#or that nobody really likes this

[wanologic]

sorry danny, sam will never think you’re cool

[yooo-lets-go]

what sort of music does simon listen to- and what are the others’ opinions on it when they inevitably discover it?

They probably wouldn’t share a playlist

Plus Roach:

[dissonantharmony]

permits and such

[cookiedough77]

ok like you know those things where they have ladybug and chat noir dress nice to go "undercover" or something at an event like a fancy part or something-

yeah so ladynoir.... but its dress chat noir and suit ladybug

[pangur-and-grim]

do you remember being too young to ask questions?? like your brain was too newly formed to arrange words in a way that adults would understand, so you couldn't always communicate?

I didn't know what cicadas were as a kid. it bothered me that occasionally a summer day would have this whining nasal background sound, that nobody paid attention to. and it was so LOUD! so I tried asking my mom, and she really struggled for a bit, and then said "oohhh....when you hear insects making sounds, it's just crickets."

BUT I KNEW WHAT CRICKETS WERE! these weren't crickets! so eventually I decided that only I could hear the cicadas, and that made me a little obsessed with them. whenever they started screaming, I would sit down all solemn and contemplate how insane I was for hearing this terrible thing.

then the next year, somebody told me what cicadas were, and I was like oh..........

[inkskinned]

this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.

good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.

sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.

so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.

one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.

[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.

[softenedsunbeams]

why are americans the only people who dont eat rice. why does everyone else eat rice why are we riceless it seems like a very very good food

[boxingcleverrr]

I actually enjoy celebs being here. You only thrive if you don't try.

Madonna is on here. Her posts get like, 60 notes. Is she trying to make it anything more than a feed/extension of her Insta, though? Nah. She's just here. You want to see a Madonna thing? You can find it.

Neil shares thoughts and answers questions when the whim takes him, billions-deep ask box.

Ryan Reynolds will thrive if he's just...that guy reblogging gifsets of himself like "haha you guys are creative".

Not to be cringe on main but you just have to be...not a glossy product of yourself, to maintain some kind of comfortable nook and easy back-and-forth with the userbase. When it works for the people it works for, it's quite enjoyable for everyone involved.

Like we've all known for years Hozier is SOMEWHERE around here, just reblogging pictures of moss. You go, you moss-collecting cryptid man.

[wis-art]

this piece is about being transgender

my ko-fi

[punkitt-is-here]

"people shouldn't call themselves x or y because it makes me uncomfortable" well. Get over yourself lol. Skill issue

[whatagoooodblogname]

so I found this image and uh... I don't know man. Why is he standing like that

[diamond-vic]

I love Brackenpaw in the graphic novel so much oh my god. He’s so polite and he only speaks in normal (by normal, I mean not-all-caps lettering you’d see in day to day) lettering. It’s probably to contrast him with how excitable and loud Cinderpaw is, but since Every Single Other Character always talks in all caps it just makes him seem like such a polite quiet little guy.. I adore him so much

[chloesimaginationthings]

I don't know why, but, I kind of see your game Vanny as a disaster bisexual

VANNY IS THE QUEEN OF DISASTER..

[bet-on-me-13]

The Bat-Adoption Papers are literal Magic Contracts

So! In the Deified Batman AU (the AU where the Belief of the peoples of Gotham accidentally Ascended Batman to minor godhood), the Bat Adoption Papers would be a fun concept.

Batman is a God of The Night, Fear, and Protection. Specifically, the protection of Children, which is one of his biggest motivators. Meaning, it's a big part of his Divine Domain.

So when he, a God of Protection and Children, adopts his own Child? It's kind of a big deal.

His Adoption Papers basically become Magical Contracts that claim Dick to him as his own Son, basically turning Dick into a Demigod by the fact that he is the Son of a God.

Then each time Batman adopts a kid, they become a Demigod as well. Maybe after enough time, and after they forge their own Identities, they could become Minor Gods of their own? Idk, fun idea

Why do I bring this up?

Well, when Danny eventually joins the JLA, and runs into Batman, all he sees in a God of the Night, who takes one look at him, and then pulls out a Magical Binding Contract from his Belt.

Needless to say, he books it.

[bixels]

tarpit site.