#young emotional thing

[plumbrosia]

looking in the mirror and seeing an old man

being around old people and feeling like absolute baby

[ofswordsandpens]

the first time Percy and Annabeth use their nicknames on each other it is genuine teasing but what's really funny about it is that Annabeth calls him Seaweed Brain first and he literally has no thought or opinion on it like it does not phase him in the slightest but when he calls her Wise Girl in return she immediately blushes... like girl come on keep your cool

[ravenpureforever]

On one hand, Young Justice is kind of neglected by the actual superheroes that should be looking out for them in a lot of crucial ways and very much failed by the adults around them

But on the other hand Red Tornado straight up hosts a parent-teacher conference where their respective legal guardians all show up, barring Batman who’s in traffic so Nightwing fills in instead because Robin’s dad does not know he’s a vigilante which is objectively hilarious

[bunnieswithknives]

I feel bad for neglecting Hazel so much, I do have many thoughts about her.. and also a mermaid au that im probably not going to do anything with

[saturnvs]

am overcome with nostalgia and i must draw her

[journey-to-the-attic]

late halloween drawing! went for a little ddvd au thing because it's been on my mind lately (though i draw regular ik so small sometimes you might not even be able to tell)

and bonus! cryptids spotted crossing the road (asmo snuck up and caught levi unawares)

[ahhrenata]

GO TIGERS GO 📣

@chocoarts has once again blown my mind by bringing my little steddie lines to life. I don’t even have words to describe how in awe I am of choco’s skills. The lighting, the colors, the style, EVERYTHING is just so breathtaking- I’m forever grateful and honored to collab with you 💕

Concept: I say both of us! I said a pre-s4 steddie pep rally and you specified s2 :)

Literally everything else (including Reefer Rick 🤩): @chocoarts

the bare-bones sketch i sent under the cut:

[gardenfairie]

If I had a nickel every time a young queer teen boy in a coming of age story was depicted as Romeo (from Romeo & Juliet) because he's in a relationship with a girl he's not meant to be with all while he's in love with another boy... I'd only have 2 nickels- but it's funny that it happened twice

Mike Wheeler (Stranger Things)

Elias (Young Hearts)

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 71

Klarion is delighted, excited, impatient, and so very happy. He’s found a friend, not the justice league baby-crew who don’t know how to make friends properly or the order-magician who doesn’t play right, but another realm-being his age! They’re even around the same death-date, his is just a couple years earlier! But to beings who aren’t adults until they’re well into the hundreds that’s practically nothing!

His new friend even has a familiar too- even if he has to explain what a familiar is- and, and even shares his two other friends with him! 

He’s been in this world for what feels like so long trying to make friends and he’s made three in just a month! And they even know how to properly play and wrestle without targeting Teekl like a certain order lord who he doesn’t like. 

Oh! Hey it’s the justice league kiddy-crew! Were they feeling neglected or something?

[bruhstation]

can't it even be more obvious thomas. why are you surprised that a sudrian historical site filled to the brim with armor and weaponry that dates back to the middle ages has old people afflicted with the gold dust working around the castle

[idontmindifuforgetme]

The whole “be responsible not for other people’s feelings but to them” distinction is so so true… at some point you need to realize that other people’s insecurities really are their responsibility & dimming or contorting yourself to make them feel better helps neither you nor them. Firstly, bc they need to realize what they’re doing and grow up. And secondly, bc you’re not just compromising on a one-time thing. You’re comprising on who you are as a person. I don’t want to look back when I’m older and stay stuck wishing I held my ground despite people’s projections or asserted my presence more or didn’t apologize so much for who I am. I really just want to own everything (the good and bad) & continue doing what makes me happy

[pianokantzart]

Not me thinking thinking about how good of a brother Mario is and how there's literally nobody better that Luigi could've clung to while he sorts out his own anxiety.

Mario acknowledges that Luigi is a fearful person, but doesn't think any less of him for being scared. He doesn't see Luigi's bad luck as a burden, even when he tries to make sure he's safe and protected at every turn. Mario gets annoyed by his brother on occasion, but doesn't degrade or talk down to him– not even jokingly. He just puts up with it and forges ahead without drawing attention his brother's mistakes. Then when it comes to Luigi's victories, even small ones, he dwells on them and gets excited without an ounce of insincerity or exaggeration.

The worst thing Mario does is get a little too caught up in his impulses and emotions to listen, but otherwise he's so rock solid, even apart from his three-day adventure solely focused on saving Luigi's life.

[lloydfrontera]

i can't get over how cute javier is when he introduces himself to ppodong. he's so serious about it that lloyd thinks he's about to question his cover story for how ppodong was summoned but no. he was just thinking really hard about how he should call him or if he had a name. and then when lloyd gives him the go ahead to call ppodong however he wants he just. calls him sir ppodong and fucking shakes hands with him. he introduces himself and shakes hands with the hamster like c'mon that's so fucking cute i cannot stop thinking about it just look at him

it's adorable.

and it's also one of the first times in the novel that you get the sense that 'oh. that's a kid.' it's subtle and lowkey but you can kinda feel that javier is actually excited about ppodong, he's curious about him and really gentle when he meets him. like. he's just a kid. a kid that probably never had a pet before and is now in close proximity with a cute and fluffy little hamster and just. wants to know his name.

it's just. it's very cute.

