#IDK WHAT YOURE TALKING ABOUT!!!!!

[shepscapades]

this is the most "i like solidango" thing ive ever seen (the bingo)

I DONT KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN!!! I. I. I. I. I.

[buggachat]

Sometimes I think about how Adrien, throughout the series, constantly grapples with his fear of abandonment. Gabriel conditioned him to believe that any love he receives is purely transactional, and that to earn affection he has to prove his utility. Adrien is constantly trying to prove his worth to his father for scraps of affection, and Chat Noir infamously crumbles on-screen any time he feels as though he is replaceable to Ladybug. It's a constant insecurity of his, like everyone will just dump him like a sack of potatoes the moment they find out how useless he is.

Meanwhile, all Marinette wants to is ensure that Adrien is happy. Because she loves him. She doesn't give two shits about how """useful""" he is. She holds him and tells him that she will never abandon him (both as Ladynoir and as Adrienette), and her fantasies are about saving him, not about him being "useful" to her. Throughout their relationship, Adrien is forced to disappoint Marinette constantly for reasons outside of his control (amok commands), and yet Marinette is still there for him.

At Adrien's lowest point, when he is forcibly torn away from everyone who had ever showed him genuine care, locked away in an all-white room and at his most "useless", right after disappointing Marinette and unable to even join the final battle or contribute in any way, she still saves him. She still loves him. Because he doesn't have to prove anything to her. Because he is loved and cherished for who he is, not for what he does, and that love is not conditional. Adrien's "happy ending" at the end of the first arc wasn't about him finally proving how useful he can be, because he never actually cared about being useful — he just saw it as the only means to feel loved and needed. Instead, in the end, he found out that he was loved and needed no matter what.

[adhdandcomics]

whoever needs to hear this: if you got a disability, if you don’t know if you have something, if you ever think “it’s not that bad” if you have a thing about guilt, if you’re ill, Anything: listen. it is okay to throw things away.

you can throw it away. if it sucks and it stresses you the fuck out, if you just “need the right time to fix it” for the past 3 months. or years. if you loved it once upon a time but it makes you feel kinda weird and guilty now. if it’s a jacket youve reaaaally been meaning to mend and then donate. a jar of sauce that “all you have to do” is clean out to recycle but it’s been a week and now there’s a small colony growing in it. slowly shredding to bits fabric scraps you plan to use to fix something. busted picture frame. cracked mug. old shoes. extra box. an entire pack of granola bars that you hate so much but don’t want to waste.

life is already so goddamn difficult for us. i know you still care about recycling and the environment and sustainability. but it’s okay, i promise. sometimes you have to take care of your space. sometimes you have to cut your losses so you can actually have energy to recycle the next thing. get rid of the old shirt before it turns into a tornado pile of guilt under the bed. you’re not a bad person. you can throw this one away.

[beanghostprincess]

Dragon giving Luffy to Garp with the assumption that he's going to take care of him until he's ready to meet his son (because it's dangerous to have a child while he starts a fucking revolution, thank you very much) and then Garp just- Leaving Luffy on a village where he spends 24/7 alone waiting for the pirate he now considers his role model (because he doesn't have anybody else and Shanks is the only father figure around and he's just that nice) to come back from his adventures, and only being taken care of by Makino who has no responsibility over Luffy but still takes care of him because otherwise the kid would probably die from starvation, and lucky for him she's a sweetheart. And then he loses Uta, his only friend (with no explanation at all), to then carry the guilt of Shanks losing an arm for him and suddenly his legacy as a pirate. And then he's sent to another place with other people he doesn't know, because Garp thought "oh, yes, wonderful idea to leave my grandson with this depressed kid and some bandits" and Luffy luckily befriends Ace and Sabo because they're good people. Luckily. And luckily, Dadan is a good mom and loves them. But then Sabo fucking dies because nobody with authority was protecting these kids (I wonder who could've done that). And now Luffy has to carry both guilt, a legacy, and the biggest abandonment issues I've ever seen after losing his best friend and his brother when they were just children.

And I'm not saying Garp has made horrible decisions but he has made horrible decisions and Dragon should hit his own dad with Sabo's metal pipe.

[wontonhasradsocks]

[deadsetobsessions]

This is based off of that one tiktok from @sorruna where it’s the audio from Spider-Man: Into the Spider-verse.

