was deliberately hiding information from him. Jason needed to know what that was.

His knees cracked when he stood up, which was the sort of indignity that happened to people who routinely jumped off of high buildings. “I have to hunt the Batman,” Jason said ominously. He paused. “…That's kind of nostalgic.”

[plotwholls]

I saw a post (don't remember by who, so if you do, feel free to shout them out) where the entire concept was that Doofenshmirtz teamed up with Hawkmoth, but then he realizes that Adrien just DIDN'T KNOW that his dad was Hawkmoth, and so now I present to you the absolute bullshit that's popped into my head:

"So, you can put your bag down over there, and, oh-- don't mind Perry-- Perry the Platypus, this is Adrien! He'll be staying with me."

Adrien stared at the teal platypus in a fedora. It was standing on its back legs. And it looked summarily unimpressed. It churred at Dr. D.

"Oh, don't be like that," Dr. D scoffed at it, taking off his white lab coat to reveal... another lab coat. He hangs the outer lab coat on a hook. "His father is being investigated for child abuse by L.O.V.E. M.U.F.F.I.N.! What was I supposed to do?! Let Rodney look after the boy?!"

The platypus... gives in to the point.

"See?! I couldn't leave him there! Rodney would try and turn him into an apprentice! He doesn't need Evil Science being pushed on him just because his father's pursued Evilness!" Dr. D complains in an... oddly comforting way. "Anyway. I asked you to come over, 'cause I can't do any Villainy until Adrien-- this is Adrien, by the way, did I introduce him? Oh, I did! Oh, good! A-anyway, I can't do any Villainy. At least until Adrien's settled. You're still welcome over, of course, you're still welcome over, I just won't be doing anything. Well. Maybe some light planning," He admits, "But that's nothing to thwart, really... unless--" He turns to the platypus (in a hat), frowning. "Do you need something to thwart?"

The platypus, proving that he understands Dr. D, shakes his head.

"Oh, alright, well, let me know if that changes; I don't want to be doing construction while Adrien's over. I'm Evil, I have to hire the guys who used to install asbestos, y'know? Like, I don't let them install asbestos, obviously, that would be bad for Vanessa's lungs, but they've gotta get work somewhere."

The platypus makes the churring sound again.

"How long? Well, I don't know! His father's under investigation, Perry the Platypus! Don't be so insensitive! God, you're better than this...."

The platypus rolls his eyes, then churrs and points at Adrien.

"Oh? Oh!" Dr. D wraps an arm around Adrien's shoulders, dragging him closer to what Adrien is 90% sure is an oversized mute kwamii. "Adrien, this is Perry the Platypus! He's an O.W.C.A. agent. If your father pans out with the investigation, one of Perry's co-workers will be thwarting his plots every week, so take the chance to learn about what he does, alright? Vanessa, my daughter, Vanessa-- I've mentioned my daughter, Vanessa, right?" Adrien nods. "Oh, good, good-- Vanessa found a lot of comfort in getting to know Perry and what he does." Dr. D turns to Agent Perry the Platypus. "Do you know who'd be getting assigned?"

Agent Perry grimaces.

Dr. D gasps. "Not Peter Panda!"

Agent Perry grimaces harder.

"Oh!" Dr. D groans, facepalming. He sighs, turning to Adrien. "Well, bad news, Peter Panda and Perry the Platypus don't get along at all, but good news, Peter Panda is a consummate professional!" Dr. D assures Adrien brightly. He turns to Agent Perry. "He's good with teens, right? I always got that vibe from him. He was very polite to Vanessa, at least."

Agent Perry nods, reassuringly.

Adrien doesn't know how to feel about the Platypus agent being able to nod reassuringly, but, hey, it sounds like... wait. "Uh, sorry, you... you mean that every time my dad launches an attack on Paris, from now on, a panda in a fedora is going to show up to defeat him?" He tries to speak, but the words catch in his throat. Dr. D, thankfully, patiently waits for him to speak, his arm still wrapped around Adrien's shoulder. It is the wildest way that Adrien has ever felt comfortable in his life. "Wh... what about Chat Noir and Ladybug?"

Dr. D frowns. "Chat Noir and Ladybug??" He parrots. He turns to Agent Perry. "Does O.W.C.A. have a French branch? I don't remember that in orientation."

Agent Perry looks confused, too. He shakes his head.

"My dad's going to get orientation?"

"Huh? Oh, no, no-- I got orientation," Dr. D clarifies, "I was raised by ocelots, so I qualified to be an agent." He turns back to Agent Perry like that was a totally normal thing to say, and not wildly concerning at all. "Are Chat Noir and Ladybug agents you know? Maybe from the O.S.A.C.? France is close enough for Spain to pull jurisdiction, right?"

"Ch-Chat Noir and Ladybug aren't animals," Adrien managed to get out between the back-and-forth. "Or... agents." He grabs his phone, pulling up the Ladyblog. After a couple clicks, he pulls up a video of him and Ladybug dealing with Gigantitan.

