#doesn't really work

[montysoup]

'Can 2 men not just be friends?'

Sure they can, infact it's rude to assume they're anything more than that if they're real-life people. Of course, just because it's rude doesn't mean your wrong but as my dad (and lots of other people I'm sure) likes to say, 'assuming makes an ass out of you and me'.

However if the 2 men in this situation are fictional then them just being friends is entirely up to interpretation.

A straight person might just see them as friends because it's content and we all like to see content that represents us -even if they already have abundances of it.

And a queer person might see them as potential lovers, both due to being more open-minded to something like that and because, as I previously said, people like to be represented.

Now I don't mean to say straight people aren't open minded because, fact is, your sexuality does not define how open you are to things. All I'm saying is a queer person is more likely to already be open-minded due to having to realise their sexuality is different from the perceived 'normal' and having to be accepting of it.

So in conclusion, yeah 2 guys can absolutely only be best pals but that might just be how only you see it, and maybe there's something you need to look deeper into if you're getting upset at people interpreting the relationship of 2 fictional guys as romantic.

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

Physically? I am sitting in my bedroom. Mentally? Spiritually? I AM DEAD ON THE FLOOR!!!!! THESE TWO HAVE KILLED ME!!!!

(Another drawing! This was originally attempt #1 at drawing stan, and then fiddleford just showed up. Kinda feels like them five minutes after the above acting like nothing happened though, so it works sdjkgkjfshj)

[monstermonger]

Napping under a blanket of cherry blossom petals…

Itty Bitty Spring Dragon Stickers ♡

[muffinlance]

Consider: Post-canon Zuko wakes up in the body of his childhood self, the morning of That War Meeting. Would he still speak against the plans, knowing his fate? What do you think he would do differently the second time around?

"Turned away at the doors, Zuzu?"

"Shut up, Azula," her brother sulked. But sulked weirdly, after staring at her too long and too wide-eyed, not like she'd surprised him but--

But like he hadn't expected her to be there. At all.

He turned away. ...He turned back. "Hey, Lala? Do you think you could help me practice that one set?"

He didn't meet her eyes.

She narrowed hers. "Which set?"

"The one I'm bad at."

She scoffed. Pushed away from the wall she'd been leaning against. "That's all of them, Dum-Dum."

He didn't shout or stomp or yell about the nickname. His lips twitched.

"It's okay," he said. "If you're afraid you won't be a better teacher that my instructor..."

It was the most obvious manipulation ever.

Perhaps if he proved an adequate firebending student, she'd work on his courtly survival skills next. Honestly, it was good that not even Uncle Gets-Cousins-Killed had been fool enough to take Zuko into that war meeting. She could only imagine how terribly that could have gone.

"Keep up," she said, and turned her steps towards the training grounds.

He did. There, and during the katas she ran him through.

Azula kept her eyes narrowed.

"Hey," he asked, "do you know how to bend lightning yet?"

As if he could have missed it, if she'd been able to get more than sparks. "I will soon," she said.

"You will," he agreed, and flowed through his next set. The one she'd only just mastered.

Father didn't notice how weird Zuzu was being. Uncle never noticed anything. Zuko ate dinner and asked a servant for seconds and didn't stutter or flinch or lose his appetite when father asked, coolly, what he'd done with his day. Azula's shoulders tensed, because one mention of how she'd squandered her own training time teaching him--

"Azula hogged the training grounds. For hours," Zuzu scowled, exactly like a petulant thirteen year old.

Exactly like he hadn't been acting all day.

By the time Father was looking her way, Azula had her usual smirk in place. "I'm sure there would be room for both of us," she said, "you're not afraid of a little friendly fire, are you, brother?"

Zuko sulked. And ate his seconds, like he was enjoying each bite. There was something in his eyes, like a joke no one else was getting.

---

Father died that night. A heart attack. There were the faintest of burns to either side of the treacherous organ; the royal physician hypothesized that he'd grabbed at his chest, fingers burning hot in his final moments; so hot they'd only exacerbated the problem.

The royal physician would never have been brought any victims of lighting strikes. Those that occurred in the capital did not generally require a doctor in the aftermath.

Zuzu ate a hearty breakfast.

He didn't order seconds. Azula gave him points, at least, for not being tacky.

---

The sages named Iroh as regent.

They named Zuko as Fire Lord.

"No," the tiny Fire Lord in his perfectly miniaturized Fire Lord robes said, sitting at the head of his war council. "We're not doing that. And I'll be reviewing all recent battle plans, as well. What's this I hear about a division of new recruits being deployed to the front?"

