#prompted by someone saying this

[lesbozoid]

“Elphaba has two hands” ok but did you ever stop to think that her girlfriend is insane and would die and freak out if Elphaba even suggested dating anyone other than her (she wouldn’t). And did you also suggest that I’m gonna hit you with hammers.

[wardensantoineandevka]

is that piece of media actually bad, or is it just not following the blueprint you projected onto it? is that work actually not good, or are you just demanding something from it that is absolutely antithetical to its themes, genre, tone, and narrative goal? is that story actually poorly written, or do you just dislike that it is not the specific things you wanted from it that it never set out to be, never was, and never is going to become? is it actually bad, or is it actually well-executed and you just dislike the story it chose to be because it isn't catering to your specific desires and expectations?

[lesbinewren]

truly do not understand people looking at something with dynamic, colorful, beautifully stylized animation and going “okay that’s cool but what if it just looked like real life instead”

[batpham-kills]

Something's... Off about the Fentons and their son's friends.

They seem to have been the last people to see Vladimir Masters, owner of DalvCo, and know of his whereabouts, yet refuse to reveal him or his location. They also seem to be taking full advantage of his absence, taking over his company and profiting from it and living in his castle in Wisconsin.

They always seem to have some kind of excuse as to why he's not around.

"He's on vacation! Oh, where? Um, Antarctica."

"You just missed him, actually. He was here a few minutes ago. Yeah, in this random dirty alley as I was being mugged. We discussed... Alleys."

"Yeah, he lives here. I know his room is super dusty. He just likes it like that."

Although Tim Drake sees the absence of Vlad Masters as an absolute win (Tucker Foley is much less creepy), he still sees that this requires an investigation. After all, a missing CEO is big news, especially when the last people to have seen him seemed to have had major beef with him. Could they have... Murdered him?

-

Or: Vlad's taken a nice little trip to ghost prison. The Batfam think Vlad's disappearance was a result of the Fenton family murdering him.

[ghost-bxrd]

I think we as a fandom need to have more talks about ✨dramatic✨ Jason running his own AO3 blog where he posts increasingly violent and heart wrenching stories about Robin. (The second Robin. Because he’s absolutely self inserting.)

And the Batfam find out about those fic that have a startlingly detailed layout of the batcave and accurate patrol routes that they choose to investigate (by reading the fics, duh) and growing increasingly upset about how the characters are portrayed.

Especially Robin.

[fireflysugarpie]

I think it would be funny if Shang Qinghua and Shen Qingqiu decided to get married, not for tax purposes per se, but for marriage/sex curse immunity. secretly, of course ;)

why would they do this, you may ask? why wouldn't they? excluding aphrodisiacs, there are plenty of curses and/or magical objects just laying around the SVSSS world just waiting for an unsuspecting Peak Lord to trip over them. And since Shen Qingqiu has decided to travel to see all the worldbuilding and cool flora/fauna he missed out on in the original PIDW, he's dragging Shang Qinghua along with him for the ride. Of course, they would need protection against the more serious afflictions they could catch or be caught by, and getting married was the perfectly logical solution!

and if they ended up getting sex-pollened and needed to rail each other anyway? if they both said no-homo after, then it didn't count! and if they had started to sleep in the same bed and woke up in each other's arms, that's because it's cheaper than getting separate rooms! Who cared that Shang Qinghua started to sleep over at Shen Qingqiu's peak when they were both back at the sect? And brought him gifts and food? And that he reciprocated? They were obviously just hanging out as friends.

And friends are supposed to be affectionate and show care towards each other! They're the only transmigrators in this world, so they need to stick together! Watching the other jerk off can be a bonding activity, you know!

And if Shen Qingqiu noticed one day that they stopped saying no-homo? They already know they aren't gay, so it would be redundant to keep saying it. Carding your fingers through your fake (real) husband's hair while he lays in your lap and complains about the merchant's trying to weasel out of a deal with the sect is completely straight behavior!

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 261

“So is no one going to talk about the eldritch space child or…” 

“I mean, do you want to get between a child and Batman? I think the only one who could even get close right now is Superman…” 

“No you’re right, I think- oh my god the eldritch space child is playing with batman’s bat-ears and he’s not doing anything about it what the fuck I thought only Robins could get away with that-” 

[starry-bi-sky]

mmm throwaway conversation between Dan and Danny that popped into my head that I had to write out:

"You spent ten years being a one-man mass extinction event, then went back in time and fought me, and lost." Danny snarls, arms crossed and throat tight. His mouth pulls back to bare dagger-sharp teeth, and his eyes burn with the familiar thrum of ectoplasm heating up behind his eyes. "If I didn't believe you were half of Vlad before, I do now."

