#the possibilities are endless!!!!

[stealingyourbones]

I desperately need more mentor uncle figures and mentor brother figures in DPxDC to fill the interesting relationship dynamic gap that father figures stories can't always fill are u picking up what I'm putting down. Hell, just a regular friendship relationship with absolutely 0 familial dynamic.

[egophiliac]

GET LOVED, IDIOT

GET LOVED SO HARD YOUR KIDS HOLD HANDS AND POWER-OF-LOVE YOU BACK TO LIFE

sorry guys, this is just my brain now. this is going to be the only thing I think about for the next week at least.

oh and also this

FIVE YEARS IN AND IT'S FINALLY CANON 🎉🎉🎉

WE DID IT

[rupertgayes]

thanks guys

[zarla-s]

not good numbers, gaster

[index] [patreon] [comicfury]

[oh-no-its-bird]

Actually super funny to me that Orochimaru pretty much just. Wins. By the end of Naruto. Like, congrats guys!! Hes officially immortal now!!

To me this means that every time I see a joke about how "it's the year 2098, and were watching soruto, son of goruto, son of horuto, son of boruto, son of naruto" Orochimaru is still just. There. Chilling.

Untill someone goes out of their way to specifically kill this guy (not out of the question tbh) he will, by default, just kind of be around for the rest of time in all Naruto media. Good for him, honestly

[alltheglowingeyess]

seen people on twt saying british thalia is confirmed by rick and just saying i can't wait for percy to cut thalia off mid-argument like "tea and crumpets innit" and then get blasted into the fucking stratosphere

[demaparbat-hp]

Zuko's eyes watered against his will when the ghost of a woman he did not know smiled at him like he was her child.

Zuko decided right there and then that maybe, just maybe, this too was something he came to find.

Ghost-Mother takes a look into Zuko's soul in For the Spirits Chapter IX: A Rider Alone.

More than a stranded soul, Kya holds all the love of the Old Tribe and the means to calm a coming tempest. Zuko won't ever forget her.

(He won't be allowed to.)

[frownyalfred]

Us Batfamily fic writers need to get even more creative with the kind of tech the Bats use on patrol. I’m talking like ascending/descending tones in their earpieces to indicate incoming hostiles or attacks. Sensors and biometrics in the armor with read-outs in their lenses. Little metal clips attached to their back molars so they can engage comms or other tech hands free by clicking their teeth together a certain way. Gloves that lock a certain way depending on how the fingers are positioned so they can activate their gauntlets for a fall/slide. Magnetic soles to their boots that engage with a certain click command. Implants they can trigger by holding their breath long enough to indicate they need a rescue. Etc.

[songofcodependency]

Truth spell, except it’s with established late season samdean who already know and accept pretty much everything about eachother.

Dean confesses to wanting to lock Sam up and never let him see the outside world again, Sam doesn’t bat an eye, he learned that years ago.

Sam confesses that that he’s wanted to take a gun and shoot their dad multiple times in his life, that he’s gotten scarily close to it a few times. Does it hurt dean a little? Yeah, but he’s had a feeling for a while now.

Dean confesses to wanting to fuck a 14 year old Sam. Sam didn’t know it started when he was that young, and yeah it’s objectively a little creepy, but it doesn’t bother Sam in the slightest.

Sam confesses to being able to forgive anything dean does. He could do the most heinous, disgusting thing and Sam would make excuses for him. Dean didn’t know Sam felt like that, but it doesn’t really surprise him.

Sam confesses to wanting to cannibalize dean

Dean confesses to being kind of thankful that Jess died

Sam confesses to a seriously fucked up gun kink

Dean confesses to sleeping with sams crushes on purpose so Sam wouldn’t date anyone

Sam confesses to hurting himself while Dean was with girls so he would have to leave his date

And each time either they already know, accept and forgive it without hesitation, or just simply don’t care. They realize that their relationship is really messed up, but they also know it’s the best thing they have and that they’re not ever going to leave each other no matter what, so why get hung up on old stuff?

[oobbbear]

mime and her little devil friend

[three-semicolons]

I wrote a post a while back about the fun that could be had with Dick’s canonical tendency to hallucinate. This is not directly expanding on that prompt, but does something similar.

This is a classic “Dick sees Jason and quite literally does not believe his eyes” short. It’s my first. Enjoy?

Dick strided towards the front door of his apartment, already shrugging off the top layers of his police uniform.

The day had been exhausting in the most mundane of ways. A pile of paperwork, larger than average but still within a standard deviation of the normal load. There were three separate repeat calls from the same bar a few miles from the BPD office — a regular had become incensed after a bad encounter with hallucinogens, leading him to seek comfort in a place he was familiar with and inadvertently harassing the other customers. Knowing Bludhaven, the man was probably much more likely to become another member of the overcrowded incarcerated population than receive the care he needed (not that the neighboring Arkham Asylum would be a better fit). Dick had assisted in de-escalation, his talent in that field far surpassing the other available officers on duty.