He did not mention how he'd heard of the 41st Division. No one asked.

"Prince Iroh, surely--" one of the generals tried to appeal.

The young Fire Lord's regent was looking as startled as the rest of them, for a moment. Then he sipped his tea, and smiled.

"Your Fire Lord is correct, of course. A change in our leadership--a change the other nations may mistakenly view as weakness--will necessitate a change in our strategy."

"Now," said their lord, "what, exactly, is our overall objective in this war?"

War, the new Fire Lord decreed, was not an end unto itself.

---

The new Fire Lord continued to have time, to pretend to be trained by her. Azula watched him. Adjusted her footwork. Did not tolerate, and was not offered, any commentary on who was teaching who.

"What did you do with my brother?" she asked, as they flowed from one set to the next. As her hands, poised to throw fire, just so happened to be pointed his way.

He missed a step. It didn't look like an act.

"I'm, uh. Right here?"

She didn't bother to dignify that.

He didn't bother to look worried about her hands, one movement off from a true attack.

He looked around, then grabbed her sleeve, and tugged her further from any walls that may hide ears. The royal family's private training grounds were wonderfully large, and wonderfully open.

"It's me," he said. "It's still me. Just. More of me? Longer of me?"

She narrowed her eyes. A familiar expression, by this point. "Explain."

"...I found the Avatar," he said. "And this is definitely his fault, but--but I guess it started at a war meeting, when I was thirteen."

Azula listened. It was a very Dum-Dum story.

[bottle-of-harpoons]

Headcannon: Silver is the whitest boi

Blaze made him a jumper because she's tired of losing him all the time.

[pillowspace]

People are always like "I can't make this AU/fic/drawing because someone else has already done something with that concept" as if the creator of that work didn't make it because they wished somebody else had

[lucabyte]

even dogs pass the mirror test

[sugurusladyknightt]

➺ suguru x gn!reader

if you set a timer to nap suguru will absolutely sabotage you.

let me set the scene. you're getting comfortable laying on his chest his arms secured around you and your eyes closing with a content hum and then suddenly your like 'oh hold on' and grab your phone to set a timer then promptly explain that you have something to do so you don't wanna oversleep during your nap and end up losing time.

but you're so tired, he knows a short nap won't be enough rest though, he says nothing. you get comfortable on his chest again, your cheeks smooshed against his skin and doze off shortly after thanks to the soothing hand at your back and head and the warmth of his skin. when you're asleep this man will fully just grab your phone and cancel the timer, that way, you get all the rest your body needs undisturbed and wake up when your ready.

if it's assignments or notes or anything really that he can do for you, then he will do it for you. taking neat concise notes for you, or finishing up your research paper. no this is not a violation of academic integrity because you are his baby. you are his person and he is yours so to anyone else you may as well be the same person, and anyway he isn't plagiarizing or cheating. suguru does a really good job actually.

when you wake up later, dry eyes slowly blinking away the sleep and readjusting to the light. the skin of your cheek turned pink from how long it's been resting against him softly greeting him in a small raspy voice. when you wake up enough to realize the timer hadn't gone off and reach over to your phone to check the time, the sleep leaves you so fast. you're frenzied, panicked, confused. as if you've been splashed with cold water. suddenly awake and upset about all the time you had wasted what about the timer? how are you supposed to finish everything now?? only for you to find everything done and neatly organized for you to look over, anything with a tight deadline? already sent in.

oh. well.. now that you have nothing that urgently needs your attention (besides him) you can lay back down on his chest and continue where you left off 🙂‍↕️

[queeniewithabeanie]

The Dreamcatcher

Dpxdc Prompt #26

All vigilantes get bad dreams. Of the ones they couldn't save, the criminals that got away, even of their fellow heroes dying. When you take up the cape you are practically signing an agreement for nightmares to haunt your sleep.

It's apart of the job, no matter how terrible.

One night after a long patrol, when the Bats were all dreading sleep, it was Steph that brought it up.

"We should get dreamcatchers. Hang em up on our doors, they'd help."

No one responded immediately, every single one of them knew that was a pipedream, including Steph.

"If it makes you feel better, go for it Steph." Dick finally obliged, after a too-long awkward silence.

When the intricate dreamcatchers appeared on the doors to their bedrooms a week later no one took them down. They all had ways to cope and if Steph giving all of them dreamcatchers gave her comfort who were they to deny it? Plus it was nice to have a bit of hope, no matter how fragile.