His other self -- and really, can he even call him that? He's half of Vlad too. Two halves severed from each other and welded together to make a new whole, -- snaps his head over to him. Wild-eyed and furious, he looks unlike the man Danny fought before, the one unruffled and untouched, unbothered by the world around him. It's familiar, but not like the way a reflection is.

"What's that supposed to mean." The Other hisses, matching Danny's scowl one-for-one with fangs much bigger and sharper than his.

But there's a reason lions fear hyenas. Danny matches the rumble in The Other's chest with one of his own, and shoves his face close to his. "I don't lose."

[thatone-churro]

hang on. there’s no way we’re revitalizing “are [cishet] aro people queer” discourse. it is almost 20-fucking-24. no. say sike right now. you’re all fucking ridiculous. how are we not only not over this, but bringing it up for active discourse again. and acting like the things being said are common discussion and not. blatant aphobia. which is homophobia. it’s queerphobia. did we never fucking learn from the many “they want us to fight amongst ourselves because if we’re divided it’s easier to ruin us” type talks that everyone was making a while ago. or was that a phase too. what happened to “anything not heteronormative is what queer is. anything with romance/sex/gender that’s othered from what society deems the “norm” is what we are. we are a community of outcasts because the greater community doesn’t want us either way.” what the shit.

[comfort-character-central]

Imagine your normally cold/stoic/short-tempered/etc f/o standing up for you. It's clear they have a strong sense of respect for you, and they refuse to tolerate any disrespect or nastiness on your behalf. Their expression may be similar to one you've seen before. Unwavering, bold, maybe even angry. But, there's something different that lies beneath this. A strong urge to protect you, to put everything aside to show how much they dislike others mistreating you. While others may be accustomed to this demeanor, it exemplifies the supportive, loving, and appreciative feelings they hold for you.

[finemealprompt]

DP x DC Prompt #28

Danny has been struggling with Vlad Masters for far too long. He's tired. The man's corrupt but everyone's blinded by that fact. Him being a ghost doesn't help.

So, Danny does the only thing he can think of. He goes to a reporter.

Not any reporter, but Clark Kent. Danny's read his article's. Clark's done numerous exposé's on corrupt people. Specifically on one Lex Luthor. According to Clark, he's as big a fruit loop as Masters is.

He just hopes the man will help him. And that he won't get possessed, either.

[goldengirlgalaxy]

Danny arrives in the DC universe and, for one reason or another, decides to help fight some bad guys. But he doesn't do it as Phantom or Fenton, oh no. He doesn't want either of his identities to get mixed up in all this nonsense and get traced back to him. So what does he do?

Crappy cosplay.

He's in Metropolis and Superman needs a little help? He's showing up in a blue tee with a paper superman symbol visibly tapped on the front. He's wearing blue jeans with red boxers over them. He's wearing a cheap mask of Supe's face that was clearly bought from the dollar store.

He's in Gotham? His cape and cowl is a curtain duck-taped into a barely passable hood with paper for the mask and toilet paper rolls for the ears.

Wonder woman? It's some kind of swim suit, put over his clothes mind you, and he has a wig that is clearly made of a mop.

He's showing up in bootleg merchandise, clothes that are the wrong color, accents that are made of paper and visibly taped on, armor that is made of cardboard and tinfoil, literal undergarments on the outside of his clothes, symbols put backwards or upside-down, costumes that generally look like he put them together in five minutes.

At some point, it becomes some sort of game amongst the Justice League to see who the cosplayer will dress up as next. They have a betting pool to see who's the next one to be cosplayed.

[buddie-buddie]

Buddie + “Who did this?”

“Who did this?” Eddie’s voice is hard and icy in a way that's almost foreign to Buck. Almost, but not entirely. His eyes drop to where Eddie’s lips are pressed into a line, his jaw set, and memories of derailed trains and risky rescues and Abby flash in his mind. 

Buck doesn’t have time to focus too much on that, though, because Eddie's closing the distance between them and taking Buck's chin in his hands. Everything else fades away until there’s nothing but the familiar warmth of Eddie’s gentle touch and the pleasant ache in Buck’s chest, the same one that blooms behind his ribs each time Eddie’s nearby. 

Eddie touches him like he's something sacred, holds him like he's something precious.

“I–” Buck hesitates. It’s not that he wants to hide anything from Eddie, he just… he doesn’t want to worry him, is all.

