#permanent call.

[stellaelillac]

I finally decided to do this permanent calls so that i don't get so nervous when i try to approach my mutuals for plotting and / or interactions. So you all know what to do !  Give this post a like if i can :

Go into your ims to plot about scenarios ideas that i see our muses can interact ;

Go into your ims to plot about muses dynamics ( not really related to only romantic relationships — platonic / familial bonds & rivals are very much welcome and appreciate as well ! ) ;

Send you unprompted asks and / or ask memes to start interactions and / or when i feel like it ;

I think that’s all for now ! If i remember something more i will add here. And please, keep in mind that i am having giving you the right to do all of this with me as well !

[athinakori]

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 .

Since this seems to be the quickest and easiest way to find out about who would like to interact with my muse and also not worrying about it in the process, i’m doing one this kind of calls too. So by liking this post you are allowing us to tag your muse in random starters, interactions and posts that remind us of them. You are allowing us to send memes and unprompted asks and also giving permission to go into your ims for plotting or just yell about our muses ! And by liking this we are also giving you full permission to do all of this with us as well !

[farshootergotme]

Occasionally I picture Nightwing calling Red Hood "little wing" in front of others and people looking between this huge, 6'0 feet tall man with growing white hair, and then Nightwing, a shorter man who has flawless skin, probably around his 20's, and a fit but not too buff build and they just- don't know what's happening. Is it some kind of inside joke they aren't aware of? Why is Nightwing acting as if he's years older than Red-fucking jacked-Hood?

Nightwing: Little wing, you actually were decent in that fight! I'm impressed.

Hero, who was helping during this fight as well, listening in to the conversation: little...?

Red Hood: Wow, feeling very appreciated right now. Got any other backhanded compliments in there?

Hero: Wait, excuse me-

Nightwing: As a matter of fact-

Red Hood: Nope! I'm outta here. Screw you!

Nightwing: You know you love me!

Red Hood: In your dreams, dickhead!

Nightwing: Hey! We don't use that-

Red Hood: Not listening!

Nightwing: Jeez, kids these days...

Red Hood: I'm an adult and fuck you too!

Nightwing: What? Thought you weren't-

Red Hood: See you never, I'm out.

Hero: ...

Hero: what the actual fuck?

[serial-unaliver]

[bixels]

vague-posting about this here cuz i don't feel comfortable yapping about my su takes on twitter, but after everything that's happened the most interesting thing about the su fandom to me is that so many are 100% there for applying the "everyone can change and deserves a second chance" message to everyone, even the diamonds. except for one ☝️ she doesn't count. cuz she's dead.

[s0fter-sin]

codtwt is going off on brainwashed!soap bc of his new warzone skin and it’s making me think of ghost deliberately getting himself captured by makarov bc he knows he’ll be given to his dog to try and break him; knows he won’t be able to resist the irony, the cruelty of being tortured by the teammate he lost

he doesn’t fight; welcomes the chains around his wrists and ankles, welcomes the hands stripping him of his weapons and gear until he's defenceless

he wouldn't use them anyway

when he stalks into the room, the muzzle, the scars, not even the blank hatred or lack of recognition could make him mistake his eyes

that's his johnny

he doesn't flinch as he digs knives into his skin; would never shy away from his kiss even if it's tinged with rusted steel. doesn't swallow his screams; not when he always loved hearing him, when he spent so long coaxing his voice from the grave

frustration joins the anger in johnny's eyes the longer he goes without giving up information

just jokes; dark and puns alike

just advice when he can't get the jumper cables to spark right

ghost's not trying to escape; not trying to barter his return to the 141

he's right where he wants to be

[rainbow-sunshine-unicorn]

Remember when Kate said she would be content alone

But now look at how happy she is with a husband who NEVER leaves her alone

[starry-bi-sky]

Clone^2 - Separation Strikes

"Why do I have to go?" Damian asks, surly and accent-thick, it sounds more like a demand and a whine at the same time. Sitting on the kitchen table with his arms crossed, in a green t-shirt that Danny bought him at a whim when he was at a thrift shop, and black shorts, he's never looked more like a kid. There's a little backpack leaning against the table leg, Damian begrudgingly picked it out when they went shopping.