——

Dick Grayson was a sneaky, intelligent little shit.

He was also dumb. These things are not mutually exclusive.

To this day, one of his best kept secrets- one of the many, many that he had now- was something he’d take to his grave.

Or to Jason’s grave, at least.

Dick sat down and began telling the story to ears that would never truly hear it.

——

Batman’s voice rumbled behind him as Dick, in his Robin suit, stood blankly on top of a roof.

“I know you snuck out last night, Robin.”

Dick froze, train of thought about his dinner derailed. Holy busted, Batman! Quick! Play dumb!

“Who’s Robin?” He asked, the years of performing in front of a large crowd coming to save his ass.

Not that dumb!

Batman sent him a dry look, reprimand already poised on his lips. Dick, however, was nothing but a good performer. Nay, a dedicated performer.

Quick! Do something out of character! He shouted at himself, panicking visibly. He stepped backwards, an idea appearing in his head. In his defense, it sounded like an amazing idea at the time. He had no idea it would blow up into a Justice League issue. If he had known… Dick would have lied better, probably. There was no way he was going to let B bench him for weeks!

“Who the fuck are you?!” He yelped. Dick apologized mentally to Alfred and his parents. Batman paused, stunned.

“That’s my question. Who are you?!” Bruce asked, immediately hostile. His son doesn’t curse. Well, not in any normal way anyways. Dick quickly backpedaled by yelling at him with a heavy Vlax dialect, missing his parents terribly as he screamed stranger danger in rudimentary Romany. After this, he was going to have to convince Bruce to get him a language tutor. He refused to forget one of the only ties he had left to his parents.

“Wait, wait- you’re my son.” Bruce replied back, in perfect Romany. He looked more convinced but still skeptical.

“My dad is a circus performer! Not a flying rat!” Dick screeched back. He couldn’t help but feel touched about Bruce seeing him like a son.

“Oy! Keep it down out there, you assholes! Some of us like our sleep, damn!” A random Gothamite screamed out of their window.

“Yo, shut the fuck up! The vigilantes are helping to keep the rent low, motherfucker!” Another Gothamite shouted back.

….

Needless to say, Bruce quickly brought Dick back to the cave- with precautions to make sure he didn’t figure out where the Cave was if Dick was actually someone else.

——

“You would have loved it, Little Wing. B was running around like a headless chicken. The memory loss protocol was actually made because of me, you know.” Dick chuckled, sniffling as he talked to the carved gravestone.

It did not reply.

——

The blood tests came back. Yeppers, Dick sarcastically thought, who woulda thought I’m me?

Reinforcements were called in.

Meaning, Batgirl.

“Watch him while I contact Justice League Dark.”

“You think it’s magic?” Barbara asked.

“Yes. There was no one else near our vicinity that could affect Dick like this. He has no head wounds.”

“Eesh. Okay, go. I’ll watch him.”

Bruce disappeared in his zeta tube, looking harried. So, to everyone that’s not a Bat, he looked absolutely terrifying.

“What did you get yourself into now, Boy Wonder?” Barbara sighed. Dick was careful to keep any signs of recognition out of his face.

“Stop calling me that! Where are my parents?!” He asked back. Barbara coughed and looked uncomfortably away.

That’s right, Babs. I’m pulling out the orphan card. Feel bad. Dick hid his feral grin.

“They’re… uh, busy.” Busy being dead, Barbara thought, immediately wincing at her own thoughts. Apparently, Dick thought the excuse was lame too, and he sent her an incredulous look.

“Would you like refreshments, Master Dick?”

“What?”

Alfred held out some cookies on a platter, giving Babs a quelling look as she tried to reach for his share.

“Oh, wow, these are really good!” Dick said as he shoveled cookies into his mouth. He tried to replicate the reaction he had when he tried these for the first time, and from Alfred’s satisfied look, Dick nailed it.

——

“Robin doesn’t remember who he is.” Batman rumbled as he all but dragged Zatanna and Constantine by the scuff of their jackets towards the zeta tubes.

“Hey, wait-”

“We have no time.” Batman snarled, tossing the two magic users into the zeta. He punched in the destination.

When they got there, he glared at the two magic users until they got into the cave.

“Damn, Bats. Really living up to your name, huh?”

