Wore this in jan 2023 for my first ever jfashion tea party, hosted by the sweetheart who started my local comm. I don't wear this elegant kind of sweet any more but this dress is one of my favorites still đź’•

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Wore this in jan 2023 for my first ever jfashion tea party, hosted by the sweetheart who started my local comm. I don't wear this elegant kind of sweet any more but this dress is one of my favorites still đź’•

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22. “You’re bleeding through the bandages.” + Dick?
you can read on ao3 here
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Wally West: can you check on dick for me??? hes not answering me
Of all of the texts Tim had thought he’d be getting today, this one definitely came out of nowhere. It’s not like Tim wants to tell Wally no, but—
Dick isn’t in Gotham right now, Tim texts back. Anxiety shivers down his back as the worst case scenarios start to creep into his mind. Should I be worried?
hes at the manor
Tim furrows his brows. Instead of answering Wally, he hits Dick’s contact and presses call. It rings out, but Tim, in his bedroom in the manor, can hear the sounds of Dick’s ringtone faintly playing down the hallway.
What the hell? When did Dick even get there? Tim has been here since he came home from patrol last night, and it’s noon. Tim has been up for hours and he hadn’t heard anything to signal that anyone else besides Alfred is even here.
Damian’s at school. Duke is on patrol. Bruce is on a mission with the Justice League, which is probably why Wally hasn't come to check on Dick himself. Wally’s never really listened to Batman’s “no metas in Gotham” rules, even when it was more strictly enforced.
With Duke, the rule has completely gone out the window.
Tim abandons his bed and makes for Dick’s room, ending the call as soon as Dick’s bedroom door comes into view. Dick never picked up. The bedroom door is open, like it usually is whether Dick is here or not, so Tim doesn’t feel bad about peeking in.
There’s a lump under the covers about Dick’s size. Tim snaps a picture and sends it to Wally.
“Delete that,” Dick says, startlingly Tim slightly. So much for being asleep. Bat-trained hyperawareness is a skill they’ve all developed to some degree, but Dick has been doing the vigilante thing for twenty years. Of course he caught Tim sneaking a picture of him.
It’s annoying, because Tim can’t even see his face.
“Wally asked me to check on you,” Tim says, trying to force his nerves to go back to normal. “Are you alright?”
“Tell Wally I’m fine.” Dick sounds annoyed.
Tim bites his lip. He pulls up his messages with Wally again. In response to the picture, Wally has written back, actually check on him please i can guarantee hes not sleeping
He told me to tell you he’s fine. What happened? Anything specific I should ask about?
check if hes bled thru the bandages he wont tell you he got shot i bet i gtg ill check in later
“You were shot?!” Tim cries, throwing his phone on the foot of Dick’s bed and climbing up after it. He tries to keep the jostling to a minimum, but he needs the momentum to rip away the covers from where Dick’s using them to hide.
“Tim!” Dick hisses as Tim successfully pulls away the blanket, leaving Dick blinking at his sunlit bedroom, looking awfully pale. Tim searches frantically for the stark white, but can’t seem to find them. Dick’s wearing a loose hoodie—Bruce’s or Jason’s by the looks of it—and sweats.
“Where were you shot?” Tim demands, sitting back on his heels, blankets still clenched in his hands. “And why am I finding out from Wally?!”
“It was an arrow, not a bullet,” Dick grumbles, collapsing back into his pillow with a muted wince. “And you didn’t hear about it because it’s embarrassing.”
Tim squints at Dick. “You’re acting weird.”
“You’re interrupting my nap,” Dick counters. “I’m grumpy because you woke me up.”
“You weren’t sleeping,” Tim tells him. He looks Dick over again. His brother is pale, yes, but there are dark shadows under his eyes. He looks exhausted. It hits Tim, then. “Oh.”
Dick lifts his head up enough to peer suspiciously at Tim. “Oh?”
“Wally said he could guarantee you weren’t sleeping,” Tim says. “Which means you got hurt because you aren’t sleeping.”
Dick sighs, dropping his head again to stare up at the ceiling. “Wally needs to mind his own business.”
“He sounded worried,” Tim tells him, chewing on his lip. He feels it split open again, which reminds him that he needs to grab some more gum. Alfred is going to kill him if he finds out Tim hasn’t been careful. Looking back to Dick, Tim sighs. “Are you actually okay? Like not in danger of bleeding out?”
Dick lifts up his hoodie. There are spots of red dotting the white gauze wrapped around Dick’s torso. It’s not a lot, not enough to be super worried, but still.
“You’re bleeding through the bandages,” Tim tells him.
Dick hums, closing his eyes. “Alfred’s coming to change the bandages in a few minutes.”
Silence descends on the room in a way Dick doesn’t usually let it. Tim forgets sometimes how well Dick can keep away awkwardness, and when Dick doesn’t try, it seems to settle between them like an elephant stomping about the room. Tim doesn’t know how to talk around it.
It’s been like this since Dick first became Batman, and Tim has never known how to fix it. If there’s even the possibility of fixing it.
There’s too much that’s happened between them for things to slot into place when it’s Tim directing their interactions.
It’s probably unfair to both of them that TIm wishes that Dick would pretend that everything is okay between them.
“You’re really alright?” Tim asks again.
Dick sighs. “Tired, really. I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“Oh,” Tim says.
Dick smiles at him. He really does look exhausted, but Tim doesn’t know how to fix that. “I’ll be okay, Timmy. Thanks for checking on me.”
“You should text Wally back,” TIm says, instead of addressing all of the complicated feelings that come after Dick’s thank you. “He’s the one who told me that you were here.”
“Oh trust me,” Dick huffs. “I’ll talk to Wally.”
“Can I stay?” Tim asks after another minute of silence. He digs his phone out from underneath him and carefully doesn’t look at Dick. “At least until Alfred gets here?”
“Yeah, Tim,” Dick says fondly. “You can stay. Always.”
3, 4, 5, 8, and 23?
3. A concept or plot that you thought was squandered in a story
The Girl at Silver Thistle by Max Hale could have been such a fun story of female friendship--a girl at an isolated railway station gets a friend when the daughter of a railroad tycoon has to stay and recover from an injury--but it glossed over all the relationship potential to give us a cliched story about a spunky kid trying to stop some outlaws.
4. An underutilized setting or world
The Faint of Heart by Kerilynn Wilson is set in a world where people can remove their hearts to avoid feeling the pain of strong emotion, and we get barely any exploration of what this means for society, instead focusing on a disappointing mystery plot.
5. A character you want to rescue from the story they’re in
I would like to save Antigone from her tragedy, if possible.
8. A book you thought you would hate but loved
I don't think I thought I'd hate it, but I thought Antigone was going to be one of those "check off another classic from the list" books that I'd read because it was a classic and never think about again. I didn't expect to love it as much as I did.
23. A highly-hated or derided book you love
I am a Mansfield Park fan and will always defend Fanny Price.
Many happy returns of the day! Wishing you a splendid birthday!🎂
(Have a knife to cut the cake🔪 Or for any other activities!)
Thank you very much! One of my housemates made a delicious tres leches cake (my favorite), so we did have a sweet use for them. We'd forgotten to get candles so J donated one of his old Hanukkah candles to the cause, my mother made cream puffs, and the restaurant we went to gave me a free dessert (rice pudding with cardamom and honey) when they found out it was my birthday, so I'm very full but it was a great time.
Epiphany, my first favorite from Folklore, please?
I love epiphany! (I don’t always love the upslide after rifle lol.) It’s a song that’s important for me when I fall down the rabbit hole of listening to or reading a specific type of cynical/jaded Taylor appreciation. As I sometimes do? And this is always a song that that type of fan (see: the swiftologist on instagram; actually DON’t lol) really hates. But it’s so important because it’s such a core part of her. It’s so sincere. It’s so clear-eyed. It’s so kind. But also I just think it’s good. I think it works.
There’s a gravity to epiphany —or maybe that’s not the word. There’s a meditative quality to it that just makes you sit with what she’s saying and, to me, transforms the earnestness that could be too much or a little cringe or the lyrics that are just too simplistic (the really critical part of my mind feels all of those things sometimes) into something that, when I actually listen to it, I find really poignant and am moved by every time. It’s the light through stained glass of it all! It is the organ music in an empty church. It is full of a hushed compassion!
So much of Taylor’s magic to me is the way she says things, not the what. She has such a natural balance to her tone. The introduction of the word epiphany a minute plus into the song is the key to me. (Every time she repeats the epiphany line—my favorite part of the whole thing.) She pulls off comparing world war 2 and hospital crises (in a way I would not recommend most people try) because she dips down into the line “but you dream of some epiphany” and somehow captures one of the spiritual truths about human suffering in a way that does feel revealing. And surprising. She sings it softly, she understands it is not the time for her sharp cleverness or her keen perception. But to recognize the mysterious quality both of suffering and how we handle it. And she doesn’t belabor it, and she doesn’t sugarcoat it, and she doesn’t overdo it. That is a really hard balance to strike! Many many artists cannot do that. And few pop stars would ever bother trying. And that’s why fans of Taylor who enjoy her as a kind of mean and messy diva who is there to “serve” or whatever, see: the swiftologist, are not going to get it.

