#lot of headcanons in this one

[unfriendlyamazon]

Find Your Flag (gen fanfic)

i was thinking of saving this but since @kaijous posted their bi pride yugi i'll post my bi pride tristan. a little exchange we did to celebrate our favorite bisexuals in this fandom

characters: Tristan Taylor, Yugi Muto, Joey Wheeler, Anzu Mazaki, Miho Nosaka, Duke Devlin & Seto Kaiba (mentions)

rating: G

summary:

As Domino City ramps up for its first pride event, Tristan can't help but feel a little anxiety.

Tristan took the side roads to Kame Game, his motorcycle puttering along with the increased traffic. Most of the main roads in Domino’s downtown were already cornered off, pushing motorists to wind through the streets. He caught glimpses of the main thoroughfare as it was being set up. Floats were being readied, and workers in bright t-shirts directed pedestrians off the main road. Music blared from all over, and the parade would end at the entrance gates to Kaibaland, which had free entry all day. Domino City’s first pride event was shaping up to be one for the history books.

And of course the crew was going wild. Duke’s game shop was along the parade route, and they’d secured a float, meaning they’d been traipsing around in a full ball gown for a week to get ready. Anzu and Miho had spent the morning at Kaibaland, dressed in oranges and pinks with flowers in their hair. They’d meet the boys when the parade was ready to start, which was why Tristan was heading over to Yugi’s with still a few hours to go. Joey’d slept over at Yugi’s to avoid the disrupted bus schedule, and he’d already gotten plenty of pics of them preparing their outfits. Tristan lagged behind, a little less enthusiastic than his friends. He was happy the parade was happening, and the whole thing had those Kaiba flourishes that really made it pop, but the truth was, he didn’t know if he was ready to take it to the streets. He’d only started admitting he was bisexual last year. Now the whole city was waiting for him to come out of the closet, fishnet shirt and bisexual pasties included.

He parked the bike and waved to Grandpa as he started up the steps to the upstairs apartment. Pride flags fluttered outside of Kame Game, and someone had draped a trans flag over a cardboard standee of Yugi. Some kids were taking pictures with it. He didn’t bother to knock as he pushed open the door to the comfy living space. Music carried from Yugi’s room, where Yugi and Joey were laughing on his bed. Both sat up as Tristan came in.

“The big man’s here!” Joey shouted. “I thought you were gonna bail.”

Tristan gave his best smile. “On Domino’s first pride? It’s a historic occasion.”

“Kaiba really went all out,” Yugi said, jumping from the bed. “He’s grand marshalling the whole thing.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Tristan said.

“Did you see the photos he posted?” Joey nudged his buddy. “He’s kinda hot as a girl.”

Tristan rolled his eyes and shoved him down, earning another peal of laughter. Yugi grabbed a handful of shirts from a discarded pile and held them up to Tristan.

“I went thrifting with Anzu,” he said. “You said you didn’t know what to wear.”

Tristan’s eyes swam with the options in front of him. Yugi definitely had his style, and he’d gone with a mesh shirt pleather pants for himself, crisscrossed with strips of fabric in dark colors of the bisexual flag. He’d done his hair at full spikiness, with enough gel to probably hurt someone if they got too close. A spiked collar and several chains hung down from his throat. The clothes he’d picked out, he’d at least gone more subtle on. Strips of fabric in dark pinks and blues on clothes where he’d definitely guessed the size.

“Thanks,” Tristan said, “but I think I’m just gonna wear this.”

He felt them both sizing up his current look. He’d stripped the motorcycle jacket off, and he’d gone with a simple blue button up and his usual jeans. The two glanced at each other, and Joey shrugged.

“Whatever works, big man.” He slapped a hand on Tristan’s back. “Show me what you got for me.”

