#feels prompt

[nny11writes]

is that deep feels prompt thing a request? i'll treat it like a request. part 1: 24 "Whyy are you crying?" "I don't know" and part 2: "laughing at yourself while crying". any pairing of your choosing. go fucking crazy!!!

ahjdfkgjsf, sorry this took so long anon!!!

Any time you see I've reblogged a prompt thing/ask a question thing/etc it is 100% there for you to ask or prompt away :D

Anyways I started this in my catrapta mode so I just followed through on that, sorta. There's a crush happening for suresies.

Rating: T for Cursing

Tags: happy ending, hurt/comfort, panic attack, sensory overload, mental health, crying, self blaming, lot of negative talk because this is catra folks I don't know what to tell you, Entrapta is the best at that's a fact, Scorpia makes an appearance, super pal trio, healthy coping? idfk I just projected onto the sad cat, it's my fanfic and I get to give the characters whichever bits of my own mental illness/coping skills that I wanna!, puppy crush catrapta

~

She really should have known better than to try and quietly have a breakdown while at Entrapta’s house, but Catra was never really known for logical decision making. Especially when the choice needing to be made came hot and heavy without warning. She’d been at the sleepover, felt fine, then woke up in a cold sweat at one in the morning with the distinct feeling that it was too late for her to flee. So Catra had barely managed to shuffle to what looked like the least used bathroom in the place, turned on the shower and quickly squeezed under the sink as her mind started to race. 

You know, as you do.

Something in her felt better just by knowing that she wouldn’t bother anyone, and equally important that no one would bother her. If Catra could have pulled the crust of the planet back to slip into a magma flow, she would have. But sobbing uncontrollably at sometime past 1:00 AM at your best friend’s house while said best friends are sleeping nearby is a totally normal and healthy way to deal with whatever this was. Yes, she was going to handle it alone and be fine and no one would be any wiser because it was fucking stupid (she was being so fucking stupid).

But while Scorpia had been snoring away, she’d made a miscalculation by assuming that Entrapta had any sort of sleep schedule that made any sort of sense. Weird out of the blue mental breakdown or not, that one really was on her.

“Why are you crying?” Entrapta asked, sounding the same way she did when someone tried to make small talk that she found particularly confusing.

Why was she crying? The detached bit of her turned to look at what Catra thought of as her inner Rogelio, who was normally very logical and made decisions when she was upset, but the bitch only shrugged. Probably a bad dream. Might be dehydrated. You ate dinner at least so it’s not hunger.

“I-I don’t know!” Catra miserably sobbed. The detached part of her sighed heavily and rolled her eyes while faux Rogelio lifted an eyebrow condescendingly. Yeah, yeah, I know, can’t be hard on myself right now. There was the other eyebrow now completing a look that any exasperated instructor would kill to have. Shut up, I’ll be hard on myself if I wanna! He was less than impressed. Oh fucking well, get in line.

“You don’t know why, but…” Entrapta tilted her head. “Is it a tag in your sleep wear? I can get scissors.”

Humiliating to remember that one, it had practically been her villain origin story over the holidays when everyone kept calling her cute and forcing her to wear different new clothes that were stiff, constraining, and itchy. Somehow Catra had failed to notice the tag in the new pajamas she’d been given and harassed into wearing as a friend bonding thing. She wishes she could blame it on the overly scented detergent Bow used but no, she just missed it. They almost made it to midnight before Catra had a massive freak out starting with her chapped lips and spilling some hot chocolate (not even all of it just a drop or two) and ending with the soul breaking realization that the problem was the tags in her clothes. Who doesn’t realize tags are bothering them until they’re halfway through trying to burn down their own life?

Catra apparently. Fuck she was an idiot and a mess. Detached her looked at Rogelio for confirmation and he nodded. Cool. No tags.Maybe a bad dream. Yeah that made sense at least.

“No, n-nothing like that.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

Catra’s sobbing turned a little hysterical because no duh. Inner Rogelio mentally gave her head a little pat pat, which was making an already awful but slowly becoming absurd situation a little more outrageous. “Yeah, me neither!”

Entrapta stayed squatted where she was, tapping her fingers away on her exposed knees as she looked around for something. Then offered, “Would you like me to turn the light off?”

Her “What?” sounded a lot more like “wah” in her head, and there was bastard Catra right on time. Wow, pathetic much? Couldn’t handle one bad dream and now look at you, a little baby. Always need something, don't you? Crying just to make people do whatever you want. Disgusting. Her fake Rogelio and detached mind were already starting to merge a little and that part of her reminded her of how stupid that sounded. Shadow Weaver nonsense.