"I'm sorry, is that a BABY?!" Dr. D shouts, flabbergasted. "Your father akumatizes babies?!!" He turns, grabbing Adrien by both shoulders. The man makes direct eye contact with Adrien, an intense look on his face. "Do you want to live with your father? Ignore everything else. Do you want to live with your father?"

"I... yes?"

Dr. D sighs. "...Alright. Perry the Platypus, if you could forget to mention this from Major Monogram...."

Agent Perry nods seriously, tipping his hat at Adrien.

Adrien smiles back, awkward.

"Wait," Dr. D suddenly says, suspicious. "Perry the Platypus," He calls. "Didn't those two costumed crusaders look awfully middle schooler shaped?"

Oh, no. Adrien's never going home, is he? Well... on the bright side, it sounds like his Lady will be getting some help from... a panda. Yeah, no, he needs to go home right now.

[clockwayswrites]

Clocky? I want to vote in the latest poll but I am… not sure what all of your WIPs are. 😅

You have so many I often get lost in the sauce. 😵‍💫

I know your pinned post has the ones you currently have active WIP fics ongoing for (I believe?) but I’m not sure where to find a list of all your little WIP ficlets that don’t have a solid fic up and going yet. I think? If there is one?

Could you maybe help me out? If there a list that I’m missing? Or, if there’s not, could I maybe get a short little summary of what your WIPs are about right now?

I’m trying to find them all and their information and I’m just like:

If you can’t, I understand. I know you’ve been suffering from lots of migraines and other health issues. I hope you feel better - I don’t know about the other stuff, but I know migraines suck. So take it easy! 💜

Oh, no, that's valid! I--will have to check my pinned post. I'm not sure what's in it anymore lol.

The most thorough place to check is @clockwaysadmin! Anything that is either active or backburner* is over there along with a few possible/hopefuls! I try to keep the lists there updated as best as I'm able and make new ones if something catches peoples' attention! There are a few there that may never go anywhere though!

*and not going directly to Ao3

A Thing with Wings (birb), The Haunting of Danny Fenton, Masked, the One Stop Soup Shop series, and Chances series are all on Ao3 with their summaries! These are the most active though the series ebb and flow (no single fic ends open endedly).

Backburn wise we've got:

Nightbird's Song: On dark Gotham nights, Nightwing visits the reclusive Danny Fenton for companionship. But can Nightwing admit that he needs something more from Danny? And will Danny risk everything for Nightwing?

A Hill to Die On: Out of the vigilante game due to injury, Tim struggles to figure out who Tim Wayne is--and to accept that there might be more to him than just one personality. Luckily their new boyfriend Danny seems more than happy to love all of them.

Vinyl Nights and Cigarette Lights: John Constantine can't believe his luck with the handsome, eager fan that he ran into after the concert. Bruce can't believe he's saying yes.

Danny in Metropolis: After moving to Metropolis, Danny makes quick friends with Conner Kent. Conner Kent is maybe hoping for something more... and to figure out the mystery that is Danny Fenton along the way.

Speed Running Family: When the flashfam run (literally) into a kid along in the woods they can't help but take the kid in. But how long can they hide being Speeders?

Graves: Thanks to Clockwork, Danny is there to help when Jason is revived in his grave. Danny just wants to make sure Jason gets back to his family. Jason's family wants to make sure that his rescuer is safe. Jason just wants cuddles, damn it.

(did I do the smart thing and copy the summaries I already had on the admin posts? no, no I did not.)

[ladybogus]

Keeping track of Clockwayswrites wild

[rekikiri]

my list of my favorite criminal minds x dc fics! (because I’m obsessed)

(a ton of these are outsider POV, even if they’re not tagged as outsider in my comments because I might be forgetting since I’m going through my bookmarks quickly)

1. Dick Grayson Joins the BAU

Dick Grayson: A Case Study by writersagainstwritersblock

^ an outsider POV fic of dick joining the BAU from the perspective of the other members. the last chapter is from Dick’s POV, and the twist at the end??? ohhh my god one of the best fight scenes I’ve ever read, especially in fanfic. HIGHLY recommend, my favorite of all of these, one of my favorite fics ever. it’s a often reread fic for me. it has birdflash as well on top of the other batfam (platonic) relationships.

The BAU is No Place for a Bat by Rosie_The_Fanfic_Reader

^ dick joins the BAU but in this one he’s there to protect emily prentiss for … reasons … it’s really good!

