Reblog If You're Gay, Not Gay, Slightly Gay, Or If You Just Want To Launch Donald Trump Into A Dying

I've seen a lot of fics disappear from my bookmarks, some 10+ years old, because they were added to an unrevealed collection. It makes me wonder if people realize what your fic being added to a collection actually means and if the authors approved it automatically without realizing what would happen.

If someone adds your fic to their collection, they can hide it! They can mark the collection as unrevealed and your fic will be unreadable to anyone other than them! If you're writing works for a surprise event, like a Secret Santa, this is really nice.

But if you're just writing and someone adds your fic to a collection for their own personal use and marks it as unrevealed, that. . . really sucks.

I bookmarked this fic in 2017, almost 5 years ago. Knowing me, the fic itself was probably at least a couple years old at the time I bookmarked it.

This is a 5+ year old fic that is completely inaccessible now because it was added to a collection that, as far as I can tell, is literally just for the collection owner's own reference. There's almost 30 fics in the collection, all of them unrevealed.

Please don't blindly accept collection requests and if your works ARE in a collection, make sure that they aren't being hidden without your knowledge or consent.

seeing a bad take on stephanie brown and realizing i gotta assemble the avengers: the spoiler rebloggers. the batgirl defence legion. the think piece warriors. the robin correctors. the steph scholars

Orphan breaks my heart because she has no swag. Like okay the big pants and the hood are fun and maybe they would work if she was like a solo hero in an action film but as an ensemble cast member she looks like Background Assassin #3. Even Tim’s “the Drake” persona looked like less of red shirt. She doesn’t even have a logo. Like Black Bat was stupid but it also served campy superhero vibes. And obviously nothing can beat Batgirl. Batgirl was so perfect because it was so clearly a derivative of Batman’s costume that showed her allegiance to him and marked her as a Gothamite even when working with other heroes but still had the unique full mask with the stitch mouth that made her easily recognizable and all together cuts a shadowy mysterious figure that is immediately visually interesting. Orphan gives me absolutely nothing. And the name sucks.

To my knowledge, when Cass was orphan she was basically the only person in the BatFam that wasn’t an orphan.

Like, sure both her parents are horrible, but they were both perfectly alive and you still had the audacity to call yourself Orphan while being in a family of actual orphans

Fuck yeah, that’s badass

Batman: Gotham Knights (2000-2006) #22

Two words guys…. Uncle Dudley

Google Docs

Senior Citizen Smackdown Nominations

Force an elderly person into a cage fight by submitting their name below

This is the nominations form for the DC comics Senior Citizen Smackdown tournament.

what the fuck are they feeding the falin and marcille fan artists. why are they painting the sistine chapel every time. they're going crazy style. those freaks. i love them so much.

I’m forever going to miss Stephanie’s og Spoiler outfit 😔

DC YOU ARE IDIOTS FOR TAKING THIS FIT AWAY FROM HER!!!

I want the shadow with two unblinking eyes back!!

The parallels between Cassandra Cain and Jason Todd are crazy.

Cassandra Cain’s kindness and compassion is rooted in the violence and hate from her childhood.

Jason Todd’s violence and hate is rooted in the kindness and compassion from his days as Robin.

Jason Todd was murdered by somebody when he was young and that defined the rest of his life.

Cassandra Cain murdered somebody when she was young and that defined the rest of her life.

Jason has murdered people after his death. Cass has been murdered after she killed. But what defines them will forever be what happened first.

Two sides of the same coin, the two roles in a murder.

The killer and the killed.

Zombieworld AU (1)

A/N: As promised! I'm not sure how many people saw the original bit of the game, but shoutout to @monachosis who was the first on interacting with this post!

No one expected Billy to survive, is the thing.

As one of the smaller kids on the street and with little strength to speak of, he'd never gotten to keep the nicer hideaway spots in the city.

He hadn't been able to stay in homeless shelters much either; They'd always ask why he was alone or they'd try and call social services on him.

His odds had been stark, laid out plain like that - small and weak and with no way to find a reliable place to eat or sleep.

Billy wouldn't have bet on himself either when the first wave hit.

But he does.

Survive that is.

Squished under a small pocket in a demolished building, a little lean-to he'd dug out for himself with his ratty backpack hugged to his chest and just about all his clothes on for warmth, he'd been too deep down, too difficult to reach, too insignificant a target when the whole world went to hell.

Billy remembers that first night in flashes. Remembers waking from his uncomfortable dozing to screeching tires and screams.

The bits of the sky he'd seen through the gaps between crumbling concrete and rebar had glowed a dull red, and there'd been an awful, thick stench of burning petrol in the air.

A car accident. He'd thought so simply at first.

But it had kept happening. Louder and louder and all over the place.

Desperate screaming and things breaking and this raw, savage sound in the background accompanying everything - Billy remembers that he'd thought of the dog he'd seen once, with rabies.

All slavering and thoughtless and violent to anything and everything that came close.

Just like that, but everywhere and instead of the way the dog had let him be when Billy had gotten far enough, whatever it was, was attacking everything.

Billy remembers shaking, hands clasped around his nose and mouth, with shallow vents between his fingers for air, lungs heaving rapid and shallow.

Had it been instinct, then? Something prey-like in his hindbrain telling him not to make a sound.

His heart gone rabbit-quick, slamming against his ribcage.

More and more screaming, people begging and a wet tearing all overlayed by that awful, awful savage sound filtered down to Billy.

His mind had gone blank.

How long he'd stayed like that, Billy hadn't known, but eventually the sky brightened - dull red fading to black then purples and then lightening to blue sky and Billy had stayed like that until the bits of the sky through the gaps stung to look at and everything was getting uncomfortably warm.

Billy remembers thinking later or trying to think anyway that he'd made the right choice, so to speak.

Getting out would have taken precious minutes and would have left his back to open air as he leveraged himself out.

Plus, he'd had no idea what was out there. He wouldn't have been able to help anyone.

Hiding had been his best bet.

Like a coward.

Billy had dug himself out of the building's remains, telling himself that and stepped out into a world completely changed.