They didn't expect the dreamcatchers to actually work.

Danny had been dragged, beaten, and broken beyond repair by the GIW. He barely escaped their clutches with his half-life still intact and ran off to the closest city he could find, Gotham.

He built a life there, and slowly but surely the threat of the GIW only appeared as a background thought of his waking mind. It was a different story, however, when he was asleep.

They still hurt him every night, only difference was they weren't there to document it and look at him like guinea pig.

So Danny, like the problem-solver he was, made his own solution. After a few too many close calls with Nocturn he had found a way to infuse dreamcatchers with just enough ectoplasm to make them actually work. If they could repel an ancient ghost what was a few bad nightmares? He didn't have money to spare to buy one so he made his own and hung it up by his door.

He started sleeping better, with no nightmares of his own to haunt him, but that didn't mean his nights stopped being interrupted by screams. Not his own, no, apparently living in a city with so much crime and grime could lead to it's own traumatic experiences.

His neighbor's daughter had been kidnapped and trafficked, only recently brought back into his custody. She was 5 and Danny's heart broke every time he woke up to her shrieking.

So he made her a dreamcatcher too.

And then she told some of her friends who had also been hurt by someone, because who in Gotham hadn't, and they requested some dreamcatchers from him as well.

Word spread and soon Danny had a suitably profitable business on his hands.

He didn't charge much, most of his clientele could barely afford food, but he still needed to eat too.

Then the vigilante Spoiler came up to him and asked if he did custom orders.

Danny could see the hope behind the white eyes of her domino, desperation from years of built of pain and suffering.

"No usually, no, but if it's for the heroes of Gotham I can make an exception."

[starry-bi-sky]

im being hit with The Visions again

the Vision this time is a "homeless danny in gotham" au except its pre-robin Batman again because im on a batdad kick. --------------------

Danny finds a car.

Which-- isn't, like, anything super interesting or impressive. It's Gotham, it's a big city. There's cars on every corner, can't throw a stick without hitting one somewhere. And then setting off the alarm.

But-! It's a car, and it's past midnight-- or he thinks it might be past midnight, it's late enough to be. He doesn't have a watch and he left his phone at Vlad's; asshole put a tracker on it after the last time Danny ran off.

It's been over a month since, it's a new record -- last time it took just over two weeks for Vlad to find him and drag him back to the mansion. This time, Danny ran further. Left the state and everything. See how long it takes Vlad to find him now, hah.

People go missing all the time in Gotham.

Anyways-- there's a car, and it's midnight, and it's parked in an alleyway. Danny would've called it invisible with the way he pretty much trips over it, phasing through the wall of the building beside it and not watching where he's going, but it's not. So he doesn't.

Danny runs into the hood and nearly faceplants right into the darn thing with an 'oomph', hands catching himself on the metal as a flash of irritation flashes hot through his gut. It doesn't hurt or anything, but getting the wind knocked out of you sucks always, and he's tired and hungry, and as a result not in the best state of mind.

He's just about to sink his foot into the side of the wheel -- it wouldn't do anything, he's not that big of an asshole, but it's the principle -- when he stops.

Danny pauses.

He takes a step back, holding his hands out 'n' everything, and examines the car. He squints, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness, considering the closest streetlight is twenty feet that way and positioned in a way that none of the light is hitting it.

Danny would not call himself a car guy. He doesn't think he counts, considering his size and lack of everything. But, but, he knows his way around a few cars, and he had an old obsession with older models when he was little that kinda petered out of existence after his accident. Had a bunch of little car models sitting on one of his shelves back in Amity, and Dad offered to get his hands on an old car for the two of them to fix up together so it'd be ready for Danny when he got his license.

...Anyways.

Point is: Danny can appreciate an old car, and this car has an older -- albeit obviously modified, if the matte paneling and plated wheels meant anything -- look to it. That kind of flat top went out of style years ago, and it's got this kinda rectangular look Danny doesn't see often these days on modern cars.

Other than the electrical cars, but he doesn't think those count. That's boxy, not rectangular.

Danny frowns, tilts his hands down, and leans back further as if that will let him get a better look at this thing. "...What model is this?" He mutters, it's hard to tell in this lighting.

Wait, he should see if there's anyone in the car. It's not running or anything, and nobody's come out to yell at him -- or shoot him -- but, still. People are crazy in Gotham, crazier than they've ever been in Amity. The last thing he needs to do is piss off some guy from the mob.