“...the lights? Do you want them off? It can help to reduce stimulation.” Entrapta spoke slowly, clearly trying to think through what exactly she was trying to say and how to say it properly.

Oh! Yes, less input, she’d like the whole everything to get a lot less and smaller right now, please! “That would- that would be nice. Uh, hit the, uhm, hit the lights.”

“GREAT!” Entrapta all but leaped to her feet and smacked the light switch hard enough that Catra was sure she’d heard the drywall crack..

But it was also enough for Catra to giggle a little helplessly.

“Gotta commit to the bit.” Entrapta nodded, and even in the darkness Catra could see her smiling brightly. “Can I join you? Not in crying, I hope it’s okay but I don’t really feel like crying tonight. Just under the sink I mean.”

Catra scooted into the corner and waved a hand towards the open space, and within seconds she was surrounded by the grounding cold of the tiles on three sides and the soothing warmth of Entrapta’s arm and leg on the other.

They didn’t talk again, but it was nice when Entrapta eventually got up to turn the shower off. The steam was already starting to make her clothes stick uncomfortably to her, and Catra appreciated not having to talk to have the problem fixed.

Entrapta tapped her toes, wiggled her fingers, and rocked back and forth a little while humming and occasionally popping her lips which provided Catra with something pleasant to focus on instead of the three versions of her that were still trying to duke it out over why she felt so shitty. Which was a feat considering they were slowly melding back together with Catra’s more conscious emotional side. A thoroughly unpleasant feeling as she became a functional human again.

“Wow,” she eventually croaked, trying to scrub the remaining tears and snot off her face, “Hated that. Hated that for me. It was fucking lame.”

Entrapta frowned at her. “That was not lame. Or stupid, I know you really mean stupid when you say lame. It’s your favorite insult.”

Catra did somehow manage to not blurt, “Stupid is a stupid favorite insult, stupid!” and huffed instead. “Well it’s stu- it’s dumb that I don’t even know what set me off.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s stupid.” Entrapta whispered to herself, but it was plenty loud enough for Catra’s sensitive hearing. At a louder level she said, “I’m guessing it’s all the stuff happening right now.”

“What stuff? There’s, like, nothing happening in my life right now.” Catra was confused and her head and throat hurt from all the crying, and she just wanted to sleep for fifteen years and also never sleep again. But if Entrapta said she knew what the problem was, she probably knew exactly in excruciating detail what the problem was. She honestly wasn’t sure if she asked to figure it out or just to make herself feel worse.

“Well, you’re not at your own home. That’s one. You said it was kind of warm too. I know you forgot your meds a few days ago, that could be part of it. Your stomach is sensitive to acidic foods and we had pizza last night-” Entrapta didn’t even list off each point on her fingers, already seeming to know she’d need more fingers than possible. Catra just sat there stiff and embarrassed as her weirdo sins got listed one by one. “-you were worried Glimmer is mad at you, you took the lumpy bed to be nice to Scorpia, Scorpia snores pretty loudly, you’re picking up your car today and don’t know how much it’ll be, and you have that big project due next week. That’s a lot of stuff Catra.”

“You make it sound like my life’s awful.” She grumbled, unable to really provide a rebuttal considering Entrapta was probably right. That was a lot of little things stacked up, so one bad dream would be more than enough to crush her under the weight. Still, it was a lot better than getting vibe checked by DT when she got like this. Their way of helping often hurt a shit ton before Catra managed to shake a few nuggets of good out of it.

“MeeeEEEEeeeeeh,” Entrapta wiggled her hand in a so-so motion. “Not that it’s awful, there’s just a lot. …and I’m sorry I didn’t think about that last night, I should have let you use my bed.”

Catra snorted and groaned as everything flared painfully to life. Yup, she’d been right, she was being stupid and now Entrapta was trying to be stupid with her. “Self sacrifice isn’t good friendship.”

Rule one of the Reformed Super Pal Trio: Sacrificing something to make the others happy does not, typically, make them happy.

Scorpia had to stop giving ground, Catra had to stop taking/assuming blame, and Entrapta had to stop giving up her own physical comforts for others. It was a necessary rule for them to function as a friend group, otherwise Scorpia would start to feel steamrolled, Catra would get resentful, and Entrapta would just straight up shut down. 

“Well, we could’ve shared it. It’s big enough.” Entrapta said this the same way someone might point out an obvious plot point in a cartoon to a small child. A bed. Sharing a bed. With Entrapta? She did not need this in her life right now, that was a whole minefield of feelings she did NOT need right now.