It’s bad enough he has a fresh bruise blooming across his jaw, blues and purples swimming beneath swollen skin. Swollen skin that’s split in one spot, held together with a butterfly bandage that Hen insisted he actually needed, despite his protests and attempts at bargaining. Of course Eddie’s going to worry when he sees that.

And see that, he did. About three seconds after Buck walked through the door of Eddie’s house– no, not Eddie’s house. Their house. His lease on the loft had officially ended two weeks ago, but he’d been living at the Diaz house for the better part of the last four months, since the morning he woke up sleepy and cranky, grumbling about having to stop by the loft before their shift to get more clothes and Eddie had kissed the spot behind his ear and murmured, “What if you bring them all over?”

Buck had turned over in Eddie’s arms, suddenly wide awake. “E-Eddie.”

“Bring them all,” Eddie had said, bringing a hand up and tracing Buck’s birthmark with gentle, reverent touches. “And all your shoes, too. And the frying pan Bobby got you for Christmas two years ago that you said you want to be buried with. And the books on your coffee table and that plant you keep killing and honestly? Your mattress. It’s better than this one.”

“Eddie,” Buck had breathed, unable to get anything else out past the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat. 

“Buck,” Eddie said simply. Buck would never tire of hearing his name on Eddie’s lips. “Stay.”

And Buck did.

This isn’t just Eddie’s house anymore, it’s their house. And a few minutes ago, when Buck got home, Eddie had come to the front door to greet him, just as he always did when he heard Buck’s key in the lock. He rounded the corner with a warm, easy smile, one that instantly fell the second his eyes landed on Buck. He had stepped forward, closing the distance between them and reaching for Buck’s bruised face with a gentle insistence that was still fond, even when laced in desperation. 

Buck didn’t want to worry him any more than he already had. Plus, really, there’s nothing to worry about. Their last call of the shift had been to an overturned vehicle, and the driver was more than twice the legal limit and just as combative as he was plastered. Buck had tried to stop the guy from crawling out his window– Chim and Hen had wanted to get him on a backboard– but it was no use. The guy was out of the car and stumbling towards Buck with a fury in his eyes, accusing him of being the one to call the police. Buck was halfway through denying that claim when a fist flew at his face, pain exploding from his jaw as he reeled back, stumbling to the side as his hand flew to his face.  

There’s a fire burning in Eddie’s eyes, dark and protective. But more than that, there’s a softness there, a gentleness hidden in the way Eddie’s eyebrows lift just slightly, his eyes wide and searching as he waits Buck out.

“Buck,” Eddie says finally, barely above a whisper. It’s a plea more than anything. 

Six years of knowing Eddie and six months of dating him and Buck still folds like a cheap suit when Eddie looks at him like that. “It's nothing. Just a drunk idiot on our last call.”

Eddie makes a dissatisfied sound under his breath, running his fingers over the bruised skin with a touch so light and careful, it sets Buck’s heart on fire. “And this person was dealt with.” It’s not a question so much as it is a statement, one that speaks to his trust in the rest of the 118. His faith in them to have Buck's back, especially when he can't be the one to do it himself.

Buck nods the best he can with his chin still in Eddie’s hands. “Bobby,” he says, and it’s explanation enough. “And then Athena.” 

Eddie hums, and Buck can tell that while the answer satisfies him, it’s not enough to chase away all of the concern that’s needling at him. Buck brings his hands up, curling his fingers around the warm skin of Eddie’s wrists. The steady beat of Eddie’s pulse beneath his fingertips is instantly grounding. And maybe just as much for Eddie, too, if the small sigh that falls from his lips is any indication. 

“Baby,” Buck says softly. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Eddie’s voice is small when he answers, quiet and resigned in a way that splits Buck open just as much as Eddie’s words do. “I wasn’t there.”

Through no fault of his own. Christopher was running a fever the night before their shift started, and with Pepa out of town and Carla at Morongo again, Eddie had called out to stay home with him. Which he feels guilty about, if the resignation in his voice and the regret in his eyes are anything to go off of.

“You were exactly where you needed to be,” Buck reminds him. 

Eddie lets out a small sigh. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Doesn’t mean I hate it any less, though.”

Buck shrugs. “Never expected you would.” A small smile tugs at his lips, and he ignores the way that even the slight motion sends a fresh wave of pain radiating across his jaw. “Chim says we’re ‘sickeningly codependent.’” 

“Maybe,” Eddie admits, his thumb ghosting over Buck’s bottom lip. His gaze skates from Buck’s eyes to his lips, then back up again. Buck can see the moment Eddie hesitates, can see the flash of trepidation in his eye. 