Between Villages by MCUisc_to_my_ears (series)

^ dick joins the BAU, outsider pov

Wings Spread Wide by SeeEmRunning (series)

^ a series of dick joining the BAU. I think this one either inspired dick grayson: a case study or it was inspired by it, I can’t remember. I only read 1-4, 8 but i enjoyed it. I’m pretty sure outsider pov on some of it

Breaking the Profile by yep_ethan

^ dick joins the BAU, big fan of this one! I have it tagged with !!! In my bookmarks lol

2. The BAU come in to investigate in Gotham/Bludhaven

Why is it a bad idea to threaten heroes by CyborgV2

^ when luthor becomes president, he decides that the justice league needs to be brought under the US and batman refuses to stand down, so the government sends in the BAU to catch him, with dick being the officer enlisted to assist them. it deals a lot with the events of no man’s land and how it has impacted the people of Gotham and their relations with the rest of the US. it’s fantastic (lot of outsider pov)

Cutting the Fibrin Netting by SwampSpirit

^ BAU are brought in to investigate Jason Todd’s murder, and their first suspect is dick grayson (outsider pov)

The Performer by c_m_li

^ the BAU is called into bludhaven for a serial murder with victims who look a lot like police officer dick grayson

Cover Up by MCUisc_to_my_ears

^ the BAU is called in to investigate the disappearance of Duke Thomas (outside POV of the batfam!!!)

3. Jason Todd joins the BAU

you’ve got your demons (darling, they all look like me) by nuclearwessels

^ jason decides to make a change and join the BAU. things get a little complicated when the BAU gets called in for a serial murder that seems a littleeee too familiar…

Bold of You to Assume There are "Normal" Serial Killers in Gotham by MinaHarkerMyBeloved

^ similar to the above, called into Gotham for a serial murder that’s … familiar …

I’ve read more than these but these are some of the ones I remember being the best <3 I’ve reread several of these many times within the past 8 months

[ladybogus]

Saving for later

[jasontoddscrowbars]

Pudding cups

Each Robin ate pudding cups differently.

Bruce would give the Robins chocolate vanilla pudding cups as rewards at the end of weekly patrols. Not the homemade stuff Alfred would make but the snackpak stuff in the plastic cups.

Chocolate layer, vanilla layer, chocolate.

Dick would aggressively stir the layers together. He had chaotic energy and everything had to morph as one giant sweet flavor. It gave him satisfaction to make as much of a mess as possible. He would then hand Bruce the spoon and just pour the pudding directly into his mouth squeezing it out of the cup.

Jason liked to stick the spoon straight down and the back in to get a perfect slice of all three layers. In the process of doing this, he would swipe the spoon against the side of the cup to make sure, each time, he would spoon up every last drop leaving nothing behind. At the end he would sit there meticulously scraping up the bottom.

Tim skims up layers from the top. He eats it painfully slow too. He takes the tiniest little even layer from the top, sucks on the spoon, and savors it. Bruce patiently waits for him while he eats it too. Finds the pace a nice change compared to the Dick who never tasted his.

Damian didn’t know what he was being handed. Bruce had to eat the first with him. Damian found the experience of eating the pudding with his father more fun than the pudding itself. Not long after, Dick joined them for these weekly moments. Damian wasn’t sure what to make of Dick eating his pudding cup. Then Tim joined and, well Tim was Tim. And when Jason came back, it was really rowdy. Damian wasn’t really all that big on the pudding cup, he liked Alfred’s better, but it didn’t taste all that horrible eating them with his brothers and father who were laughing like idiots. For once he was thankful Tim was so weird and ate so slow. 

[ladybogus]

Sweet family feels

[snowdin-stims]

🐟 | source

[zerogravityinq]

I have a running joke idea where Danny introduces himself as a ghost and when asked he brightly says he was born like this.

Everyone thinks this means he was stillborn.

Lilith who knows what they think never corrects their assumption.

[nerdygaymormon]

A reminder that sell-buy dates or best-used-by dates are not the same as expiration dates.

I love that a food bank is providing this info as they are experts in stretching food budgets and knowledgable in shelf-stable food items

[etakeh]

So I followed the link to the website and found the longer list.

The website puts a link to the USDA site which links to foodsafety dot gov who really wants you to use the app, but you can bypass it.

Also a link to the Canadian government's advisory on best-before dates.

Both sites have links to pages that get more into food storage.

[clockwayswrites]

'Birdritch' part 3

Someday I might post this not at fuck all in the morning and proof read it first, but today is not that day! Masterpost Art

-

“Pamela—”

“Don’t ‘Pamela’ me during a fight!”

“But that’s the thing!” Nightwing said, keeping his hands raised even as he motioned with them. “This isn’t a fight. I get that you were upset—”

“They were trying to bury a body in my park!” Pamela hissed.

“And we stopped them!”

“You know,” Red Hood started from where he was sitting on top of the bound criminals, “you could have just thought of it as free fertilizer.”

Nightwing gave up and buried his face n his gloved hands. “Hood, you’re not really helping.”

“’Course I’m helping.,” Hood said as he inspected his gloved fingers. “I’m keeping the baddies pinned. Red is the one who’s not helping.”

“I’m keeping a birds eye view on things,” Red said into the comms. Which really was a good thing, considering. Like, what? “Speaking of birds, there’s one the size of a large SUV headed this way. Or at least it mostly looks like a bird.”

“What do you mean it mostly looks like a bird?” Nightwing asked.