Danny peers into the window and-- there's no window, okay. Well, no window, and no driver. Some idiot left their car unprotected and without windows, in Gotham?

He pulls on the door handle just to be annoying -- it doesn't budge. Okay, maybe not that stupid. Especially since Danny didn't even see it until he was quite literally running into it.

So. Not that stupid.

Danny looks around warily, pulling his hoodie around him tighter, and then starts circling the car slowly. Like a vulture. No license plate; shocker. Hear how shocked he is? Clutching his pearls right now.

"Reinforced bumper. Cool." he says, er- whispers, really, quiet enough that it doesn't even echo. Danny squats in front of the car and runs his hands over the -- what, should he even call this a bumper? It's bigger than his head, and it's covering the grille. He picks at these... things on the side that remind him of leather straps. Probably to keep this bumper up? Like a ratchet strap?

Danny leans back until his butt hits the ground and he can sit back properly, propping himself up on his hands -- maybe not a good idea. There's probably broken glass somewhere here and he doesn't wanna pick shards out of his palms, again. It's like popping the world's most annoying zit depending on if it gets under the skin.

(He could always just phase them out, but the picking gives him something to do. It doesn't hurt that much.)

Eh. It'll be fine.

With one knee propped up, Danny looks the front up and down, and furrows his brows. The style kinda reminds him of a dodger, especially with the placement and style of the headlights. He plants his hands on the concrete -- hissing when he feels something cut into his palms, ow, there's that glass he was talking about -- and leans down to look under the car.

Hm, nothing jutting out that much. Looks pretty normal. Good space between the bottom and the ground.

He gets up and circles the side again, brushing whatever pebbles or glass that could've stuck into his skin off. He's really curious about where the owner got matte plating for it, or if it's just a wrap. The silhouette's definitely sixties or seventies; too angular for the eighties and fifties.

...There's no one here, Danny looks around again just to make sure, cranes his ears to catch anything. Nope, just the typical quiet rumbling of Gotham's underbelly. It kinda reminds him of Amity, or-- no. No, it reminds him of the quiet groan of the Zone.

That's far more comforting, he thinks. Danny's never really liked Amity all that much.

Back to the car: there's no one around, so Danny folds his arms against the side of the door and sticks his head inside the window. No keys in the ignition, should've figured.

Not like Danny was planning on stealing the car anyways -- anyone capable of modifying a car into this kinda beast -- or paying someone to modify -- was not someone he wanted to piss off. Danny's an orphan, not stupid.

Ignore the fact that he's got his head stuck through the window. The interior isn't anything interesting, but the seats are made of leather, which is nice. Must be a pain in the summer or winter, but leather is cool, and gets stains out better than cloth.

No stick shift though, he's a little disappointed.

Danny presses his mouth into a line and then slants it, humming in the back of his throat. Honestly, he's kinda tempted to crawl in and go to sleep. The leather seats look really inviting, and he's been sleeping on the ground or on park benches for weeks, and the car is really well hidden. No need to worry about being kidnapped.

But, it still belongs to someone. And they're probably using it for something shady. They'll come back for it eventually, so he should get this gawking over with anyways.

And, and-- and. He wants to get a look at that fucking engine. 'Cause holy shit!

Danny pulls his head out of the window and half-dances over to the back, his hand curling around one of the bars as a grin spreads across his face. Now, Danny hates Christmas, but this, this is like it came early and good for once.

"You could smuggle moonshine with this thing," Danny says to himself, grinning ear to ear and running his hands over the edge of the metal. The car is too conspicuous for backroads driving, but the engine, wow. What a thing of beauty.

One of Auntie's friends would probably know what engine it is -- or what type of engine it's based off of, it could very well be a bunch of different engines frankenstein'd together. Danny doesn't recognize it.

Which means it could be illegal. Again, what a shocker. In Gotham? He's clutching his pearls.

Fully satisfied with himself, Danny dances around to the front again and holds his hands out. He makes an 'L' with both hands and shuts one eye, getting the car within the frame of his fingers like he's about to take a picture.

"I rate you," Danny makes a camera shutter sound and mimics taking a photo, "one cool fuckin' car."

"Thank you."

Danny doesn't scream. He does not. He's taught himself better since ghosts started popping up in Amity, and honestly he deserves some credit for that considering they only started popping up over half a year ago.

He does, however, gasp. And he gasps hard, the type that has a high chance of giving you the hiccups afterwards; the painful, chest-thumping kind. Danny slams both hands over his mouth and stumbles backwards, eyes wide and his heart kicking into the fifth gear in his ears.