“It’s a full size, that’s barely big enough for two people.”

“We are ‘fun sized’ though,” Entrapta argued, pouting a little as she continued, “besides you’re a real cuddler so we’d basically be a one sized fun size.”

“I am not!” Oh yeah, she was burning up right now.

“Small or a cuddler? You are only three inches taller than me and I can assure you you are snuggly.”

Normally that would be a declaration of war, right now Catra could only whine, “No, I’m not snuggly.”

“...but you are? Do you want to see the photographic evidence?”

“What photographic evidence!?”

Entrapta smiled awkwardly, “I forgot I was not supposed to tell you about that, so don’t worry! There is no photographic evidence to see anywhere, and especially not here, especially not from road trips! OH HEY, I smell coffee! Let’s go get coffee and breakfast!”

Coffee? Oh yeah, Catra could smell coffee too and food. Bacon? How fucking long were we under the sink!? Didn’t matter, she’d spent the night a miserable damp ball of dissociation fragments stuffed into a corner where she’d made Entrapta hang out the whole night to feel better. Stop being an idiot, stupid. Man, maybe stupid was her favorite insult? Huh. Probably more Weaver lies she needed to unpack later. Much later.

Catra was already half dragged out from her hidey hole before Entrapta paused and quietly asked, “Unless you’d rather not? We can stay here if you want to. I don’t mind!”

She scrambled to get her feet under her and not just be pulled like a sack of potatoes. Mmm, potatoes. Her stomach growled pitifully. Inner Rogelio got one last pot shot off before vanishing and leaving her head free of any weird fake versions of herself she compartmentalized into to cope. You ate last night and it’s now morning, eat something. “Only if there’s the little fried boys.”

“Let me check!” And with that Entrapta darted out the door shouting hello to Scorpia who gleefully shouted back a good morning.

Yeah, Catra was going to wash her face and let them get it out of their systems before making an appearance. She still felt off. Tired and sick, both sensitive and a little numb. But considering she was functional and had an appetite, Catra would take the win for what it was. By the time she made it to the kitchen, her friends had both calmed down a little and Entrapta was concentrating while pouring coffee as Scorpia put the last finishing touches on cutting up the toast into little bites.

A plate of eggs, skillet potatoes, toast, and two coffees later she was feeling a lot more human. They hadn’t talked during breakfast, which helped a lot more than she wanted to admit. In fact, Scorpia only made a peep when she coo’d quietly and pointed to Entrapta who was now sleeping on the table, her plate of quail eggs, mini toasts, and bacon cut into cute shapes nearly empty. It would have been darling if not for the raging guilt coursing through Catra’s veins at being the cause.

“Want me to get her?” Scorpia asked softly.

It was tempting, but Entrapta had helped her and it would make her feel better to help her. Did that make her a bad person? Too early for that. She pushed the thought aside to agonize over later. “Nah, I think we both need some sleep.”

“Gotcha, sleep well buddy!”

Did she almost drop Entrapta on the way to her bed? Shut up, maybe, what are you, a cop?

Did she pass out within minutes of settling them both on the super plush mattress? Duh, she had a rough night and Entrapta’s bed was suspiciously comfy. Don’t judge!

Did she wake up to discover Entrapta trying to stealthily take a selfie of her and Catra (who was basically clinging to her like some sort of octopus) together? That information is classified.

Did she feel a lot better thanks to having some really amazing friends? 

Yeah. She did.

[sylvies-kablooie]

i do unironically think the best artists of our generation are posting to get 20 notes and 3 reblogs btw. that fanfic with like 45 kudos is some of the best stuff ever written. those OCs you carry around have some of the richest backstories and worldbuilding someone has ever seen. please do not think that reaching only a few people when you post means your art isn't worth celebrating.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

struck down by the mental image of an android laying down to "sleep" on a mattress shaped charging pad. oof. im experiencing the Emotions. rest well and recharge you dear little electric angel

[cityandking]

oc asks: not-so-nice edition

alone: How does your OC deal with loneliness? Have they ever been completely alone before? How do they act when there's no one around to see them?

betrayal: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?

bound: Has your OC ever been imprisoned or captured? What happened? How did they get out? Did the experience leave any scars?

break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

failure: What's your OC's greatest failure? Have they been able to move past it? Does anyone else know about it?

fear: What is your OC's greatest fear? What do they do when confronted with it? Are they open with their fear, or do they hide it away?

future: What's the worst possible future for your OC? Are they taking steps to avoid that outcome? Are they even aware it's a possibility?