“Fuck that,” Hood cut in, “what do you mean the size of an SUV?”

Pamela crossed her arms, hip jutted out defiantly. “What it wasn’t me. I don’t deal with animals, you know that.”

“I mean it’s got two legs and a beak…ish thing? It looks like some sort of water bird. Which I guess could explain it? Like, we know Gotham Harbor has too many weird chemicals in it. Maybe someone emptied one too many things right on a totally normal bird and— oh, it’s glowing too.”

“Well great,” Hood managed right before, with a thundering step, the bird thing broke through the vines.

The tuft of green feathers on its chest seemed to almost glow from how bright the color was, but Red hadn’t been wrong. The bird thing really was glowing, a pale cyan color that seemed to shift and ripple and pull away from the white crest and mostly black body of the bird.

“See,” Red said, motioning from his perch on the lamppost, “an SUV sized bird like thing.”

The bird thing’s head tilted and Red and the very sudden, very certain sense that all of the creature’s focus was suddenly on him.

“Red,” Hood rumbled as he slowly pulled out out a gun, “I think you better stop moving.”

“You can’t shoot it,” Nightwing hissed.

“If it tries to eat Red, I sure as fuck am shooting it,” Red growled back.

“Or I could just entangle it with my vines,” Pamela said. She crossed her arms when they all turned to look at her and examined her nails. “What? I am not going just stand here and let a giant bird eat my favorite little birds.”

“Aw,” Nightwing cooed, you do care!”

Pamela rolled her eyes and flicked the hand she had been looking at. One of the massive vines broke free from the ground and whipped towards the bird thing at a speed that was almost hard to track.

And stopped.

Short.

Held in the clawed grasp of the creature. The long neck reared back and the bird thing opened its beak and squawked in offense.

“Uh, guys?” Red said, his voice quiet now.

“Yeah, I’m seeing it too,” Nightwing answered.

“Why the fuck does it have three legs?” Hood asked.

[ladybogus]

Reblogging because rereading for the Nth time

[maribat-calendar-events]

Maribat Fic Recs!

Here is a link to the submission form!

Anonymous recommendations:

i don't need to see to find you by assassinscred and bloodhungrywolfpack ( @bloodhungrywolfpack )

classic betrothed a u but with a twist

Tiny Tim by LeoLeonte

I go back to this fic all the time. It's iconic.

The string that binds us by FaithAndATypeWriter

The way the author characterizes Marinette and Damian in particular is so beautiful, its one of my favorites.

League of Losers: Adventures of Catgirl and Duskwing by GummyLover15 ( @gummylover15 )

I was hooked from the first sentence of the summary and binged it all in less than two days

gotham mouse paris bug izzybelledot ( @izzybellepenguin )

lovely beautiful and satisfying to read

the reports asociated with my existence have been significantly misconstrued by davidstennant

one of those fan fics i wish i could read for the first time again

A bond formed through trauma by Totally_no_one_like_me ( @totally-no-one-like-me )

I like the way Marinette acts in this fic and how Chloe realises her mistake and apologises.

Protection Detail by FairyChix26 ( @the-alice-of-hearts )

It’s a really fun fluff read. Kinda a modern day Knight fic. Very sweet and fun to reread

Maybe I’m by your side in another life by ScarletImpulse ( @ringleaderscarletshadow )

Loving this fic is as easy as breathing. It’s fun and has love in every word written.

Truth and Consequences series by mochegato ( @mochegato )

I'm sure I've already recommended this before. I don't care. I'm doing it again.

Broken Harmony - dessarious

talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, etc

Non-Anon recommendations:

otome_wandering recommends In an Apron by dreamsof_moonlight

I fell in love with this (and its series) because the idea of Damian being complete affected by the idea of a girlfriend being *home* and wanting to be taken care of just because he saw Marinette in an Apron made me absolutely weak

otome_wandering recommends Teleporting Into Your Life by Izanae ( @izanae )

Literally one of the only Bio-fam Bruce fics I actually reread. So we'll written and I love them all being so protective of Mari as well as the trauma comfort. Also the background Jonette is ADORABLE

otome_wandering recommends Joint Filing Status by ew_selfish_art ( @ew-selfish-art )

I'm a sucker for unintentional marriage and the way they get competitive over it leaves me kicking and screaming.

iffy recommends Canary by oliviaandersonisntmyrealnamelol ( @olivia-anderson-fanfic )

I read Canary while white knuckling stopping antidepressants cold turkey and it made me feel something.

[jaxon-exe]

Most efficient ER in Gotham

Had the idea of ER nurse Danny and ER doc Damian working in the same ER.

Like their the same age but Danny was working there first (bc it takes less time to become a nurse than a Dr) and everyone in the ER loves him. He is the most component nurse they’ve ever had and is always cool, calm and collected even in the most stressful of times. Drs know that if shit hits the fan they can pass any patient that’s not dying right this second over to Danny and he’ll get them sorted all by himself, cracking jokes the whole time to keep everyone else from freaking out.