Bleeding out from the shadows is a man entirely drenched in black, Danny can hardly make out his silhouette and barely catches the white glints of his eyes. Fear like a prey animal burns in his lungs, wild and rabid, Danny has half a mind to bolt.

His ghost sense didn't go off, which might just be the most terrifying thing.

The man doesn't move any more than a step, just enough that Danny can barely see him, but he can feel him watching him. Shit. Shit. He should've never stuck around.

His hands are still over his mouth, Danny, shaking, flutters them open, "How-- h-- how--" he wheezes, "how long have you been standing there?"

[jollyparaphernalia]

Tomorrow, we're gonna be stardust

[swampybogg]

[bluerosefox]

Eldritch Kidnappings

hmmmm a Kon/Danny/Tim idea? Maybe? Depends if anyone wanna ship all three but leaving it open ended (or if Tim is already dating Bernard just make it a Kon/Danny only?). AND a deaged Ellie.

Red Robin and Superboy (the original) were at a JL meeting. It was boring to be honest. Nothing to much was happening besides the normal stuff for all the heroes there. No big crises or world/universe ending danger.

Or at least it was...

Because not soon after a glowing green portal ripped opened and a large eldritch creature stuck its huge head and half of its body out. Every hero there went on high alert and into fighting stances, ready to defend the Watchtower. Once the creature was halfway in the room its eyes snapped opened, glowing near Lazarus Pit green colored but like brighter? neon?, and darted around the room before stopping right on Superboy.

Without warning or words the creature quickly reached out, using at first two arms/hands before more sprang out and swatted away heroes in the room that attacked. It quickly took a hold of Superboy who tired use his strength to get free but found the being stronger than him. Red Robin, in a panic to save his best friend (and crush, shhh maybe) quickly joined in but instead of being swatted away like the others gets snagged by a hand and soon found himself captured as well.

Just as quickly as the creature appeared, it retreated back into the still open portal, dragging the two with and not caring at all of the powers, fists, or shouting being thrown at it.

Then it was gone.

Leaving the JL in a panic.

-x-x-

"-And thats why I need your help! I understand its a lot to ask but please, any help will be welcomed." the eldritch being, or rather Danny Phantom begged as he worriedly glanced at them.

So... It turns out the eldritch being was a young halfa ghost hero named Phantom that needed their help stabilizing his clone/sister/maybe daughter?

She was apparently melting and needed stable DNA when he had rushed her to a ghost doctor and was told. But Danny had no clue how to stabilize a clone and the fruitloop that cloned him the notes were bare bones and frankly terrible. In his desperate need for help Danny had sought out clues/advice from his mentor who basically pointed him to Superboy and Red Robin in his frustrating riddling way.

Superboy's DNA had the stable cloning gene/code they needed. Red Robin was smart enough to help figure out a way to put it Danielle 'Elle' Phantom. (it also helped that he had dabbled into cloning during his... bad year)

So yeah, Danny in his panic to save his clone went full on eldritch monster and opened a portal during their meeting and dragged them to the Far Frozen where Ellie was currently suspended in a ecto healing pod and was now begging for their help, promising them anything if they helped out.

The catch? If they put Superboy's DNA in Ellie she'll de-age to her true age and no longer be a 'pure' clone.

Instead she'll be their (Danny and Conner's) kid.

[prostoy-brodyaga]

small animation

[franklyopinionated]

An important Percabeth moment that does not get talked about enough is Annabeth's reaction to Sally being pregnant.

Once they find out that Sally is pregnant Annabeth immediately reads Percy and understands that he's sad about potentially missing out on seeing his little sister grow up. Percy didn't even have to say anything. She's just in-tuned with how he could be feeling. And what does she do? She immediately tells Percy TWICE that she would understand completely if he wanted to change all of their plans for California and college in New Rome in order to stay in NYC. She tells him it's completely ok if he no longer wants to go to New Rome with her.

This is a girl who is canonically terrified of being abandoned but she prioritizes how Percy feels above her own feelings and her own trauma and gives him multiple chances to back out of plans that they had for the next steps of their lives together and gives him the option to do so without him feeling guilty about it for her sake. The fact that he assures her that he wants to stick to their plans is sweet but it's even sweeter that she knows him so well.

[adobe-outdesign]

Pokemon is amazing because it started out being coded with duct tape and prayers by a small team of people. flash forward twenty years and guess what? it's now coded with duct tape and prayers by a medium-sized team of people