ghost: Who or what haunts your OC? What happened? How do they live with their ghosts?

guilt: What is your OC guilty about? How do they handle their guilt? Do they try to avoid guilt, or do they accept it?

hate: What does your OC hate? Why? How do they act towards the object of their hatred?

heartbreak: Have they ever had a relationship that ended badly? Experienced some other kind of heartbreak? What happened?

hide: What does your OC hide? Why do they hide it?

hunt: Who or what is your OC hunted by? A person, a feeling, a past mistake? Is your OC able to let their guard down, or are they constantly alert?

mask: Does your OC wear a mask, literally or figuratively? What goes on beneath it? Is there anyone in their life who gets to see who they are under the mask?

midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?

mistake: What's the worst mistake your OC ever made? What led to them making it? Have they been able to fix it? How have they moved on?

monster: Is your OC monstrous in any way? Is there something that makes them monstrous? Are they aware of their own monstrosity? Do they accept it or reject it?

nightmare: What does your OC have nightmares about? How do they deal with their nightmares? Do they tell people, or keep it to themself?

pain: What's the worst pain your OC has ever felt? Do they have a high pain tolerance?

secret: What's one secret your OC never wants anyone to know about them?

skin: How comfortable is your OC in their skin? Do they grapple with anything that lives inside them—a beast, a curse, a failure, a monster? How do they face the smallest, weakest, most horrible version of themself? Are they able to acknowledge it at all?

torture: Has your OC ever been tortured? Would your OC ever torture someone else?

wound: How does your OC handle being wounded? Are their wounds mostly physical? Mental? Emotional? What's the worst wound your OC has ever experienced?

[pcktknife]

miku design i dont think i ever posted

[nerdpoe]

Danny needs a few...odd things. A few dietary and emotional requirements unique to his physiology. Meat is one of them.

But like, raw meat. He doesn't have to eat it often, maybe twice a month, but it does need to be completely raw.

He also needs to eat non-sentient blob ghosts, which are very different from sentient ones. Same amount, maybe twice a month.

He's weak to hot temperatures, where most humans require some sort of positive contact he needs to fight, if he gets too much sunlight his dopamine levels drop, and oddly enough as he got older milk or products with a lot of milk started to affect him like alcohol affects humans.

Now that he's made it to college, hiding most of these things is easy enough.

He chose Gotham, because of minimal sunny days and naturally cold weather. He regularly goes for walks at night, to fill his need for fighting. He says he has a milk allergy, and avoids milk products.

The blobs and the raw meat are a little uh. Those are a little hard.

He's taken to ducking into a bathroom stall to just swallow the blobs whole. But the meat...

He decides to sear the outside and leave the inside entirely raw. Does this detract from the nutrients by cooking them off? Yes. Does it mean he needs to eat raw meat four times a month instead of twice? Yes. Does it mostly hide that he's doing this in front of humans? Kind of.

Until he got a vegan roommate.

Said roommate is far too sharp-eyed for his own good, and now the guy is being weird.

Or: Damian's roommate is a meta who clearly has dietary restrictions outside the norm. It's fine; Damian understands that like animals in the wild, people have different diets. But the cuts of meat Fenton is eating are...subpar. Damian isn't sure how to be...civil, or appear polite, or not be a "snob" if he suggests Fenton allow him to procure farm fresh cuts of steak from cows raised in an open pasture and were well taken care of.

[beybuniki]

best friend with social anxiety

[r3ynah]

I Can be everything and anything, at once

A 27 years old Phantom was challenged to a bet, by his co-workers at the watchtower. Green lantern stated along with the the other heroes that If he could help every single one of them at least once in a month while not using any his powers and he also had to be physically and mentally there as he helps them. the cherry on top was that he needed to use his real identity instead of his ghost form in this mission.

If Phantom successfully conceals his civilian identity, while helping them, he gets to know everyone's deepest darkest secrets.

But if he loses, he must do everyone a favor and must keep it no matter how outrageous it is.

Ofcourse Phantom agreed, because he was no bitch, okay so maybe he is, he only accepts bets like this if he knows that'll he'll win. so yeah.

Besides, having no powers for this, is really a piece of cake, if you're a raging gender fluid that knows his way around makeup and can easily change the sound of his voice, to be honest the shapeshifting parts that he got from his powers are basically just add-ons.

Well what was he waiting for? afterall he needed all the blackmail he could get, not as Phantom but as Daniel James Fucking Fenton, this was an opportunity to go batshit crazy and he was absolutely stealing it.