Yugi brightened and untangled more outfits. Tristan sat back as they chattered together, holding up clothes, laughing at the stupid stuff they said. It was easy to let them caught up in whatever they were doing, so he could focus on breathing. He wished this whole thing wasn’t giving him anxiety. He wanted to join in with his friends, laugh and share and feel pride, but with every news camera and Instagram post he felt his fear rising. It wasn’t like his parents would see him front and center. It wasn’t like his buddies at the garage would just know. But they might. For so long Tristan had wrapped himself in the blanket of I have gay friends, and that shield was slowly disappearing. Now he’d be in the crowd, with the world watching.

No pressure.

He startled as Joey dropped down onto the bed beside him. Yugi was in the bathroom, applying his makeup, but it was as private a moment as the two were gonna get that day.

“You okay?” Joey asked.

Tristan grinned at him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He tilted his head, but didn’t say anything. After a few beats, he jumped up again, grabbing a tin from Yugi’s bedside and shoving it at Tristan.

“Gramps dug these out,” he said. “Vintage pride buttons.”

Tristan glanced at him as opened the tin. Buttons of varying size were collected among other trinkets. They came in all sorts of colors, bearing slogans like CURE AIDS NOW and GAY POWER. Lesbian and gay and liberation mixed together. Joey reached in, snagging a button and holding it out to Tristan.

“I know you’re not the flashiest guy,” he said, “but I thought you’d wanna wear that one.”

Tristan turned it over in his hands. The metal had tarnished on the back, and it was clearly homemade. The front was black, with a pink and blue triangle intersecting each other. The wording was simple: BISEXUAL PRIDE!

“If you want,” Joey said. “No pressure.”

Tristan wondered briefly where the elder Muto had picked these up, if it’d been a passing fancy, or an intentional collection. Maybe he’d felt the same way Tristan did holding it. Someone had made this, crafted it, shared it with the world, in a time where wearing a button like this was the bravest thing you could do. He closed his fist around it and smiled up at Joey.

“Thanks,” he said.

A knock against the bathroom door made them both look up. Yugi waved his phone at them.

“Anzu just texted,” he said. “She and Miho are heading this way.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll put on some clothes,” Joey groaned.

Yugi helped him worm into a top that showed off his top surgery scars, and he’d switched out the laces of sneakers with rainbow themed ones. He was digging through Yugi’s body glitter collection as Tristan opened his palm to look at the button again. Anzu and Miho’s voices carried from the doorway, and he smiled, lifting the button to his chest and pinning it into his shirt.

“Are we ready?” Anzu called, hands on hips, bossy as always.

Yugi bounded towards her, and Joey glanced at Tristan as he got to his feet.

“Yeah,” Tristan said. “I’m ready.”

Joey grinned at him, and together they all headed out onto the street, hand in hand, ready to face the world.

[mountainshroom]

can you guess who’s in my top 3 best female characters of all time

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

Suddenly, bell bottoms aren't so bad

Bonus sketch, because I had to vv

"Stop checking out my assistant, Stanley."

[starry-bi-sky]

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[bats-and-the-birds]

I am thinking about the batkids and their rooms at the manor.

When Dick was first brought to the manor, Alfred put wooden letters that spelled out his name on the outside of the door to his room. He wanted the boy to feel like he belonged, and denoting the room as his seemed like the best way. At first, they spelled out "Richard", and were painted in red, green, and yellow -- the colors that his parents had worn for their circus act, that didn't have any other meaning yet. Dick pried them off the door and threw them away. He didn't want to accept that this was permanent yet. There were new letters on the door a few days later, blue this time, and spelling out "Dick" instead. Those letters got pried off much the same and shoved in a drawer, and they didn't get put back until a year later. He was too short to put them in the same place, so they ended up crooked, and Alfred found it too endearing to fix.

When he left the manor years later, he considered ripping the letters off the door and throwing them in the foyer on his way out. But he left them, and there they remained, crooked as ever.