His English has grown in leaps and bounds since Danny found him -- er, or more accurately; since Damian was spat out in front of him. -- and very little did they have to use the translator on Danny's phone these days.

Which meant one thing: Damian can start attending school comfortably now. And 'go' was the Amity Smiles Child Care Center. Danny and Jazz went as kids until they were twelve, and Mom and Dad actually managed to convince the center director to let Damian enroll for the summer.

And it was summer; Damian starts today.

"Because," Danny says, trying and failing to hide the smile pulling on his face, his heart warm and soft, and also laughing at Damian's expense; "being cooped up in the house all day isn't good for you, and you're starting school in the Fall. And, in Jazz's words: you need to have interactions with other kids your age for the benefit of your social development. And besides, it's only for the morning."

Damian's nose scrunches up, and his eyes roll so violently that for a moment, Danny thinks about joking that he'll get his eyes stuck like that. He holds his tongue; his little brother already looks like he's five seconds away from committing an act of violence.

"I don't need social interaction." Damian sneers, his cheek in his hand; a neverend pool of pride. "I am--"

"The Blood of the Demon Heir, better than everyone else." Danny cuts off, waving his hand in dismissive circles, his voice mockingly deep. Damian's brown skin darkens in embarrassment, and he scowls at Danny. "I know, bud. But Jazz is right, -- don't tell her I said that, -- you should be around kids your age."

Especially when he starts First Grade in the Fall. Honestly -- Danny was a little nervous to send him to the center. Damian's long since cut the habit of trying to kill or otherwise maim people, his palms ache-burn with gentle reminder, but his tongue was as sharp and as cutting as his sword. He still struggles with trying to quell it when he's upset. Vicious child-weapon that he once was, and will never be again.

Danny knows that it comes from a place of fear and defense, that Damian lashes out because that's what he's been taught. That at the end of the day, he doesn't really mean what he says, and he's learning to express himself better. But the other kids don't know that, and kids can be unforgiving and cruel.

Danny just...

His slow beating heart sighs, melancholy settles behind his lungs.

He doesn't want Damian to be outcasted. He doesn't want him to be alone.

Not like he was.

Damian sneers again, but says nothing, his shoulders crawling up to hide his ears like a turtle receding into his shell. Danny watches him silently, leaning against the kitchen counter with his own arms crossed. The clock hanging on the wall ticks in their ears -- it's almost time to go.

He watches Damian, careful, and so he sees it when his little brother's stone-shell pride and petulance shudders, and cracks. The darkened furrow of Damian's brows weakens, and for a moment, slants back.

Ah, Danny thinks, his own shoulders slumping. Epiphany washes over him, and his sad-heart soothes in warm understanding. So that's what it is.

His head tilts, and his hair spills over his shoulders, messy and fluffy, tickling his neck. Some of his bangs fall into his face. "Hal 'ant easabiatan ya habibi?" He asks, voice low and soft. Just as Damian's English has improved, so has Danny's Arabic. He still stumbles over himself some days, and Damian says his accent is trash, but they can have whole conversations now in Damian's mothertongue.

(Danny was incredibly proud of himself for it.)

Damian's face darkens, his blush spreading across the rest of his face, and he ducks his head down. Grown-out curls, black-brown and springy, falls over his eyes. "La!" He yells, loud and indignant, and not at all convincingly. "La 'asheur bialtawaturi!"

He was nervous. Danny can see it now, in the hunch of his shoulders and the tightness of his face, and faintly, he can feel it too. In the ecto-rich air of the Fentonworks House, it thrums, barely-there, like a hummingbird behind his lungs.

Danny can't stop the little, fond smile that forces itself across his lips and upticks the corner of his mouth. "It's okay to be nervous, little brother." He says, he sounds like Jazz when he says that. He doesn't think she'll mind him borrowing the nickname.