“Not bad,” Zatanna said as she looked around.

“Robin,” Batman- Bruce- reminded them. He did a quick glance over to check on his kids, and found them satisfactorily uninjured. Though, Barbara was looking worse for wear. Bruce quickly found out why as she stalked to him.

“You deal with him.” She muttered. “I’m going home.”

Bruce blinked and nodded. “Get home safe.”

Zatanna and Constantine followed Batman as he walked towards Robin. It was odd to see the normally laughing child frown.

“It’s you! The kidnapper! Where are my parents?!”

Bruce winced which, for him, was akin to a full body flinch and recoil. No wonder Barbara was so tired.

“Fix it.”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Batsy.” Constantine grumbled.

“Well help, Batman. Though… I’m not sure if he should be doing that.”

Bruce sharply turned his head back to where Dick was. Emphasis on was. Because now, he’s halfway up the giant dinosaur the Robin had insisted they keep.

“Robin, get down from there!”

“Stranger Danger!” Dick hollered back.

Batman- Bruce Wayne- sighed.

“That’s high level magic,” Zatanna hummed. “I can’t feel anything, but I know for sure that he won’t die. Magic like that either dissipates naturally or…”

“Lasts forever,” Constantine finished.

Bruce groaned, shooting off a grappling line and swooping upwards to catch Dick as he fell from the giant dinosaur.

——

“I pretended to get my memories back later,” Dick chuckled. “And pretended to forget the whole thing. Bruce was so relieved that I stopped knocking things over and trying to do cartwheels in high places that he totally forgot I snuck out.”

Dick patted the headstone.

“But between you and me? I’m pretty sure Alfred knew. I think B pissed him off that week.”

[skelemoonz]

Dinobot and two goofs

Rattap and Ransack are related, something something their type runs in the family

[tunastime]

The Little Things

happy birthday @shepscapades!! you've known about this fic for a little bit, but we talked about how long DBHC Etho's hair had gotten and I really couldn't help myself LOL. I hope you have a great birthday <333

Behind his shoulder, Etho twists a particularly long strand of hair around his finger as they unpack, fidgeting in a way that almost seems anxious. He drags his hand back after a moment, flattening his hair against his neck, combing through absently as he sorts through their collected items and puts them in proper order. Bdubs watches him fidget for a long moment. The thoughts in his head bounce around like loose marbles. Or, Bdubs braids Etho's hair. Etho lets him.

(1506 words)

“Etho.”

Bdubs is staring at the back of Etho’s neck as they walk a short single file through the dark oak trees. Etho holds a steady grip on the hilt of the sword at his hip, head shifting back and forth as they walk together, like they were tethered by an invisible string. He can see the faint glow of his LED in the dappled, midday light. Etho makes a small, confirming sound, but doesn’t look behind him.

“Your hair’s gotten long.”

“Mhh,” Etho hums again—some approximation of pushing out air. He reaches back, combing through the near neck-length hair. “I’m letting it get long. Thought it might be a nice change.”

“‘S it bothering you?” Bdubs asks. Etho shakes his head, glancing back to look at him.

“Keeps getting in my eyes, but otherwise I was just too lazy to cut it.”

Bdubs snorts. 

“Typical.”

Etho shoots him a look, but his mouth is curved into a smile—one where he’s trying to stifle it, so his teeth aren’t showing, but he really wants to grin. All visible too since his mask is tucked under his chin. The motion pulls at the off-white scar down his face. 

“So mean,” he scoffs. “After everything I do for you, Bdubs!”

“Yeah, right,” Bdubs says, thumping his shoulder with the back of his hand. “And you’re bein’ dramatic.”

Etho sticks his tongue out at him, but doesn’t argue any further. Bdubs almost socks him again for that, but Etho giggles enough to get him to start laughing, and by the time he’s even considered it again, their base has come into view. Well—what some would call a stack of deepslate that looked like fort walls. Kind of. It was something at least, even if it wasn’t all that pretty. He can see the peek of Tango’s head over the wall, just a smudge of gold against the backdrop. He must be moving their chests around to keep building, because there’s no way their walls were as short as Tango. 

They both pick their way toward the base just as Tango’s head disappears. By the time their cajoling and banter is within earshot, Tango’s standing outside the front of their base, eyebrows raised.