The encounter made Dick uncomfortable, if for a reason far different than his co-workers. The deepest recesses of his mind couldn’t help but notice the similarities between himself and the man he had talked down. Dick struggled with his own delusions at times; never enough to lose himself in them, always cognizant of their nature as hallucinations and managing to work around them, but he was nonetheless a victim of his mind’s creations more frequently than he’d care to admit.

Some days he wondered when the blurred lines would smudge into nothingness. He wondered when he would try to defend a victim of a crime who wasn’t there, or render himself vulnerable by attacking a phantom assailant instead of the real criminal behind him. He wondered if one day he’d laugh at a comment Tim never made and be unable to explain himself out of it. He wondered if one day he’d yell at Bruce over a conflict that never occurred. He wondered if he would be able to handle the concern, the disappointment, that he could already envision painted on the older man. He wondered when he would be the next reason for the BPD to be contacted for a public disturbance, and whether they’d be just as eager to lock him away for the crime of mental instability.

But things were getting better, Dick thought. He’d sought professional counseling under a pseudonym after a particularly convincing apparition of his dead brother almost managed to throw him off patrol. He could handle the anguish he felt at seeing his brother’s swollen, limp corpse, but he drew the line at threatening the lives of civilians. After some counseling, the psychologist had recommended a small list of prescriptions and grounding techniques, and from there he’d marched over to Leslie for long-term management of his medicine.

Things were alright. Never great — sometimes the static of his police-issued radio turned into the whispers of the dead, and sometimes he felt the soles of his boots squelch under phantom coagulating blood — but it was alright.

Everything was fine.

He pushed in the door, and on the other end was the unmistakable face of his brother wearing the costume of the Red Hood, helmet wedged between his armpit and his ribs, hand frozen midway into a bag of Lays Barbecue chips that Dick had left in the pantry for whenever Tim came to visit. Dick watched in awe as Red-Hood-Jason loudly chewed for half a second, paused, and then slowly resumed his chewing.

Dick blinked. Jason blinked back.

And then all at once, his eyebrows furrowed and his green (green?) eyes flashed.

“Are you going to say anything?” Another moment of silence. Jason snarled. “Are you that fucking pathetic? Am I that worthless to you? Do you have any idea how much you fucking failed me? Do you have anything to say for yourself, you piece of shit?”

Another blink.

“…did I really mean that little to you? Was I too worthless for a reaction? Did you care at all?”

Really, hours could have passed, or seconds. Dick had no idea. He felt the careful poker face crafted from a decade of fighting crime struggling to keep itself from shattering. He pulled out his phone, dialed a number, and waited casually as it rang. He gazed onwards, looking at the adult visage of his brother, his eyes glassy enough to suggest he may have been seeing nothing at all.

The phone finally connected. “Hey Leslie?” He began, with a stoic nonchalance that couldn’t be anything but fake, “I think I might need to raise that dosage again.”

The Jason in his mind somehow managed to furrow his eyebrows further. Numbly, Dick thought it was unrealistic to imagine a man with his eyes that narrowed. They didn’t even look open anymore.

Leslie responded. Dick put her on speaker, so her sympathetic voice echoed through the cramped entry of his home. “How come?”

“I’m seeing Jason again. The hallucination is extending to other elements of the world. He’s eating my chips.” Dick swallowed. “I don’t… it’s not- I don’t think it’s safe for me to be patrolling if I’m beginning to lose a grip on the state of my surroundings.”

Leslie audibly hummed. “I can’t argue with that. We’ll put you on a higher dose, give it a few days, and see where-“

And then, once again, the hallucination of his dead brother erupted. “What the fuck are you talking about? What the fuck is going on? Why the fuck are you ignoring me?”

The other end of Dick’s phone stayed silent. Finally, the tentative voice on the other line spoke. “Who was that?”

“Wait, you heard that?”

Both Dick and Jason were now staring wide-eyed at the phone in his hand. Leslie sounded unsure of herself when she responded with a “yes”.

The glassy haze disappeared in an instant. Suddenly, Dick’s eyes were dilated, flicking back and forth between the phone in his palm and the figure leaning stiffly on his sink.

“You know what, Leslie? Never mind. Can I call you back later?”

And, without waiting for a response, Dick hung up.

[dreamyblanket]

DRAGON COOKIE Y/N /nf

but instead of the imposing structure. They’re floofy.. (marshmallow fluff dragon)

I thought this was a super cute idea!! I choose a more sheep look for them so they were more cuddly //^^//

[cloudyysworld]

It's so funny that in the show full with magical beings and gods and demons but the fandom is so obsessed with a human calling himself "Hob". Like hell yeah he is just a guy, a totally normal dude, just a college professior but if anything trying to harm him fucking Dream of The Endless will appear in your house and send you into the realm of darkness.

[more-mara]

Oscar “every ships third” Piastri

[laur-the-cat-prince]

i was out! i was able to break away from my hyper fixation just to be sucked right back in.

that trailer was so sick…