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Drive the Wedge snippet, perchance?
HAPPILY
this is from chapter 1, which i am like. a hair's breadth from posting aaaaaaa. river is coming to some... concerning conclusions :)
Back at Les Arbres, River had only gotten a few brief looks at the person who had come out of nowhere in the burning building and tried to kill him. Still, he remembers that face. It would be hard to forget someone who tried to murder you, no matter how much else had been going on at the time. Frank Harkness. Frank Harkness is standing over River, holding the end of what he thinks is a catch pole, the kind animal control uses to restrain dangerous dogs, the looped cord of which is pulled tight around River’s neck. Patrice stands beside him, looking out into the dark distance beyond the gravel driveway as if there’s nothing particularly interesting happening in his more immediate proximity. He’d been in that photograph. River hadn’t thought about it until he’d been in the boot for quite some time. It was after the first transfer between cars that he had been trying to cobble together as much information as he could recall about his abductor, just for something, anything that was even vaguely useful to do. That was when he had remembered the photograph, the one that Flyte had taken off of him. Patrice had been in that photo, along with Frank, Bertrand, and Yves. Bits of information are starting to come together, click into place like the pieces of a horrid little puzzle. River swallows thickly, feels the plastic-coated cord cut deeper into his throat. This is bad. This is all very, very bad.
Did you get a chance to read Emily Wilde and the Compendium of Lost Tales? Did you like it?
I didddd!! It was such a charming book, Emily Wilde is so iconic
Could I request the scene from SG-1 “The Light” when Daniel starts coding and Jack has to grab him and carry him through the Stargate immediately? Gif set or photo set, whichever you prefer?
here is your request !!
leave request(s) here !!