He pushes himself off the counter, and Damian refuses to look at him, hiding behind his hair and in his shoulders. It takes three long strides for him to reach the table, and Danny turns, plants his hands on the ledge, and hoists himself up. Right next to Damian.

Damian leans into him easily when Danny's arm wraps around his shoulders and tucks him close to his heart. He can feel his ear against his ribs. Danny hunches over him, resting his chin on Damian's head. "It's so okay to be nervous, actually. I was nervous, Jazz was nervous." He tells him, scratching the blunt edge of his nails across his scalp. "Everyone gets nervous."

"'Ana last aljumiea." Damian mumbles, as small and feeble as he was the night on the OPS Center balcony, realizing that his mom and the League weren't coming for him. Realizing that he was replaceable.

Danny's half-working heart squeezes; in grief, in rage, and his faucet eyes sting. He breathes in carefully, and presses his nose into Damian's hair in a loving faux-kiss. "You're right, you're not everyone." He says, steady and strong, because if he's not a pillar for his family, who else is he?

He can feel Damian's eyes flick up to him, and Danny smiles into his black-brown curls. Tilts his head to squish his cheek against him instead, hand dropping to thumb below Damian's lashes. "You're Damian Fenton," Because the adoption went through a few weeks ago, and he's still riding that high, "You're my baby brother. O' Artist Extraordinaire, Kickass with a Sword, Vegetarian and Wonderful Co-Ghost Hunter."

Damian tries to stifle a smile, and fails. Score! Triumph gathers in Danny's gut, his smile grows wider. He squeezes Damian tight, and only releases him so he can look him in the eyes. "And if anyone gives you a hard time at school, and I mean anyone--"

Danny has bad memories of the teachers looking the other way when the other kids were bullying him, all because he was a Fenton.

And Danny, bleeding heart, bleeding hands, loves his family more than he will ever love himself, will never let Damian experience the same injustice. Not if he can help it.

His eyes narrow, and the buzzy-film of ectoplasm covers his eyes, making them glow, "--You tell me. And as your awesome great big brother-and-technically-dad-but-only-biologically, I will handle it."

Damian, wonderfully made, full of light, his little brother Damian, giggles weakly at him. A sound that's worth it's weight in gold. The scary eyes dissipate, and Danny matches the sound with a cock-eyed, impish grin, dragging Damian into a soul-crushing, too-tight hug. The kind that only annoying older brothers can give. "Got it?"

That gets a proper, if short, laugh out of Damian. He wriggles in Danny's arms, trying to break free. But Danny does calisthenics, his arms are as big as Damian's head, so it doesn't work. "Understood, now, daeni 'adhhab ya 'akhi!"

Danny laughs, loud and bright, and loosens his hold just a smidge, only so he can adjust his grip and hop off the table with Damian still in arm.

"Never!" He crows, hoisting Damian slightly. One eye flick at the clock, and in one quick move, he secures Damian under one arm like a football, and hooks his foot under the strap of his backpack. Kicking it up, he tosses it into the air and catches it with his free hand, and slings it over his shoulder. "Now, to the car, my boy! Before we're late and Mom and Dad get charged."

Damian groans, childish and dramatic and long, but his face is all squished up with a wide grin and glee. Danny can taste his joy beneath his tongue.

"And, if my little pep talk didn't encourage you," He says, reaching the door to the garage, flipping Damian up onto his hip instead. "If you have a good day today, I'll make you bal mithai when you get back."

Like all kids at the promise of sweets, Damian's eyes widen and glitter. Danny loves seeing Damian be a kid, it's his favorite thing in the world. "I will!"

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Bonus 9: So that's where the turtle came from!

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[nelkcats]

Bookery

Jason spent a couple of months as Red Hood before being able to remember his life as a ghost, and when he did he got so many answers to his questions that it was overwhelming, he also remembered his best friend during that time: The Ghost King, or just Phantom for friends.