Jason got his own letters when it became clear he wasn't going anywhere. He helped Alfred put them up on his bedroom door, standing on a step stool to make sure they got in the right place. His were evenly spaced and neatly aligned, and he refused to tell anyone that he cried over them that night. He'd spent months wondering if he'd ever live up to his predecessor, not just as Robin, but in the family as well. And now he had his own letters, just like Dick's, and they weren't going anywhere.

And they didn't. Even after he died. Bruce and Alfred both considered taking the name down to make walking past that empty room less painful, but in the end, they didn't dare touch the letters, just like they didn't touch anything else in the room. Years later, Jason would sneak into the manor through his old bedroom window and find his school uniforms still hanging in the closet, his textbooks on his desk, an open novel on his nightstand, and, of course, the letters still on the door, more of an epitaph than the one on his actual tombstone.

Tim fought for his name on a bedroom door. It took a while, but he trained, and he learned, and he forced himself into the role that he knew he could fill. Part of him thought that no matter how good and useful he made himself as Robin, he'd never really fill the role that the two before him did. He thought there might not be room for him after Jason's death, but he did it. He was older than the other two when Alfred finally put the letters up on his door, but he did it.

Later, when he left in search of Bruce, he didn't think for a second of taking his name down off his door. He'd earned it.

Damian's name got put up practically as soon as he got to the manor. He didn't think much of having his name on a door. If anything, it irked him a bit, being lumped in with the others, but it would have annoyed him more if he didn't get his own name. For a while, his name on the door, marking it as his from the hallway, was the only reason you could tell it wasn't the guest room that it had previously been. He had no photographs, had arrived with no personal affects.

That changed, eventually. As he gained friends, he also gained photos of them. He put up sketches and watercolor paintings of his animals. A dog bed got put on the floor for Titus. But the letters had been there from the beginning, and he grew to appreciate them eventually. His room, with the name on the door, was safe, and he liked it there.

Cass's letters showed up without much fanfare. They were simply there when she exited her room one day. "Cassandra" in black wooden letters that matched all of her new siblings'. She ran her fingers over them with reverence. She'd never been allowed to leave a mark before. Her life was predicated on being a shadow, but there was her name, in big letters, somewhere where other people could see it.

Steph had a room. She didn't want to admit it, but when she crashed at the manor, it was always in the same room. Her name was put up, and she took it down, and it was put up again, and she took it down again until it became something of a game between her and Alfred. If Steph was staying at the manor and Alfred didn't find a wooden S in a random cupboard, then have to search the house for the rest of her name, then he knew she was in a bad mood, and he usually made her favorite cookies and left them outside of the door with her name still firmly in place.

Duke's letters were waiting for him when he moved in. His name in bright yellow letters that matched his suit already in place. Of course it was, it's tradition at this point, and he's part of the family now. He had bounced around for a while now, and the letters on his door made him feel...calmer. It was a sense of permanence, and one he could learn to enjoy.

Barbara didn't need a room. She had her own room, in her own house, but Alfred still offered to mark out a space for her. She declined. When she did stay over, it was either in the cave or Dick's room, she didn't need her own. Still, that didn't mean her mark wasn't left somewhere. There was a study downstairs with a desk that she sometimes did her homework on as a child if she was staying over for the night. Now, the desk held a computer that was wired into the Batcomputer's network, a photo of her and her father, and, of course, tiny wooden letters affixed to the side that spelled out 'Barbara'.

[ribbittrobbit]

these kids are incredibly stressed out

[artkaninchenbau]

People keep on asking for more Baby Robin and Papadile so here is more Baby Robin and Papadile. Now never ask anything from me ever again

[aroaceleovaldez]

Nico referring to his mom as "Mama" implies he most likely at least used to refer to Hades as "Papa" and i 100% headcanon he still does but mostly in the manner of him having the entire Underworld wrapped around his finger for being the baby of the family

[meamiiikiii]

silly comic based on a time i struggled to read live on stream :thumbsup:

context clip compilation below ASDASDFASA

(cw for brief mention of hospitals/strokes)

[beaulesbian]

more one piece (mostly zolu) + text posts [2/?]