[aroshi-wish]

Comforting egg drawings

[flowercrowngods]

The Last Day.

Steve doesn’t remember what drove him here — he doesn’t remember a lot of things lately, not that he’s mentioned that to anyone. They don’t really question these things anymore. Fucky vision, nightmares without sleeping, or things that just get lost in the everyday grind of remembering to do normal things like eat or drink or where the fuck he put his glasses.

So, he doesn’t remember what drove him here, if he was supposed to get something or if he just needed to get out of the gym, needed to breathe some air that’s not filled with anxiety and grief and the pressure of survivor’s guilt and why and how and when around every corner, behind every door, underneath every donated item and in every bite of stale peanut butter sandwiches.

The library was never a place of comfort for him, and he honestly never really cared about it one war or another. If pressed for it, he couldn’t name five books in all of these shelves. He never really looked.

But now, in the semi-darkness, the empty shelves are somehow daunting. All useful books were taken, children’s books donated to all the families that stayed, all science books stolen by people who were sure they could fix this, could get behind this, could build generators and water refineries and all that shit.

Somehow, the negative space in these shelves draws him in, and he takes a deep breath. A breath that Dustin would like, probably. It smells like books. It smells old. It smells like, somehow, somewhere, there might still be a constant in this world. Something that will remain. Like maybe there will always be a library that smells of old books. No matter how often the world will end.

It’s a strange thought. But comforting. He trails the shelves, not really looking at the books, walking too fast still to make out the titles in the dim light, but he refuses to stop. He refuses to stand. To linger.

The next two rows are completely empty, and it makes him shiver. Robin probably has a name for the feeling. Maybe melancholy. Or maybe he’s just haunted. Susceptible to absence.

Or maybe they’re the same feeling.

Blindly, he reaches for a book, because his hands begin to tingle and he really needs something to do before his lungs catch up and his brain finds out that he’s somehow almost about to panic, or to relapse, or to drop to the floor if his legs don’t regain feeling soon.

He keeps walking, the book in hand. It’s a slim edition, bound in leather, and it feels really old. Looks like it, too.

Michael Bruce

He carefully flips it open, the old paper crackling with the movement, and he wonders briefly if this is the part of the library that’s usually watched like a hawk, the part where you’re not allowed to touch the books without supervision and certainly not without reason. Maybe. Maybe this Michael Bruce hasn’t seen a real face in a long time.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to find out that they’re mostly poems—and of course they are, old books are almost always filled with poems.

He opens the book at a random page, still needing to settle his hands, his heart, his mind. The title makes his heart drop. “The Last Day.”, it’s called; still his eyes glide over the lines, intrigued.

Twas on an autumn's eve, serene and calm. I walked, attendant on the funeral Of an old swain : around, the village crowd Loquacious chatted, till we reach'd the place Where, shrouded up, the sons of other years Lie silent in the grave. The sexton there Had digg'd the bed of death, the narrow house, For all that live, appointed. To the dust We gave the dead. Then moralizing, home The swains return'd, to drown in copious bowls The labours of the day, and thoughts of death.

Okay. Sure. So, maybe this Michael Bruce dude is not the best company when the world is sort of ending. But somehow Steve can’t stop reading, and for the first time he kind of doesn’t want to stop reading a poem. This one’s different anyway. This one just… it gets him.

Images of Barb flood his mind. Eddie. Chrissy. Max. Everyone who was lost, everyone who has an empty coffin in their grave and an NDA penned to their name.

To the dust We gave the dead.

The labours of the day, and thoughts of death.

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t want to go back out there. Head to the gym and fold clothes and check the missing posters and make phone calls to find out, to make sure, to keep in touch. The labours of the day. The thoughts of death.

Shaking hands flip the pages, two at once, because he doesn’t want to live the last day; doesn’t want to hear about it. He needs to know how it ends, needs to make sure, needs to find out, just—

A pause ensued. The fainting sun grew pale, And seem'd to struggle through a sky of blood : While dim eclipse impaird his beam : the earth Shook to her deepest centre : Ocean rag'd, And dash'd his billows on the frighted shore. All was confusion. Heartless, helpless, wild.

Suddenly, what little light was left to stream through the windows disappears, stealing the words from beneath his eyes, and before he can look up and breathe, the door to the library bursts open, revealing a panicked Robin.

“Steve?”

“Robbie?”

“You… You better come see this.”

He hears it in her voice. The resignation. Oceans raging as the fainting sun grows pale. Confusion. Helpless, heartless, wild.

He closes Michael Bruce and runs toward her on numb legs, not ready to find out about the new apocalypse he’s gonna find outside the library. And seeing black skies through the windows and pale faces behind them, reflecting against the growing darkness, he wonders if he shouldn’t have skipped through the last day. The Last Day.

Terror in every look, and pale affright Sat in each eye ; amazed at the past, And for the future trembling.

Steve, too, is trembling. And Robin’s hand in his is shaking just as much.

Poetical works of Michael Bruce : with life and writings. William Stephen ed. 1895.

[teatitty]

Really in love with AU's rn wherein Bumblebee used to work for Sentinel. There's so many different avenues you can take that across continuities and a plethora of explanations for how and why he ends up on Team Prime [like spying. I really love the idea of BB initially being a spy for Sentinel who gets found family'd so hard he switches loyalties]