#specific headcanon

[itspneu]

okay so a very specific headcanon now

himekawa doesnt have the pinky in her right hand and its bc she offered the finger to jawshua so now theyre really close and have each smth from each other (himekawa has one of jawshua's tooth for an earring and he ate her pinky finger)

[bumblingbabooshka]

Vulcan teen on Vulcan [tiktok] saying "I have just lost track of my father in the grocery store." The camera turns to show the viewers the grocery store in which almost every single older middle-aged man has a bowlcut and long robes. Camera turns back to show the teen's face which is expressionless and yet communicates all it needs to.

[bereft-of-frogs]

There’s that post that’s like ‘everyone should get into a tiny niche fandom at least once’ fully agree, that was really fun -- but I would like to add that everyone should get into a fandom where their opinions run counter to major fanon because it really teaches you about sticking to your guns and trusting your interpretation of the text without having to rely on peer validation

because WHAT are people talking about sometimes

[nouverx]

"I want to eat you" is their love language and you can't change my mind

[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.

[ribbittrobbit]

these kids are incredibly stressed out

[dailyhatsune]

Miku comes out to her dad

memories of miku and mike at the pride parade

[mint-mango]

narumitsu x that one scene in sk8 the infinity

matchablossom x unnecessary feelings

[moldypoff]

Minced Meat Man and his Trash Husband

Wait wait wait- let me explain-

It’s you! (And you with the rest of the crew!)

No I am not missing anybody-

Haha, yeah, sorry, this is just the full image

(Someone please teach me how to not use one canvas for all of my drawings, this took like 27 layers 😭)

[sandwormb]

Joking with my dad in the car led me to the idea that every time Holmes has his trademark “sudden contemplative silences,” he’s actually just having a seizure from chronic lack of sleep and cocaine abuse

[frogfacey]

swinging a bat at a hornets nest and all that but I can't believe some ppl will see a character who, when you look them for more than two seconds, was in the text assigned male at birth and because of this spends the entire narrative being miserable as a man and feels failed by and is accused of failing at the expectations of masculinity and is trapped in a set of unspoken societal rules that he feels he has no hope of escaping and their first thought is "I think he's transmasc!"

[sadkachow]

hey. hey you.

look at that character you’re headcanoning as a trans man.

are you headcanoning him that way because you think it’s interesting, or because he’s a twink and acts kind of feminine?

if you write about him, do you treat him the same way you do your other characters, or is he distinctly separated?

can he handle himself, or is he always the damsel in distress? do you have someone bigger and stronger than him always save him?

do you make him act more childish or confused? is he super innocent and needs someone wiser to guide him?

are you willing to explore what his transness means, or do you just think it makes him hotter?

did you make him trans because you wanted to write him as the bottom? is he trans because you wanted him pregnant without "technically" writing mpreg?

are you willing to headcanon big strong men as trans men? old men? not stereotypically attractive men? men of color? fat men? disabled men?

is his transness a part of him or do you just treat it is a prop?

on the other hand, is he more than just his transness, or is that all there is to him?

do you include other queer and trans people in your work? how do you treat them in your writing?

how do you treat actual trans men? trans men who dont pass? trans men who do? who dont feel comfortable being perceived as feminine? who present in a more feminine way? who identify as more than just a man? who arent just white twinkish silly feminine men? who are kids, meaning you can’t just sexualize them? who are more than just props to be used within a story to push the plot along?

are you willing to listen to trans men who speak out on their issues, or does that seperate them too far from the fantasy you’ve concocted about them?

how do you treat trans men?

[potato-lord-but-not]

someone asked how the boyfriends would be with Faroe after Kayne brings her back, and sorry for being a downer but I’m on the “Arthur doesn’t get Faroe back” hill so I initially wasn’t gonna ponder about it.

And then I started pondering. weeks later. and decided I can indulge just this once because tbh I need more adorable Faroe in my life (we all do). I indulged a little too much tho and decided to make an actual post instead of answering the ask so HERE WE ARE

[zephyrchama]

"You're always coming to wake me up, so tomorrow I'll wake you up. How's that?"

Such was the oath that Belphegor made yesterday evening. He had clung to your arm, pleading at you with expectant purple eyes that were constantly in your peripheral vision until you accepted. He was rarely this sincere. The youngest brother wanted you to rely on him the same way you rely on his older siblings.

That is why Belphegor managed to crawl out of bed on his own in the morning and stumble down the hallway to your room. He walked into a few stray tables and knocked over a decorative vase but managed to arrive relatively unscathed. He leaned against your door while turning the handle, allowing his weight to push it open. The sight of you fast asleep in the dimly lit bedroom made his heart flutter.

Step one was to turn on the lights. Belphegor slapped at the wall at random in the general vicinity of the light switch until he got lucky.