The very first hero Danny approached to help was Wonder Woman, who thanked Danny who was now disguised as a woman wearing a long ass Red wig, and some clothes he "borrowed" from Jazz who just joked about Danny being her twin, and wished him luck.

"Thank you, young lady for your brave actions to help me." Wonder woman sincerely thanked the boy in disguise as she held both of Danny's hands as gratitude "may I ask the name of my savior? "

"My name's El, It's a pleasure to know you." Danny smiled a little wider.

The second was Flash, which Danny found completely amusing because of the way he helped the speedy hero, who tripped while patrolling around the city.

Danny who was now in a more gothic attire( thanks to Sam's help) caught the hero's wrist before he embarrassingly fell face first on the ground.

"You okay there sir?" Danny asked, as he kept a firm grip on the man's wrist to make sure he doesn't fall.

Meanwhile Flash who thought he was in those korea tv romance dramas only blue screened for a few seconds before finally get his shit together. "yeah- um- name's Flash, and you are?"

The hero tripped on his own words, making Danny amused as fuck. "James, it was nice to finally meet you"

Okay, about like three weeks in, and Danny managed to help almost everyone in the watchtower, and only a few more to go,( he didn't get why most of the heroes he helped either started to stutter or blue screen in their spot once they talk to him. like damn is this how all of you treat every civilian who interacts with you? that's just sad) but at this time, Dan and Elle found out, and were now demanding to join, with the excuse of basically being Danny but in alternate or clone form, which Danny had no choice but to give in, I mean he wasn't breaking any rules so technically this was alright.

Danny wanted to take a break so Dan took over this time.

currently Nightwing was observing the outside of the gala, Bruce was invited to, something about a bunch of drugs being hidden within the crowd, and was now being passed around.

He intently remained focused on his observation, while also keeping a conversation with Oracle and the others on the comms, he didn't realize that he was too far off the edge of the railing he was standing on, until he missed a step.

Nightwing would never admit that he let a quiet squeal to his siblings ever as he fell, he closed his eyes and braced for impact, he would never expect to fall into the arms of a man 3x bigger than him, he stared at the man, and the man stared at him. 'holy shit' Nightwing thought.

The man, chuckled making Nightwing internally scream. "When I wished for Desiree, to make someone from above to save me from this trash party, I didn't think it would be one of the birds of gotham, to come and fall for me let alone the handsome one."

Okay Nightwing was now full on red from blushing, he was put down gently by the man on the ground, before offering a handshake, once Nightwing accepted the handshake, Dan pulled the hand closer to his mouth then gave a quick peck on the back of the hand vigilante's hand. "My name's Dan Masters, it's a pleasure to meet you."

his siblings can eat dirt on how they were teasing Nightwing Right now, but this was fucking worth it.

And the last to have gotten help from Danny was John Constantine, Danny actually had a reason on why he saved John for last, and that's because John actually knows Danny's identity, so for this mission he asked the help of his daughter Elle.

Elle had helped John by fixing a ruined summoning circle, who also helped him negotiate with a demon, and somehow all day, Elle just stuck to Constatine's side, her explanation? 'He'll die without me' fair point John thought as he took the kid, to order ice cream and to hangout in the park.

"You know kid, you remind me of someone." Constantine stated while keeping his eyes on what's infront of him, which was just a bunch of trees.

Elle who sat next to him, still eating her Ice cream looked up at him and said. "Really?"

"Yeah like you two literally have the same aura and all just a little different, but I don't know who yet." He replied and ruffled the kid's hair. making the girl laugh.

"Hey John!" Danny greeted behind them, and then all the gears inside of Constantine's head began to work. he let out a groan as he realized the girl beside him was the clone of the man behind him, well he needed to kiss that secret of his goodbye. here on this spot right now or he'll die of embarrassment if he waited any longer.

"Danny, let's go on a date." Constantine stated, not facing the Man.

this comment made the Father and Daughter choke on literal air.

[villowrose]

day 2 - CASUAL

Entry for @glowweek

Out of curiosity of how Steven would look with straight hair, Connie convinces him into straightening his hair. Unsurprisingly, he ends up looking like Greg from the 80s.

