6 Times Midnighter’s Crush On Dick Was Shown

You’re Dick Grayson. 

You’re tortured, your identity is revealed to the world, and then you’re killed. Right after that, everyone you care about cries over you because they think you’re dead. Then your dad beats you up and tells you that you have to go undercover to protect the people you love. You know that people are going to be mad at you for it, and you’re not sure they’re going to understand why you’re doing this thing you really don’t want to do. 

You tell your dad that your relationship with him will never be the same because of this. You’ll never be “his boy” again. Your dad tells you it’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make. It hurts you almost as much as the next punch does. 

So you go do your mission. It’s hard because you don’t have your usual support system to help you get through it. All you have is a little device that you sometimes call your dad on, and then one day you don’t even have that because your dad stops answering, and you don’t know why. You ask him, no, you beg him to let you come back home because you did what you came there to do, and you don’t know what you’re supposed to do next, but more than anything, you just want to come home. 

To make matters worse, you’re confronted by the man who murdered you, and he happily reminds you of this all while trying to take kryptonite from you. He also shows you that the technology you’re using while undercover can control your body. Now you know you can’t trust anybody, including yourself. 

You decide, fuck it, and go back home because you’re sick of this undercover shit. More importantly, you don’t know if your dad is dead or if something bad happened that forced him to abandon you. 

When you get home, you find out that your dad has amnesia and doesn’t remember you. Your brothers spit accusing words at you for lying to them even though your dad is the one who forced your hand on the issue. One of them punches you because he’s so mad at you for pretending to be dead. You don’t know how to explain to either of them that you really did die. At this point, you’re not sure they would even care. 

You go to see one of your best friends next, and when you try to explain things to her, she tells you you’re a disappointment. She doesn’t understand how hard you fought your dad to avoid doing all of this in the first place. She doesn’t understand that people, including your dad, took advantage of you when you were physically, mentally, and emotionally fragile. You know she doesn’t know all of this, but it doesn’t matter. 

It still hurts. 

And then… and then there’s your youngest kid brother. Your Robin. Your heart stops when you see him because what? He’s alive? You’re frozen in shock, but your Robin isn’t. He flips into your arms and, suddenly, you’re hugging him. He’s warm and alive, and there’s no mistaking that this is your Robin. This is your kid. And your kid isn’t like the others. He’s just as thrilled to see you as you are to see him. You hug him hard enough to hurt, and your cheek is pressed tightly against his. It’s everything you wanted, and you don’t think anything can beat this feeling. 

You’re proven wrong when your kids says, “I missed you,” in a voice that’s incredibly sincere and full of pure, unadulterated happiness. 

I love you, you think while closing your eyes and gripping him even tighter. 

What comes out of your mouth is, “I know, kiddo. Me too. Me too.”

good essays i’ve read this year

“the siren song” by nina maclaughlin

“out there: on not finishing” by devin kelly

“illuminating kirinyaga: meaing and knowing in mount kenya’s forests” by tristan mcconnell

“on the igbo art of storytelling” by ikechukwu ogbu

“poetry fills tehran streets as iranians adapt nowruz rituals to corona restrictions” by alex shams

“writing emails to my late father” by krista stevens

“panic is worse than pain: how fiction failed me after trauma” by jenn ashworth

the way that everything abt carter and sadie’s personalities feels so grounded in their past is something i appreciate so much.

carter’s desperate need for stability plus his arc of becoming more comfortable being in positions of power and authority? so clearly come from his constant traveling and julius always being there to protect him while carter hides that it feels stupid to even point out.

sadie is rebellious and brash while having tremendous love+respect for authority figures like bast and bes not bc she’s contradictory, but bc she is so desperate for love and affection she didn’t get from her parents and is terrified that everybody in her life will ignore her, just leave her suddenly, or both.

it’s more than like contrast for the sake of contrast; carter and sadie’s differences feel real and fleshed out in a way similar foils don’t rly get in children’s lit idk

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Merry Christmas.

This is part of the @damijonsecretsanta for @wisdom-walks-alone 

I hope you like it.

My twitter

Personalmente quería que conservara la faldita xD pero adoré mucho el diseño de Damian uvu sobre todo por sus pompones en la cabeza xD

I dunno if this is a hot take or what but it would have been infinitely more fun if demigods were obviously eldritch in nature. just...very off-putting. weird eyes, weird blood, they just feel wrong to mortals, even if they cant see through the mist.

Demigods are half divinity. Half burning immortality and golden blood wrapped in fragile human skin. You can see it, sometimes, if you look close enough. Their skin seems barely able to contain all of them and their eyes burn with it. Perseus Jackson's got eyes too green and Leo Valdez's skin ripples with flame. Piper McLean's tongue drips gold and Hazel Levesque always looks like she could turn to dust any second. Jason Grace tastes like lightning and feels like a thunder cloud, while Frank Zhang's bones seem to shift under his skin constantly.

Demigods, godlings, are the foot soldiers of the gods. They are born for death and bloodshed in a never-ending war, whether they like it or not. Mortals can see that. They can see they way they ripple and move, like a mirage on a hot road. Demigods are meant to straddle the line, so they can never be truly normal to either side. Never belong to either. Not truly a god, but never just a mortal.

Sometimes, a mortal lover can brush their hand up against their demigod beloved and find nothing but air, their hand ghosting through skin like they were made of smoke and ash. Demigods don't seem real, don't feel it either and people notice. They keep quiet though, and watch them. Moving like shadows through water, never quiet corporeal.

Larger than life, ready to erupt and maybe that's why demigods die young. Not because of monsters, but because they are not built to last. They are made from gold ichor, and belief that has existed for thousands of years. But they are also made from flesh and blood. And that makes them unstable. Fragile.

Ready to spark and burn and die like a flare at a moment's notice.

Spicy hot take because I was in the pjo tags and saw some people clowning on a post discussing the issues with HOO

some video essays that make me go absolutely bonkers fucking yonkers:

how media scares us: the work of junji ito

control, anatomy, and the legacy of the haunted house

joel schumacher’s phantom of the opera: a video essay

who’s afraid of modern art: vandalism, video games, and fascism

the most disturbing painting

whiplash vs. black swan — the anatomy of the obsessed artist

van gogh’s ugliest masterpiece

a brief history of the dead in art

the nightmare artist

horror books have lost their identity

gone girl — don’t underestimate the screenwriter