“You two sure make a lot of noise,” he complains, folding his arms. “I swear I could hear you from across the river.”

Bdubs snorts.

“Blame Etho for that one,” he grumbles, pushing past the two of them. He hears Tango snort as he starts giggling, and Etho makes a particularly pathetic sound in retaliation.

“Bdubs started it,” he complains, dragging himself after Bdubs and into the base proper. Tango twists around to follow them both, trailing after as Bdubs lingers near the doorway. 

“Did you two at least bring back somethin’ to eat?”

“You bet your buns we did,” Bdubs snorts. He drops to sit beside his bag, fiddling until the clasps come undone. There, he reaches in, and hands Tango a chunk of entirely unprocessed redstone. When Tango twists it this way and that, it catches the light in a surprisingly interesting way. He watches Tango’s face scrunch for a moment, LED spinning a light blue ring as he thinks over the stone in his hands. Luckily he hasn’t noticed that there are a few prominent sets of teeth marks in the bottom half. 

Can’t blame a guy for getting hungry. 

Tango nods, seemingly satisfied.

Behind his shoulder, Etho twists a particularly long strand of hair around his finger as they unpack, fidgeting in a way that almost seems anxious. He drags his hand back after a moment, flattening his hair against his neck, combing through absently as he sorts through their collected items and puts them in proper order.

Bdubs watches him fidget for a long moment. The thoughts in his head bounce around like loose marbles.

Tango moves around them both and back to the place where he was moving cots and chests around. He backs himself against a particularly large double chest and shoves it sideways across the grass. Etho continues to quietly stack items into a chest. With his bag now empty, Bdubs picks himself up, and scoops up his bag. At the front door, he slings his newly sharpened axe over his shoulder.

Might as well get some wood while the day was still light.

At the fire, sleep tugging at the edge of his consciousness, Bdubs casts a tired glance over to Etho. He’s shrugged free from his coat, now draped over his knees as he sits at Bdubs’ left, leaning almost into his space. From this angle, Bdubs can see how Etho’s hair lies flat over the back of his neck, curls over the side of his face in frizzy strands. He reaches up almost absently to comb his fingers through it. Etho makes a small, startled noise. He raises his shoulders, but he’s not able to resist the tiny, pleased expression that slides onto his face as Bdubs keeps his hand on the back of his skull. He may not like the teasing, but the idea of Bdubs petting through his hair certainly seems to make him happy.

Which is why Bdubs sighs through his nose and draws his hand away.

“Etho,” Bdubs says, exasperation slipping into his tone unbidden. “C’mere and let me help you.”

“It’s fine,” Etho tries, more in discomfort than annoyance.

“Etho—” Bdubs argues. He pats the ground in front of him, legs splayed. Etho looks him up and down for a long moment, LED spinning, calculating. 

“What’re you gonna do?” he asks.

“‘M not gonna cut it,” Bdubs sighs. “Just trust me, alright?”

Etho makes a noise halfway between a groan and a hum. He finally sinks to the ground beside Bdubs’ knee. Twisting around to put him between his legs, Bdubs shuffles forward on the grass. Between Etho and the fire in front of him, the air around them is warm, filled with the slight mechanical hum from Etho in front of him, the snap of the fire. Bdubs leans forward for a moment, resting his forehead against the nape of Etho’s neck. Etho laughs, one hand coming back to squeeze his knee.

“What,” he teases. “Was this your ulterior motive?”

“No,” Bdubs startles, peeling himself away. “No it wasn’t. This was just a nice moment.”

Etho giggles, squeezing his knee again. He draws his hand down Bdubs’ shin and to his ankle, where he keeps it there.

Carefully, Bdubs combs his fingers through Etho’s hair. It’s not any different than usual, besides the length. He keeps relatively good care of it, the ends are fine, it’s short enough not to reliably knot. Sifting his fingers through takes little effort on Bdubs’ part as he easily separates three sections out, twisting the hair between his fingers as he braids. Etho slumps forward a bit, shoulders rounding out, the base of his spine and lower ribs pressed into Bdubs’ space.

“I learned how to do this a long time ago,” Bdubs says absently as he works. He watches Etho’s LED spin again, and takes that as a sign that he’s still paying attention. “Had’ta use ropes since I didn’t know anyone with hair long enough to actually practice on. It’s easy to do a simple one when you’ve got the hang’ve it, though.”