I was also going to draw Steven helping Connie dye parts of her hair a teal color, but I had run out of time. might make it later though :D

[euthymiaaa]

— longing for someone prompts ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

im bathing in angst rn, enjoy!

them haunting your mind constantly, but are you even in theirs?

unconciously searching for them wherever, whenever

itching to text them, yet the guilt of pestering them hits

your stomach being on edge whenever you see someone who has a similar figure to theirs

regularly scouring their social media for any updates

them acting so sweetly which turns out to just be a cruel dream

envy creeping up your throat whenever other people hangout with them

taking them off your mind by hanging out with your friends, just for you to only see bits of their personality in your friends

weeping frustruatedly on your knees because you can't stop recalling your memories with them

surrendering to your insecurities; perhaps they truly are better off without you

hopelessly persuading yourself that you were able to go on with life before knowing them, so you can definitely do it after they left

urging the universe to see them one last time before letting them go (it never happens anyways)

"if anyone is listening, please let our paths intertwine again before the day I take my last breath"

[evilminji]

Actually? You know what would be darkly hilarious?

If, when the GIW can't get ghosts declared both malicious AND non-sapient/sentient? They push for "dumb animals" instead.

Which is accepted. Ghosts are animals. Checks out, says scientists everywhere.

HOW "dumb"?

What? Says the GIW, mid-victory high fives. They did not expect a follow up question. They SHOULD have, as this is the SCIENTIFIC community and that is literally their job, but here we are.

How. "Dumb"? The scientists repeate slower. What methodology did you use? What is your sample size? Are their different sub-species? Is this dimension like ours? Is Ghost the equivalent to Mammal? It says here their are humanoid ones.

What IQ are we talking about here and HOW DID YOU TEST??

A goldfish, parrot, and dolphin are all animals. WILDLY different levels of intelligence. You can't treat them the same. Technically speaking, WE are animals.

The GIW does not like where this conversation is going. Tries to shut it down.

.......well NOW the scientists are both offended AND invested. How DARE you try to push faulty science and hide the Truth from them! They're gonna do their OWN studies! *picks up the phone and dials that one embarrassing spiritualist friend they had in college* Hey! You still think you can summon ghosts? I'll pay you to try it for Science!

And like? As a Ghost? It's degrading as hell. But ALSO these fuckos just Whoopsie'd you into having both protections under the law, since animal abuse IS illegal, AND just put the ENTIRE planets scientific community on their asses.... by accident.

So you take a deeeeeeep breath you don't even need. Remember you're doing this for the little ghost babies and fluffy ghost animals. And show up at a research facility like "yes, hello, I am Ghost. Here for you to poke and prod at. Please ask me to name the object on the flash card or whatever IQ tests do these days."

Should you HAVE to prove your own fucking sentience? No. But? You do it. You're even polite about it. Ask for a copy of the study they plan to publish so you can BEAT some mother fuckers with it. The scientists nod in understanding and use the BIG font for your copy so it'll hurt more.

They've been there.

And just? Shitty people getting what they wanted only to have it blow up in their faces?? I see all these angst "but what if they were declared ANIMALS" prompts and I just?? Are we talking PARROT or goldfish!? One has the average intelligence of about a human 4yr old and the other is a FISH! People get RIGHTFULLY furious when you treat INTELLIGENT animals badly.

And would, in fact, adapt pretty easy to discovering one of said animal has become HUMAN lvl intelligent. It's easy to grasp the idea of human intelligence lvl dolphin or monkeys. Maybe there was some mutated strain, maybe in uetro tampering. Who knows. But if I tried to sell you a human intelligent housefly? Gold fish? Lizard?

You wouldn't believe me. There is some kind of trick at play.

So if GHOSTS are seen as animals? Everyone nods and then later? Someone comes in TV and very excitedly informs you "we found INTELLIGENT LIFE amongst the ghosts!" You'd believe it. Probably be really excited by your conversation starter for the day. Get a taco and move on with your life.

But? Having to willing sit for a barrage of testing? Is going to suuuuuuck so bad. Poor Danny. SATs all over again. For HOURS. At multiple facilities, just to be CERTAIN it's not a one off. All because he not certain he can insure good behavior from other ghosts and This Is IMPORTANT. He ALSO can't be certain it's even SAFE.

Might be a trap.

But if he has to do it again and again and again? Mexico to Bavaria to China to the Maldives? If this is what it takes for the scientific community to bitchslap the GIW into ORBIT before the UN? Hand him that pencil.

He has no where more important to be.

@hdgnj @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation @ailithnight @the-witchhunter

[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Prompt #6

Phantom is sitting at the Batcomputer, kicking his legs back and forth. With the seat last set for Batman's height, his feet barely skim the ground. He's propped his head up with one hand, examining something he is holding between his thumb and forefinger in the other.

He is very casual for someone who has never been told the location of the Batcave.