Phantom was apparently bored with ruling the Realms and taking care of Amity Park at the same time, he was practically an adult! He wanted to do more than just be an eternal guard!

So, after listening to his complaints over the phone (and hearing his crying over "forgetting to call" for so long), Jason considered it and offered him something: open a bakery together.

After all, despite everything Red Hood did for Crime Alley, that wasn't enough: They needed a livelihood, a place that provided food at a low price and offered some jobs where they were not discriminated against, and having a legal identity never hurt, Jason knew Danny had some contacts (not bat related) for that.

So together they founded "Bookery" a bakery run by Jason & Danny, which was quickly supported by Red Hood, and well, Danny had some Infinite funds to spend to open the place and buy everything they needed.

Everyone was admitted to Bookery (except for Ghostbusters and Batman) so it quickly became neutral ground. Jason had fun cooking and Danny had fun being free, it was just a matter of time before they fell in love or something went wrong.

[arachnits]

hc i came up with a bit ago, i thought itd be cool if once someones in your heart, you take on a physical trait from them!! sora truly is a mosaic of all the people hes ever known

[imkumichan]

Task force 141 x new member!Reader

Embarrassing moment with the 141 members

Summary: as a recruit soldier it was surprising for you to be able to meet the infamous members of 141. You've heard about what they were capable of. Sings of praise, looks of awe, and respect always followed them every time they were in the base, and you certainly would never thought that you would be chosen as a soldier who would go on a mission with them. It would be lying if you said you don't feel slightly intimidated by them. But you will show them why you were the best of the recruit. But why has something embarrassing always happened to you?

Character: Ghost

It's 4 in the morning.

The team, the CIA agent--Kate Laswell, and you who are mostly just listening discussing the location of an informant. You're sitting between the woman and Soap while Gaz, the captain and Ghost sitting beside each other across you.

You should've gotten used to this. You know you do. But these days... with the time you spent training with Soap and Gaz and the lack of sleep making your brain fuzzy and all your muscles scream. It's hard to concentrate. You're so lucky if they didn't notice you're not entirely with them (they did).

So, the moment the captain closed the file and nodded to all the people in the room, you know the meeting had ended. Soap stood up instantly, and walking around the room, Gaz went to another table to grab a laptop, Kate and the Captain still engaged in conversation, ignoring the rest of the team while Ghost still sitting beside the captain, crossed his arms on his chest and closed his eyes. Feeling the need to be useful you stood up to walk toward Gaz, walking several steps and just about passed Ghost when suddenly a body bumped into you.

"Ops, sorry rokkie-"

whatever Soap was planning to say was caught in his throat when his eyes landed on you. Or more like you and Ghost.

You prayed to whatever gods you know you wish you could rewind the time so at least you could avoid Soap just in time or just wish a hole to swallow you up right now.

Whatever then you ended up landing on Ghost's lap.

On Lieutenant fucking Ghost's lap. Sitting sideways on his damn thigh.

You can feel his body stiffened beneath you. every pairs of eyes staring at you do not help either as you know the previously closed eyes before are also staring at you right now. And no. you won't meet anyone's eyes. especially the lieutenant.

A few seconds in with no one moving or reacting, you carefully rise from his lap slowly. Eyes to the front without truly looking at anything, before you walk away toward the door and leave the room.

You refuse to meet anyone's eyes for the rest of the week.

[ri4naaa]

so. vivinos dropped a new comic.

[sergle]

The body positive/plus size art has been great! But you can’t expect people to think there isn’t a discrepancy when you talk about being that, and then posting the pictures you do. You’re allowed to be average, especially now after the reduction. Super skinny people also have a different experience too. It’s just that you talk about being plus sized and people relate to that and the art and then look at pictures of you, and suddenly feel dysmorphic?

Me when I'm Average and Thin

Me when I'm so so skinny 🧡🧡🧡

[majosullivan]

Seeing Annabel increasingly calling Prospero ‘darling’, a term of endearment that we’ve seen Lenore use frequently with her friends is something that is so special to me