“You’re not going to hurt me,” Buck assures him. “In fact,” he says, almost conspiratorially. “It could be what heals me.”

Eddie hums, a smile playing on his face. “Better give it a try, then.”

“Guess so.” 

Eddie finally, finally kisses him, and it may not patch Buck’s skin back together or undo the broken blood vessels, but it chases away every last bit of the pain. It ebbs away until there’s nothing but Eddie. Nothing but the feel of Eddie’s fingers in his hair and Eddie’s lips on his, nothing but the way Eddie grins against Buck’s mouth and Buck feels good and right and whole. He feels like an unmoored ship who’s anchor’s just hit the sand, no longer adrift. Steady. Grounded. Safe. 

He feels like he’s home. 

After all, he is. 

prompt game

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [19]

A couple days ago, or maybe it’s been a week now, there had been a horrid storm.

It had been bad enough on the surface but underwater it had caused extremely powerful currents that have dragged a very young Garth away and into the unknown.

He really should have listened to Atlan and stayed put…

Lost and alone, a Little Garth has found himself a lot closer to the surface than usual, the sea currents are still churning pretty bad and he simply can’t navigate his way back to anything remotely familiar.

At this point he’s quite hungry and tired, and he’s found that catching something is somewhat easier nearer to the surface.

However, now something entirely different has caught his attention.

still safely tucked away under the waves. Garth is watching two surface dwellers. judging by size they should be even younger than Garth is, which probably means their caretaker(s) are nearby.

Garth is about to leave them to it and go his own way when he catches on to the erratic kicking movements of the smallest one.

oh, he’s pretty sure surface dwellers aren’t supposed to stay underwater that long, that is if Atlan’s stories are correct.

And even though he’s somewhat terrified, he finds he can’t just… though he probably should…

Well, he ends up saving Danny from drowning.

Jazz and Danny’s parents are busy with a supposed haunted shipwreck and not paying attention.

But by saving Danny Garth found by Maddie and Jack. Who are worried that Garth is there all alone which is like... kinda hypocritical but whatever.

No ghost, but they got a sea boy!

and that quickly has them reassessing their disappointing conclusion that the wreck isn’t haunted, clearly the ghosts are somewhere underwater! After all, the ship was lost at sea and simply washed ashore.

Garth can’t really communicate that great with the Fenton’s. He doesn’t know english, and they do not have telepathy, the only thing he can catch from them is impressions of their emotions, which does make figuring out “yes” and “no” a bit easier.

At first he decides to accept their offer of shelter and food simply because he’s tired and hungry, and they seem like good people even if they are from the surface.

Then Garth makes the mistake of getting attached. All of a sudden he’s put in a eldest brother role. Jazz is determined to teach him english with her kid books and Danny has been attached to him like a barnacle ever since Garth got him out of the water.

And Garth’s needs aren’t even remotely treated as some sort of annoyance, they make note of his need for lots of water and adapt easily.

Everything is extremely overwhelming but thankfully for Garth they don't make the offer to take him with them to Amity Park right away.

They are on a family trip so they stick to the sea for another week and a half or so. After that they ask if he wants to just come with, Danny basically begs him, having an older brother seems like the best thing ever to him.

And Garth ends up taking the offer cause the last week was better than most of his lonely life so far, even if everything is weird and difficult and he can't communicate right.

[jesuistrestriste]

i wanna play with art’s balls soooooooo bad </3 just lick and suck and play with them, ignoring his cock and making him come from only that :((((((

i think his hands would be gripping your shoulders while his thighs squeeze on either side of your frame:( like he’s so sensitive there and you’re drooling all over him and his dick is pulsing against his stomach. i mean god, you’re suckling on the softest parts of him.. and he never knew it could feel this good ..

he wants you to drag your tongue up and lick over the thick vein running up the length of the underside of his cock, but a few more lathing flicks of your tongue over his balls is all he can handle before he’s gasping and arching his back up—

“ohgod—i’m cumming, ‘m cumming, i’m really gonna— ah! cumming! yess, god, please-yes-! right there!”

and then his eyes are rolling back while his hips shudder up against your moving mouth and he squirts over his abdomen, the warmth of his release dribbling down his sides as he sobs and tries his best not to be too loud:(( he didn’t expect to come so hard:(

[snapcracklepop-myjoints]

when i say "any pronouns" it does not mean "you are allowed to default to exclusively using the pronouns that you view as corresponding to my presumed sex or gender presentation" it means all fucking pronouns.