"Phantom," Batman grunts. Phantom doesn't glance his way, likely having heard the Batmobile pulling in.

"Hi Bruce," he says. "I had a nightmare last night."

It's important to note that The Justice League does not know Phantom's true age, although there are several theories:

Theory One: he is a ghost dating back to several thousand BCE. The proof of this is sparse but present, through written record of beings with white hair and green eyes and uncanny likenesses found in artifacts proven to be authentic. Could these truly be Phantom? Yes. However, there is

Theory Two: he is a teenager, as his visual presence suggests. This could be true even if his existence is thousands of years old, as his mentality might not have advanced beyond that of a child aged fourteen to sixteen when they died. This is supported by his general behavior and advanced knowledge of memes. The few times he and Red Robin have interacted, Bruce did not understand a word of it without extensive googling. But worse, of course, there is

Theory Three: Phantom is the age of his first recorded appearance in modern times, only a few years ago. Phantom's recorded appearances in the past were sparse compared to his consistent existence in this century, which could hint at a timestream accident similar to Bruce's own, if they are real. And ultimately, this would not be the first time a two year old presented as a teenager in form.

Two out of three options propose Phantom is a child, and so Batman's tone is gentle when he says,

"Did you?"

"Yeah," Phantom says, words almost a sigh. Whatever is in his hand catches in the lamp light, shining green.

It's kryptonite. Phantom is holding a shard of kryptonite.

"Sorry." Phantom twirls his chair around to face Bruce. He holds the shard out in his palm. "I called you Bruce, didn't I? I know you hadn't told me yet."

"That's okay," Bruce says. He takes the shard calmly, his suit's layered biometrics disguising the fact his heart is racing. He recognizes this chunk from his stores, kept in the secure, deepest, impenetrable section of the cave coded to his DNA alone.

He's been aware Phantom's powers include invisibility and intangibility, but the ghost has been benevolent, honorable, and heroic since introduced and he had allowed his guard to slip. All it would've taken is being tailed one time, and now he must rely on that benevolence.

"And I'm sorry about that," Phantom says, nodding at the belt Batman has tucked the kryptonite inside. It will do nothing to stop Phantom should he decide to pluck it away again, but kept out of sight in a lead-lined pouch still feels safer than out in the open.

"I needed to make a point." Phantom says. The words are threatening but his tone is not.

"Oh?" Bruce asks, wary nonetheless.

"I'm really strong," Phantom says. "I can walk through walls. I can disappear. I can fly. I can blast and freeze stuff. I don't need to breathe. Traditional weapons don't really work on me."

"I can duplicate," a voice says from behind Bruce. He whirls around, batarang in hand, to see another Phantom rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "That duplicate will have all the same powers," the doppelganger says, apologetically. He floats back over to the Phantom sitting on the chair and the two merge.

"I have bad powers too, ones I don't like to use. I can scream at things until they fall apart, even buildings. I can...I can possess people, and make them do things," he admits, unable to look Batman in the eye. "It's not that all ghosts are like this, pretty much all of them aren't, it's just that I'm one of the stronger ones, and I'm only going to get stronger, and the stronger I get, the more powers I might get, and the less weapons even made especially to fight ghosts will work on me."

None of this is phrased as a threat, but rather a confession.

"Why are you telling me this?" Batman asks.

"I had a nightmare," Phantom repeats weakly. He reaches under the computer table and pulls out a purple JanSport backpack, cotton dirty and frayed with use. He unzips the front pocket and pulls out a small plastic baggy. He offers the baggy to Batman, his hand shaking.

Batman takes the baggy, examining the contents. Inside are six tiny little dots. They look like poppy seeds, but held up to the light are a deep purple in color.

"Phantom, what are these?"

"Hemo Prunus," Danny says, eyes stuck on the baggy. He's paler than usual. "Colloquially: blood blossoms. At the time they were grown it was believed they required drops of blood to grow, but a friend of mine who likes plants thinks it's more likely they actually just like a higher quantity of iron in their soil. You know, truths found in witch's tales and stuff like that. I don't know much about their care beyond that but I do know they were grown previously in Salem in the late 1600s, early 1700s during their summer seasons with some amount of success so perhaps you can mimic that environment and go from there. From what I've gathered they're incredibly difficult to grow, but I figure if anyone can do it it's you."

"I'm not exactly the gardening type," Batman says dryly.

Phantom laughs faintly. He looks like he's about to pass out, which should be impossible and is not the correct reaction to gifting someone a rare piece of flora.

"Phantom," Batman says again, slowly. "What are these?"