[turtleblogatlast]

I love Raph and haven’t said that enough so to be more specific I love that Raph is a soft boy who loves bear plushies, a gross boy who eats an assortment of things that are definitely better left alone, a smart boy who is more than capable of taking down villains through planning and fortitude alike, a strong boy who is dedicated to training his muscles and fighting prowess, a teenage boy who loves his brothers but is more than happy to tease and roughhouse with them, an angry boy who sometimes lets his anger take a hold of him to cover the fear, a gentle boy who is generous with hugs and affirmations to those he loves, a capable boy who takes on more than should ever be expected of a teenager, a good boy who just wants to be a hero and slowly comes to realize the cost of that duty, a good boy who has no reservations about putting himself in the way of harm coming to his family, a good boy who’s a great brother and son and person and deserves only the best the world has to offer.

[cable-salamder]

Pro gamer move: transfem Pixal saved me from artblock (this is basically me drawing my own interpretation of Pixal from this post’s tags)

[threi]

[thesummerestsolstice]

Elvish art genre that definitely exists in Middle-Earth: the captivity of Elrond and Elros (mostly just Elrond, especially after Elros dies)

The paintings– done mostly, but not always, by Sindarin and anti-Feanorian Noldor artists– are usually studies in contrast– Elrond as the bright, innocent child dressed in white; often portrayed as a small, frightened elfling, frozen at the moment he was taken from Sirion. Sometimes he is shown bravely resisting the cruelty of the Feanorians, other times he mourns for Sirion, or bows and prays to the gods for deliverance. Sometimes, he's given wings, both to stress his connection with Luthien and Elwing and to make him look more angelic and pure in comparison to the fallen Feanorians.

Maedhros and Maglor are the dark monsters the oath made them, with teeth, and claws, and harsh armor. Some of the more daring artists just portray Maedhros as an actual orc. While few of the paintings actually show the Feanorians' crimes, they're often portrayed with blood on their hands or swords, or simply surrounded by fire and destruction. They often demand, or threaten in the pictures, towering over Elrond and casting long shadows on him.

There's a few different sub-genres of these paintings. The ones that explicitly compare Elrond's situation to Luthien's kidnapping by Celegorm. The ones that feature a grateful Elrond being saved from the horrible Feanorians by whoever the artist is looking to valorize– Gil-Galad, Galadriel, Oropher, Eonwe, etc. The ones that show Elrond, locked in a dark cell, staring longingly out at Gil-Estel rising in the night sky. Some of the strangest are the ones that draw connections between the Silmarils being kept in Morgoth's crown and the twins– often with Maedhros playing the role of Morgoth.

Elrond hates almost all of these paintings. He feels like they take away his ability to define his past the way he wants to– to tell his own story. Most of them are grossly inaccurate, but most people don't know that, and dredging up all those really painful memories to try and correct people's assumption is hard. Sometimes, even when he does, people won't listen. Some of the paintings also seem... weirdly gleeful about the idea that Elrond suffered because of the Feanorians? Like they're trying to martyr him even though he's alive, and doesn't want to be martyred. It all makes him really, really uncomfortable.

There is one exception. It's not a very traditional example of captivity paintings. Elrond is at the center of the frame, shown not as a small child but as a young adult. Maglor and Maedhros are mostly unseen in the background, each with a bloody hand on one of Elrond's shoulders. Unlike the other paintings, instead of looking off into the distance or staring demurely at the ground, Elrond is looking straight out at the viewer His expression is hard to place. Anger? Acceptance? Defiance? Pity? Accusation? It's a very odd picture that unsettles almost everyone that look at it.

Elrond insists on hanging it in Rivendell.