“Are you expecting me to not ask you for help when I need it?” Etho says, amusement slipping into his tone. Bdubs pokes the back of his neck.

“I’m just sayin’,” he grumbles. “You don’t have’ta learn, I’m just tellin’ a story. Jeez, Etho.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Etho placates, still giggling. “Maybe I’ll learn as long as you teach me.”

Bdubs huffs out a laugh.

“Maybe,” he parrots. He curls his hair into the last section of the small, tight braid, hoping that force alone will keep it together just for a bit. As he lets go, Etho’s hand comes back to feel out the braid, smoothing the rest of his hair back behind his ears. With most of it tucked back, only the tufts of hair in the front spill into his eyes. When he turns back to Bdubs, a soft smile tugs at his face. Bdubs reaches on instinct to push his hair back, dragging his hand down his cheek as he pulls away. He pretends not to notice that Etho’s ears have gone slightly blue as he turns away from him.

“You like it?” Bdubs asks, voice coming uncharacteristically soft. Etho nods silently. “Good.”

Bdubs leans forward into Etho’s space, then, tucking himself against the strong curve of his back. He can feel, ever so slightly, the hum of his thirium pump, the heat that he gives off from all the moving equipment inside his chest. There, he lets out a soft sigh. Etho squeezes his ankle.

“You let me know if you need me to do it again, alright?” Bdubs asks. Etho lets out a long breath of air.

“I will,” he says, voice crackling ever so.

Good, Bdubs thinks. He likes the sound of that.

[corvid-ghost]

"Tim has a high kill count" "he's fine with murder" that boy will freak the fuck out if he learned he killed people

Not saying he hasn't but if he realizes blowing up things kills people all hell breaks loose

[bixels]

I'm not getting into The Giving Tree discourse...

[chipper-smol]

([Can something so broken be capable of repair?])

SOFT TENDER THING ALERT!!

massive heckin kudos to @payasita for rendering these lines n making them so pretty (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

full image below the readmore (they nekkid)

[nenoname]

stan twins the canon cptsd brothers i will always think about all your unaddressed issues that would make perfect plot fuel for your spinoff

and also the whole 'stan getting that poem by bill via a website which contrasts with bill getting one from the axolotl via a website' foreshadowing thing

like idk i would love something like su future but like more optimistic, aka not an accumulated breakdown that has to be mostly resolved off screen at the end :/// but something thats being kinda addressed throughout? (although would love to see one of them turn into a monster thats always fun lol)

stan having severe issues from his dad and those years of being homeless that we keep on getting more info on but never really getting confronted on (the drifter catalogue and tijuana incident...), him being completely alone for like twenty years when running the shack before soos comes along to the point that 1998 is noted as his low point, and him not really learning about bill+what he did to ford until ages after he killed him if he ever did get the full context

while i think amnesia and everyone seeing him as a hero actually helped with stan's 'i'm a worse version of my brother' thing its still a lingering issue too and we now got him being insecure over his own hands

ford being immediately thrown from 'being tortured by bill' to 'being stuck in the multiverse and being chased by bounty hunters constantly', him fully expecting himself to die when destroying bill, and him only now being safe for the first time in 30 years ....relatively safe, he's still in constant danger because of course he is

idk in the end the series wants them to be happy and they deserve it, its why i wasn't too worried about the book being like 'ooh bill is back!! and the book is haunting ford' thing cos i knew they'll be ok

[sunhowler-art]

a very frenrey halloween

[shepscapades]

GLAD EVERYONE ENJOYED THE ANDROID INFO UPDATE ABOUT INTERFACING DFGJNDGKGNMXGHNCBNM

[zwoftt]

okay but what if the silken squall is at the council meeting and forces dorian to face his responsibilities, the self he hated and was purposely trying to change/leave behind, having to admit that cyrus is really dead(TO HIS FUCKING PARENTS) and his family issues that he had been running away from ??? what if bro.

[kittyregime]

If you are a pro-Palestinian feminist of any kind, liberal or radical, and you are ignoring or somehow rationalizing/downplaying Hamas raping women and spitting on their bodies, please walk backwards off of a cliff.

Rape isn't resistance, fuck off. You don't care about "human rights". You want vengeance and bloodlust.