"They're my kryptonite."

Bruce closes his fist over the bag immediately, taking several steps back to put distance between himself and Phantom. "Are you alright?" he asks sharply.

"I'm fine," Phantom says, waving a hand. "As seeds they just sting a little, like nettles."

That's not the reaction of someone being lightly stung, Bruce thinks. Phantom looks like he needs the chair he's sitting in just to stay upright.

Then the rest of his words click together.

"You're giving me these," Bruce says.

"Yes," Phantom says. "For safekeeping."

"To grow."

Phantom's smile fades. "For safekeeping," he says, looking at Bruce's belt. Where he has stored the kryptonite.

The enormity of what Phantom is entrusting him with hits Bruce like a ton of bricks, and he finally realizes that Phantom is not sick but terrified. He is quietly, deeply, terrified. Bruce also realizes that a reaction like that is not born out of fear of the unknown but is the reaction of someone who has felt the sting of the bee and felt their throat close up. At some point Phantom has felt the blood blossom flower, and the sheer memory of it is enough to make the ghost go almost catatonic with terror.

And he has still handed over the one weapon that can hurt him to the Batman, and told him all he knows on how to make more.

I had a nightmare.

"Is this all of it?" Bruce asks, the question coming out brusquer than intended. Phantom blinks.

"Yes, I'm sorry, that's all I could--yes that's all," he stammers.

Bruce shakes his head. "I mean, does anyone else have access to it? Is anyone else growing this that we should be aware of?"

Phantom can't mask a sudden shudder, his reactions always woefully transparent (pun not intended). "No, that's the last of it. No. No. I don't think," his eyes grow wider, "I don't think so," he whispers, to himself, an attempt at comfort.

Way to go, Bruce, a familiar voice whispers, you just scared the kid harder. Bruce drops the packet on a table beside him and strides forward to put a firm hand on Phantom's shoulder.

"I'll make sure of it," he says. He'll pull Kal in and together they'll make sure, the same way they raided every GiW base across the United States four months prior. Phantom looks up at him the same way he did then, with complete and utter trust.

"Thank you," he says quietly. "But if you do...if you do find any more, promise me you won't destroy it. Promise me you'll keep it, the same way you keep the kryptonite. Please, Bruce."

He's not just asking him to keep it. Another weight finds its place, settling on the Bat's shoulders like the cape he wears. Another contingency for a hero he fears will one day be a dear friend.

"I promise, Phantom."

"Danny," Phantom says, "My name is Danny. A name for a name, right?"

"Danny," Bruce says, heart growing ever heavier. "I promise."

[cannivalisms]

inspired by @ crimeronan & @ ghostzzy's respective codependency polls. cue round 3, ft. dynamics i've encountered in the wild with my own ocs 👍

[aeide-thea]

on principle opposed to describing art i dislike as 'masturbatory' because even though it's an alluringly contemptuous word to sneer it's impossible to reconcile with my pro-masturbation stance

[youneedsomeprompts]

~ OBLIVIOUS PINING ~ PROMPTS about denial of feelings

requested by: anonymous request: how can i resolve very heavy denial of feelings? it doesn’t feel organic to just have a “oh crap, i like them” moment for this specific character

Feel free to use and reblog!

changing their behaviour towards the other person before they realise their own feelings

doing something nice for the other impulsively

growing softer in their attitude towards the other

finding themselves daydreaming about the other

being annoyed by how much the other occupies their thoughts/their daily life

realising certain single traits of the other they like/adore

being in the other's debt, so they can't hate them so much anymore, they 'have to' like them at least a little

getting flustered when the other is nice to them

realising they're feeling much better when they know that the other is happy

enjoying making the other smile

^ and being worried afterwards about these new strange sensations towards the other's happiness

*eye-rolling* "Well, I guess I can do that for you."

feeling bad when they're treating the other shitty

feeling bad when they're ignoring the other

telling themselves that they can be nice without that having to mean they like the other (that's totally normal, right? to give someone a gift and it doesn't mean anything)

A talking to C about B: "Yes, we're getting along better now. But I mean, it's normal, right? To do nice things, even though you weren't on good terms just a week ago. People change. Relationships change. But that doesn't mean we like each other, alright?"

spending hours wondering who the other actually is and what they mean to them

"Nothing has changed." *when in fact, everything has changed*

"It has always been like this." *when in fact, they're losing their mind about not seeing sooner how it has actually been*

"Come on, it can't come as a big surprise to you." *when in fact, it's the biggest surprise to themselves*

[gunstellations]

cute little requests!!