#and each other for comfort

[theskeletoninthegarden]

Sorry about the theater of emotions going on my face from across the room. I'm trying to resolve an argument that I made up between two fictional characters.

[swan2swan]

Whoever conceived and animated this moment, I hope they're doing well and thriving. This is S-rank romance stuff here.

[cronchy-baguette]

When all this is over, will you stay with me? For good?

[cirrocula]

my rendition of the steven panel

[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.

[redeemed-wren]

Thinking about. Stanley Pines. Once summer, not long after Weirdmaggedon. Sitting in his seat, staring at the tv but realising slowly he's not really watching TV, he's listening.

Listening to Soos, taking a tour group around the Shack, his voice confident and happy, eagerly telling tourists all kinds of tall tales. Soos, with his young son strapped to his chest, held close and dear to his heart, always knowing he is loved and wanted by his father.

Listening to Wendy and Melody, laughter turning to deeper conversations in the gift shop as Wendy pours out her latest dating drama and Melody listens sympathetically--not quite a mother, but an older sister figure is all Wendy wants at the moment.

Listening to a distant boom coming from the basement, a cause for some concern that fades quickly as three peals of laughter follow soon after. One deep and familiar, as comforting and close as the sound of a ship's motor and the open sea. One young and high, cracking with adolescent awkwardness. One loud and cackling, a hint of madness never quite leaving it but more settled than it used to be. And Stan figures it's probably time to send someone down to drag Ford, Dipper and McGucket upstairs before they forget what light is and get too nerdy.

Besides it's nearly dinner time, and he's listening to Mabel's steady, unrelenting chatter in the kitchen, punctuated by a few grunts of acknowledgment from Abuelita as they prepare a meal.

And Stan feels a strange, unusual sensation wash over him, something he hasn't felt for over half a lifetime, by a boat on a beach. A sensation of contentment, of security, of peace. And he realises that if he stood up and walked into any one of the rooms in the Shack he would be greeted with smiles and faces lighting up to see him and cheerful cries of his name.

And he looks down at the darned pig sleeping beside his chair and things, with oddly misty eyes, that he spent thirty years trying to find his brother again. And he succeeded--but somehow, he got more than that. He had formed around him, without even realising it, a family.

[noodles-and-tea]

For the twins in time AU, I genuinely wonder what kind of people the young twins grow up into because of Stan’s/Ford’s influence. Especially if it takes years for the portal to get fixed.

(Sorry if it seems like I already sent this question, I don’t know if it got sent the first time I asked)

I haven’t fully fleshed out how Ford grows up in the past but I do have thoughts on Stan presently

[akiiame-blog]

was in the mood to draw some desperate brotherly comfort

[magicicephoenix]

</Gives Moon & Sun plushies of themselves>

Enjoy!

they traded :)

[ryssbelle]

Drew a bunch of Marinettes in a bunch of different artists styles it was a lot of fun!!

Artists who's styles I mimicked: @buggachat @hamsternamedmarinette @ladybeug @sabertoothwalrus and @anna-scribbles all epic artists 🤟😎

[diamondzart]

Two goofy ahh muppets cuddling

[gd-dollopole]

What gets me is that Arthur’s gesture is so delicate.

I know he wasn’t supposed to make any noise, but still. Arthur doesn’t press his hand on Merlin’s mouth, he just lays it there.

You can see that Arthur didn’t push his palm, and he also takes it off in the same gentle way, oh my god.

[frogcabbage]

Pete and Lucius below deck fucking nasty:

[potato-lord-but-not]

human John anyone ????

[emotoangel]

you know sometimes I wake up in a cold sweat remembering the phrase ‘more than just romantic’ and feeling like I’ve been knocked down a hill by the reminder that Dan and Phil are like ,, actually together. it’s not just a weird online shipping two twinks thing they’re actual soulmates, companions through life, 4000 year old tortoises, RANCH, like a piece of furniture, like a normal gay couple ,,, what the fuck

[wolfythewitch]

I commute to class and there's usually this one guard stationed at the entrance to the train station I go through. We are homies. She barely even checks my bag at this point she just taps it with her stick and smiles at me. I think she has my class schedule memorized. One time she asked me for help giving directions to an old Chinese man, and then after I translated a little bit, she waved me away after realizing I was late for class. When I come home late from night classes, she's usually off her post and on her way home and we wave at each other when passing by on the platform