Then Damian starts working there and he’s basically a no nonsense Danny. Nothing fazes the guy. On his second day there he handled a gun shoot wound, spinal injury, rib fracture and stabbing all within an hour of starting his shift, all on different patients. He gets in, gets shit done and moves on as if he was dealing with a minor problem not 3rd degree burns.

Now these two, despite working at the same hospital, have never met. Bc Danny works the night shift and Damian works the day and every person that works there is so fucking glad that’s the case bc non of them expect them to get alone. Like Danny’s all wise cracks and jokes and Damian is all ‘stop wasting time’ so even tho they’re both efficient as fuck, no one expects them to tolerate each other.

Then on the first Halloween Damian works there, every member of staff is on shift bc it’s fucking Gotham and all the staff r just bracing for the inevitable fall out of two unstoppable objects colliding. Only it never happens bc these two get alone like a house on fire. Like yeah normally Damian gets up people goofing off but that’s bc their not doing work and just wasting time, he sees nothing wrong with Danny’s jokes bc he’s getting work done while he jokes. It’s like working with Dick, he honestly finds it a bit reassuring bc if Danny is cracking jokes it can’t be that bad. Danny on the other hand is just so glad to have someone else that can keep pace with him. Normally by this time of night he’s juggling 8 to 18 patients on his own with only minimal help from the on shift doctors but now Damian is right there with him and the two r basically tag teaming the hoard of mass casualties that just came in.

Needless to say that night Gotham general was the most efficient hospital on the planet and every doctor and nurse on staff have the horrible realisation that while they had mentally prepared for these two fighting, they hadn’t prepared for the fucking hurricane these two form when they get alone. 

[thelotusrabbit]

DpxDc #19

Call of the void.

(shorter than my usual, but a funny thought. Also, little drawing at the end)

Something that Danny wanted to explore together with space, was the ocean.

The thing is: both were terrifying to him, but the thrill of the unknown, the immense voids that nature was capable of...

It was absolutely, existentially dreadful.

He loved it!

He wasn't really afraid of getting lost if he tried to take a stroll around, since he could quickly reach land, so why not try?

It wasn't really his fault that he let himself go!

Danny didn't even realize it was happening, but ectoplasm is a substance that tends to fill space. Between molecules, between atoms, it's everywhere, it's the ambient.

Long story short, he only found out that he had grown to the size of Godzilla when he was casually passing by Atlantis.

He hadn't even noticed the underwater city until he heard screaming coming from below...

Something about a leviathan?

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Ignorantia Neminem Excusat [part 2]

[Ignorance excuses no one, lat.]

[ <- part 1 ]

Now that Tim thinks about it, it does look ominous.

A seven feet tall, cylindrical glass tube that emits a soft, slightly pulsing green glow, countless cords and wires plugged into its base. It made sense at the moment — a giant space station needs a giant power source — but right now, when Tim knows what that entitles, it's... he bites on his cheek and looks back down to the tablet he is holding.

"Ten more minutes," he says, his words echoing off the walls of the room. Tucker nods, not taking his eyes off the battery — or, rather, a containment device.

Tim doesn't look at him either. The twisted, nagging sense of guilt is eating him alive: it's been almost two weeks since the legally nonexistent boy demanded a meeting with Batman. Two weeks since they've learned that the Watchtower's shiny new power source is just a fancy name for a cage holding an interdimensional being.

If it was up to Tim, he would have broken this glass the moment they've got their hands on the extensive, irrefutable proof that Tucker all but threw in their faces. Unfortunately, that would have resulted in the whole Watchtower losing power and possibly going off-course, and they couldn't risk it.

Tucker, with his pale, eerily still eyes, understood it. He said a week or two won't make a difference at this point, and the one held inside the capsule would have been gravely offended if his rescue ended up in malfunction of a whole space station. He said he'll wait, and he kept his back straight and his head high as they've spent those two weeks tracking and locating various other batteries and setting the souls within them free.

The seconds tick by so slowly that Tim feels like all three of them — him, Tucker, and the ghost inside the tube — are stuck in amber. He looks down to his tablet again.

Nine more minutes until all the main systems are safely switched to an emergency generator.

"Tell me about them," he asks, surprising even himself with it. Tucker turns to look at him, his eyebrows raised, the green light of the battery making him look like something out of a horror movie. Specifically the zombie apocalypse one.

"About who?"

Tim nods to the capsule in front of them.

"You're not exactly subtle," he shrugs when Tucker just keeps silently staring at him. "The way you spoke about this particular cell sounded like, whoever is inside it, you know them personally."

The silence stretches for a few more seconds, clogging Tim's ears like someone poured honey inside them. Then, Tucker looks away, his gaze returning to the capsule.

"He was my best friend since kindergarten," he says, and the air gets stuck in Tim's throat. "And I watched him die."