Step two was to gently rouse you. He hovered over the bed, noting you could use more pillows. Still, it looked so comfortable.

"Hey, good morning. It's time to get up." Belphegor yawned halfway through his sentence so it came out garbled, lifting a hand to his face to muffle the yawn out of habit, but you didn't react anyway. In a gentle voice, he called your name. Then said it again. Then once more, with a bit more force and a hint of annoyance. You didn't stir.

Were you messing with him? He dropped down to check, settling next to the bed with his arms and chin over the plush comforter. His head lay at eye level, though your eyes were closed. Your torso rose and fell in time with deep, slow breaths. It was hypnotic for the Avatar of Sloth.

"Hey, come on." This was so unfair. Belphegor clenched a fistful of your blankets and tugged them towards himself. They were warm with your body heat. He nestled his face into them.

"Wake up..."

You woke up, albeit three hours later. Somehow you weren't surprised. Belphegor was half on the floor and half in the bed, with a lazy arm draped around you. He was mumbling about needing to wake up while he snoozed.

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

normal day at the future foundation

[charlietheepicwriter7]

"Grandfather."

Ra's knew who the boy was the moment he'd snuck into the room. He'd allowed the child--more man than child now, but everyone was a child compared to him--moments to steel himself while Ra's refrained from acknowledging his presence. The boy's breath was barely audible but unsteady, and a drop of something fell to the floor.

His grandson was injured. "Danyal," he greeted and finally gazed upon him for the first time in seven years.

Danyal had grown into his father's height, yet stayed lean in regards to his musculature. His black hair had grown out of the League-regulation haircut, held back in a messy braid. He held himself as strong as he could, but kept an arm wrapped around his stomach. His shirt--standard American teenage garb, he dismissed--was spotted with blood and he could see bandages poking out from under the cloth.

With great care, Danyal knelt before the Demon Head and recited the Oath of Loyalty.

Ra's watched.

The boy's tongue, fat with English, spoke the League's variant of Arabic with the grace of a mace to the head, yet his words were clear. He took his time speaking the oath, carefully sounding out words, working hard to avoid mispronunciation. The Oath in question was the older version, from before Deathstroke's insurrection, but Danyal spoke it with a calm certainty that it would be accepted.

And without a doubt, it would be accepted.

Talia's eldest son had been born from her body instead of through science, a mistake that nearly cost her the child and damaged him upon birth. While the best doctors in the world saved his life, Danyal Al Ghul would always be weak in a fight, always prone to illness, always struggling to excel. When it became clear that the boy couldn't become the next Demon Head, Ra's sent Talia to create a replacement while arrangements were made for her first child to be taught business and science, for the betterment of the League. Danyal, very much his father's child, thrived in his intellectual pursuits while Damian grew and developed into a budding assassin.

But Danyal was more like his father than he'd ever knew. Ra's couldn't miss the signs of one of his family turning away from the League. Not the mission--Danyal had written several university level papers defending the environment by the time the boy was 10--but Ra's methods...

Ra's had a conundrum. Danyal was a dedicated conservationist; once the boy was an adult, Ra's was certain he'd take the world by storm and bring the League to new heights. But if he forced his methods onto Danyal, he could create an enemy of him, just as his father was.

Ra's gave Danyal an offer; Danyal would be allowed to leave the League and live a normal life if and only if he faked his own death in such a way that reinforced Damian's loyalty to the League of Assassins.

Danyal had been hesitant at first, but past his test with flying colors. Instigating one of the more unstable assassins into organizing a coup, cutting the insurgents off near immediately, but "dying" protecting both his younger brother and mother. It was a masterful performance. Even Talia hadn't known about the deceit.

And yet, here he was, on his knees, pledging loyalty. Danyal knew what that meant, knew what he was returning to, which morals he would be allowed to keep.

"And what do you bring with you, child of no one?" Why should the League accept the return of this child, who left once before?

Danyal met his eyes. "I bring with me, my team, who are loyal to me and me alone. I bring with me, research surrounding the Lazarus Pits, in origins and further uses for the waters." Ra's raised an eyebrow, and Danyal smirked. "I bring with me, my knowledge, nurtured within this very home and sharpened in the world outside. I bring with me, my weapons, built with my own hands. I bring with me... my body, finally healthy and whole." He brought his head down to the floor, trembling with pain. "I bring my whole self to the Demon's Head, for Him to accept or reject."

Ra's smiled. "By the shadows that guard our order and the blood that binds us, I accept this oath. From this day forward, you are an instrument of the League, a harbinger of justice, and a weapon in the hand of Ra's Al Ghul."

Danyal returned to his feet, swaying percariously. He needed immediate medical attention. Despite this, he continued, "Long live the League of Assassins. Long live Ra's Al Ghul."

And he collapsed onto the floor.