[starry-bi-sky]

DPXDC CFAU Headcanon: Ghostspeak Edition

Ghosts in the Infinite Realms who saw Jason and Danny together called them "luzdra", a term in ghost speak that directly translates into the words "shared soul". It's literal definition is; "two ghosts with a bond so deep that it was as if they had split their souls in half and given one to the other", but in general it just means two ghosts with a profound, indescribable bond.

Luzdrus is the singular form of the word, and refers to only one ghost in the bond. While "luzdra" is plural and either refers to both of them together, or the relationship as a whole. It depends on the context of the conversation and who they're saying it to.

There is no romantic, platonic, or familial connotation behind the word. It just means "someone who shares a deep bond with someone" and can be between anyone.

It also does not mean soulmate, and if you say that you'll be corrected. Soulmates implies that their bond was destined by the universe, luzdra are two people who developed and built that bond themselves. It's a relationship forged between two (or more) people.

Some of Danny's rogues -- like Kitty and Johnny, who might've seen the two together and are possibly luzdra themselves -- still call him 'luzdrus' even after Jason's disappearance from the Zone. Danny doesn't know how to feel about it.

[steddieas-shegoes]

AU where Steve has decent parents. They aren’t great, but they’re not bad. They show up for major things and tell him they love him, but they don’t understand him. They don’t get that he needs more than that.

So Steve’s nanny keeps in contact with him even after she’s let go because “Steve doesn’t need looking after” at the age of 10. She checks in with him all the time.

Ms. Munson is always bringing him a dish from her own dinner with her brother and son, making sure he has someone at the awards days at school, makes sure he has gifts at Christmas that he’ll actually like.

But she never invites him to her home and it doesn’t hit him until his senior year of high school that she’s Eddie Munson’s mom, that they live in the trailer park that he was never allowed to go to, that her brother must be Wayne, who took him fishing once when he got his heart broken by his first girlfriend.

He’s a different person now, but not to Eddie.

As time goes on, and he experiences more trauma than any single person should, and he gets Robin as a platonic soulmate, he realizes that Ms. Munson still shows up. His parents don’t bother much anymore, but she does.

And two days before spring break of ‘86, she sends Eddie to Steve’s house with a care package.

When Steve shuffles through the items, he nearly chokes on his own spit when he finds a bag of pre-rolled joints.

Eddie comes up with excuses, brushes it off as just a friendly gesture for someone his mom cares so much about.

But Steve won’t hear it. He asks him to stay and smoke one with him, take the edge off since he’s been dealing with midterms.

They get high on his back patio, talking and laughing late into the night, so late that Eddie almost worries he’ll have to go to school in his clothes from the day before.

Steve won’t hear it, offers his shower and his “most metal” clothes- his only black jeans and a plain white t-shirt with the sleeves cut off- and says he can sleep there for the couple of hours left before school.

Eddie wakes up to Steve making coffee and toast, using the jam his mom had included in the care package and a smile that made Eddie’s cynical heart flop in his chest.

Eddie didn’t think the next time he saw Steve would be when he was holding a broken bottle to his neck, terrified of everything and everyone, but the moment they had a second alone, Steve hugged him close.

“It’s a shit way to be welcomed into the group officially, but I’m glad you’re not alone.”

Steve and Eddie were inseparable while fighting Vecna, both of them insistent on protecting the kids.

When Steve managed to get Eddie to the motel the Munsons were staying in after El managed to get rid of Vecna, Ms. Munson was standing at the door with tears in her eyes.

“My boys.”

She patched them up, better than any doctor probably would have, giving them small kisses on the head when they winced in pain.

And eventually, she tucked them into one of the beds in the room, ignoring how they hadn’t stopped holding hands for the entire night.

She’d been hesitant to introduce them; Eddie, for all his talk of accepting people for who they are, struggled to accept how much she did for Steve, not understanding why he may need it.

But it seemed like she didn’t need to force anything. They found their way together in the end.