The other spirits that they've freed, they were all ghosts, souls of the deceased, Tim knows that. Some of them looked like blobs — emotional imprints, Tucker said — others took forms of animals or plants. They've seen a few humanoid ones as well, but it was easy to distance himself from them, to not get attached or involved. They were just faceless civilians, in a sense, however morbid that sounds.

And now, the sudden reminder of the fact that all of them were living beings once, that they've had friends, and families, and maybe their whole lives in front of them, feels like a punch to the gut.

"It's a bit ironic," Tucker continues, a humorless smile on his lips, "He wanted to be an astronaut. He wanted to go to space," he almost laughs, and the unnatural light of the tube makes his features look sharper than they are, "Beware of what you wish for, or something like that, I guess."

Tim stays quiet, forgetting to pay attention to the timer on screen.

"He was- he still is kind of a hero in our hometown," Tucker continues, "If I had to compare, I'd say he's a mix of Superman and Flash — heart of gold, but his mouth runs faster than his brain sometimes. And he kept somewhat of a nice relationship with most of his rogues, you know. Friendly banter and occasional team-ups and stuff." He takes a deep, steadying breath, his sad, bitter smile fading.

"It's what got him in here," he adds, the words falling into the silence like a rock in a pond. Tim blinks.

"Being nice to his rogues?" He clarifies, and Tucker snorts.

"No, I meant the heart and the banter, but, in a sense, you're not wrong either. As far as the agency's records go, he was captured while he was rescuing one of them." Tucker turns to look at the tablet in Tim's hands, "How much more?"

Tim looks down, abruptly reminded of the reason they are here.

"Uh, three more minutes," he says, but then grimaces and changes his mind. Bruce and the rest of the League can go fuck themselves, honestly, "Actually, you might want to start now. Disconnecting it would take time anyway," he shrugs, as nonchalant as it's possible in these circumstances.

Tucker stares at him, his eerie eyes looking almost grateful for a moment. And then Tim blinks and finds him on the other side of the room, kneeling on the floor with his fingers dancing over the battery's control panel.

Tim breathes out and looks at the ticking timer on his tablet. Two minutes and forty-five seconds. Tucker is a tech genius, they've all had time to see and appreciate it in the last two weeks, so he is surely going to finish working on the capsule sooner than two minutes. Yet, Tim can't bring himself to really care — he knows Bruce has probably set the timer with a few minutes of delay, just to play it safe. But even if he didn't, it's not like Watchtower will fall down from the orbit after a two-minute blackout, so-

A loud hiss interrupts his musings, and when Tim raises his head, he sees the glass wall of the capsule opening slowly, reluctantly sliding to the left. He only has a brief moment to be surprised — he knew Tucker worked fast when he wanted, but not that fast — before some kind of thick, green substance starts pouring out of it. Yet, instead of spilling on the floor, it glimmers and fades into thin air like fog.

This hadn't happened with any other batteries, Tim thinks, but then the capsule finally opens completely, and-

That's a person.

A person who looks the same age as Tim, his skin and hair lacking any kind of color to it like it's all bled out. A faded picture of a human being.

The toxic-looking liquid around him keeps leaking, turning into clouds of greenish white, ice cold steam. It's kind of pretty; it would have made a great picture, or, maybe, a painting if you ignore all the implications that brought it to life.

When the colorless boy starts falling, Tim doesn't even notice how he drops his tablet. He steps forward, reaching his hands out to catch him.

A moment later, he is holding a ghost in his arms. He is surprisingly — or maybe not so, considering his species — light; it's like holding something that's only slightly denser than air.

The boy sluggishly moves, shifting in his arms. His white, floating hair gets into Tim's nose, and he huffs, trying not to sneeze.

There's a quiet, almost sleepy moan that feels like a vibration on Tim's skin, and the boy lifts his head.

Tim's heart skips a beat.

His eyes are bright green, and they hold the whole universe within them.

Tags:

@thewisperwitch @yassjr @calisto112 @failedbimboinstem @yesdangerpls @restedenergy00 @tf-wildstrike

[corkinavoid]

| welcome to my blog |

You can find my full-written works on ao3 under the name corkinavoid or click this link.

| tags |

#cork prompts is for all my ideas, prompts, ficlets, big and small

#cork adds is for my additions to someone else's posts, usually including reblogs

#cork writes is for everything concerning my writing, rants, tips, and all things relevant

#cork writes fantasy is a tag specifically for my DPxDC fic 'Fiance to a Star', updates, lore drops, moodboards, and soundtracks

#cork likes is for reblogs, mostly any pretty art I find

#cork art is for anything I draw, which is rather rare

#cork game is for a writing game I play that you can participate in here (currently on pause).

You can use all of my prompts how you see fit as long as you link/tag/credit me.

Other than that, here's some fun facts about me:

• neurodivergent but not a minor

• English is not my first language

• my favorite ships are Dead Tired and Anger Management, and I'm also deeply in love with Al Ghul Twins trope

| masterpost |

I'm only linking my series here, not all prompts.

| DPxDC |

Changeling AU: [part 1], [part 2], [part 3], [part 4], [part 5], [a fic "Danny! Wait, who's Danny?"], [part 6], [part 7]

Haunted Family AU: [part 1], [a fic "It takes three days to get adopted"], [a fic "A cat walks by herself, but so does a ghost"], [a fic "A new family, an old family, and a never ever happening family walk into a gala"], [part 5]

Mercenary Danny AU: [part 1], [a fic "I'll pay you ten times"], [a fic "I want to hire you"], [a fic "I'm asking you out"]

Multiverse Police/Good!GIW: [part 1], [part 2], [side notes], [part 3], [another part 1], [another part 2]

Fantasy Magic School AU: [part 1], [a fic 'Fiance to a Star']

Fantasy Royal Fae AU: [part 1], [a fic 'Married to Winter']

Masters Mansion/Socialite Danny: [inspo], [part 1], [part 2], [part 3], [a fic 'Coronation'], [a fic 'There Are No Living Here']

John Constantine's Ghost Kids: [part 1], [part 2]

All the al Ghul Twins related posts: [one], [two], [three], [four], [five], [six], [seven], [eight]

Ring of Engage: [part 1], [part 2], [part 3], [part 4], [notes]

Hogwarts AU: [part 1], [part 2], [part 3], [part 4], [part 5], [part 6], [part 7], [part 8], [part 9], [part 10]

[clockwayswrites]

So far this file is called 'birdritch'. Those of you who follow my art tumblr might know where this is going. I needed something light to write, been a low day. There has been zero editing or reading through and it is past 2am, sorry and enjoy! (Don't need any typos pointed out, ty.)

---

“You are supposed to be home.”

Danny blinked up from his work to find Lucius Fox standing in the doorway of the lab. The man had the sport of expression one wore around a child who had just done something disappointing.

(Danny was used to the look, even if it had been a long time since he'd been a kid. Or seen his parents, for that mater.)

“Okay, but,” Danny started, “we agreed that I could start at ten and take my eight hours and one for lunch—”

“A mandatory one hour for lunch away from your desk,” Lucius interrupted.

“Yes, yes, I’ve been doing that! I’ve been eating out on the rooftop garden or even leaving the building and eating out or taking lunch to the park. I’ve been behaving, Lucius, I promise.”

Lucius raised a judgmental brow. “It’s after eight, Danny.”

“What? No. I have an alarm on my phone and everything… okay, well, that only works if my phone is charged.” Danny jabbed uselessly at his phone screen. He followed the charger, which was plugged in, all the way to the wall. He resisted the urge to let his head fall against the wall. “I guess Leslie fried the outlet again or something. I’m sorry, Lucius.”

“It’s fine, Danny,” Lucius said, “but only because, one, I know you have been trying, and two, I am going to buy you the most embarrassing alarm clock I can find and mount it to something in this lab. Now it is late and I am going home and so are you, Mr. Fenton.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Fox,” Danny said and made an exaggerate show of packing up his backpack, dead phone and all.

Lucius gave a little snort at the antics, but left with a ‘get home safe, Danny’. After his boss was gone, Danny took the time to actually make sure everything was in his bag and secure. He still didn’t get why he couldn’t just work late, but apparently WE had something of an insistence of work life balance. According to Lucius, Danny crossed the line too often and so was being kept in line. (Danny didn’t think mention he didn’t have much of a life, literally and otherwise, would help his case.)

Still, Danny mused as he stepped inside the empty elevator, the rules did keep him from becoming his parents. And that was a very, very good thing! Being a mad scientist in Gotham usually ended up landing someone in Arkham. It was just that after the chaos that Danny grew up with, going back to his empty apartment was depressing. It wasn’t as if Danny never got out and did things, it was just that all those things were mostly on the weekend. Most days he just didn’t have a reason to go back to his place.

There was no getting out of it tonight, the great and powerful Fox had spoken and Danny knew better than to try and sneak back up. He lifted his hands over his head, stretching as the elevator descended the last few floors. Oh well, at least it was before ten. He could still grab something on the way home and have a full, warm meal to take his pain meds on. By the pull along his forearm he would need them.

“Night, Bill,” Danny said as he passed the security guard who was on the evening shift. He got another ‘get home safe’ in response and gave a little wave in reply over his shoulder.

Even after the few years in Gotham, it still amused Danny how much everyone wished everyone else some sort of safe travels here. As much as Gotham was a city of hardened realists, there still was so much hope about it. Hope people got home safely, that the Bats would get where they were need in time, that the city would rebuild again and again and again. The undercurrent of hope was so strong that Danny could practically feel it moving through the city like a river.

It had been one of the reasons Danny had taken the job.

He could use hope.

He also had been very careful not to look too closely into it all. While Danny’s early life may have been dominated by the occult, he tried to stay away from it these days outside of the necessary visits to the Realm for his health. As much as the Far Frozen was full of ghost yetis, Frostbite was still a being of science and being there felt more like a cold vacation to his weird relatives than anything else those days.

Danny was actually worried that he was getting close to needing another visit. He shouldn’t, not yet. He wasn’t actually due back for another three months, but the thought of visiting Frostbite had been pulling at the back of Danny’s mind. The most annoying part of it all, is that there wasn’t any concrete reason that Danny felt he needed to go, just a lot of little things: the ache was deeper in his bones, he’d been missing noticing little things, his near constant vertigo was worse, and, oddest of all, he had been feeling chilled.

Maybe he should just take a long weekend and go for a quick visit.

Lucius would undoubtedly approve of the break.

Tomorrow, Danny would ask tomorrow.

(As long as he remembered.)

[ladybogus]

No words for how much I love this eldritch birb!

[clockwayswrites]

The Weird Around the Corner Ch 1 first draft, part 2

part 1

Tobias cracked his cheap paperback back open and tucked into his pie.

If they were looking for him, they could wait. He’d quit, damn it. He had a pie to enjoy and a trashy sci-fi pulp to finish. Would the daring Captain Arc get the girl? The guy? Both? Finding out was vitally important to Tobias’ mental health.

Or something.

Unfortunately, neither the book nor the pie were endless. Sooner than Tobias liked, he was tucking the paperback into his back pocket and fishing out enough cash to cover his bill with a solid tip. The bell on the door cheerfully announced his exit, and he gave a lazy wave to the course of ‘byes’ that the other locals sounded out.

The clouds hung heavy and grey with a threat of rain, and Tobias sent out an idle plea to the fates that the rain would hold off a little longer. Possumfjord as a whole wasn’t a walkable city anymore, not by a long shot (or lack of sidewalks) with how it had grown so quickly as a get away destination, but the ‘historic’ downtown was convenient to get around on foot and took care of most of Tobias’ needs.

As he walked down the strip, the classic, low slung lines of 5 Alive and geometric buildings of brick and concrete gave way first to the angles of Craftsmen and then the ornate details of the original Victorian buildings. Past the mostly empty parking lot and the store that used to be a lawyer’s office but currently sold rocks and crystals was the old family Queen Anne turned museum.

Leaning on the wrought iron fence, right next to the sign declaring the building Possumfjord’s Museum of Wonders (Natural and Otherwise), was a man in a suit. His whole look screamed that he was part of a bureau of some sort: perfectly put together and yet exceedingly bland. Practical. Noticeable by trying to be too unnoticeable.

He was a lean fellow, almost worryingly so. It brought to mind blue herons: delicate but deadly as they stood perfectly still in the water while hunting. The dull navy suit and black hair, tussled by the wind, made the comparison even easier to see.

Tobias considered making his way around back of the house, but the roses there (not having been tended to since Nana Helen’s time) had gone rather feral. He wasn't sure he'd make it out in one piece if he tried. It looked like he was spotted anyways. Muted blue eyes watched Tobias from behind round, wire-frame glasses. He was a fish just waiting to be speared.

Against his will and better judgment, Tobias sucked it up, took a deep breath, and continued towards his business and home.

The stork stood up and away from the fence with a little tug to his suit jacket. “Mr. Atwood, I’m Mr. Roads—”

Tobias snorted. “Sure you are.”

“I—pardon?”

“Mr. Roads? Really? Giving a Trawler the ID of ‘Roads’, because that’s what you’re always on—roads? Out hunting for another artifact or anomaly or adept,” Tobias let his accent thicken and catch on the consonants. “The Bureau really has run out of ideas, haven’t they?”

“I’m sorry, what? No, Mr. Atwood, my name last name is Rhodes as in r-h-o-d-e-s. And I’m not, do I look like a Trawler to you?” Mr. Rhodes asked and motioned to himself with a flutter of his hands. “No, I’m an archivist.”

Tobias blinked. “Well what the fuck are you doing here then?”

Archivists didn’t just leave the archive. Not like this: alone.

“Well, Mr. Atwood—”

“Just Tobias, please.”

Mr. Rhodes gave a little, annoyed frown but continued on. “Tobias. I am looking for you. Which I dare say is obvious, considering there isn’t much else in this town.”

“Hey, be nice to Possumfjord. This city is a growing holiday retreat.”

The look that Mr. Rhodes gave him said that he severely doubted that claim. Which, well, fuck him. The city was three times the size it had been in Tobias’ childhood. At least.

Mr. Rhodes sighed. “Can we please continue this conversation inside where there are no prying ears?”

Tobias looked across the street to where ol’Andy was out in a chair in front of (one of the many) antique stores, rocking away. Tobias gave him a slightly strained smile and a wave. Andy waved back with his pipe.

“Fine, come on in,” Tobias sighed. He stepped past the other and up the short stairs of the museum. His foot caught on the edge of the wheelchair ramp as it always did. With the right jiggle, he got the door open and stepped through the threshold. “Welcome to Possumfjord’s Museum of Wonders, Natural and Otherwise.”

[ladybogus]

#clockwayswrites #original writing #the weird around the corner #squee