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#if you can’t tell I love them
prodogg · 1 year
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Im a simple man, I see Ursa and Azula getting along good and it gets instantly liked by me.
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sillylittleedits · 5 months
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lazylittledragon · 3 months
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please continue with dadstarion if you want to. we lov him
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don’t worry i don’t need to be asked
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spookeart · 4 months
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They’re bonding
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deadpearls · 3 months
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good evening gigolas truthers
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the-witchhunter · 6 months
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DP x DC: Puppy Love
Waiting for my friend in the emergency room(they’re fine, we’ll not fine obviously but not actively dying) so might as well write on my phone
So if there are two things I’m adamant about it’s that Alfred should still be alive and that DC SHOULD GIVE JASON BACK HIS DOG
For those poor souls that do not know, Jason had a dog name, and this is 100% true, Dog. Jason is canonically bad at naming things so he named his dog Dog. And the storyline between him and her is actually really touching. He rescued her from a dog fighting ring where she was used to bait dogs. Jason earned her trust showed her kindness and she loves him for it and it makes me emotional. GIVE JASON BACK HIS DOG YOU MONSTERS
She’s not dead just got written out by giving her to someone, but still, that man loves and pampers Dog, gave her an engraved nameplate and everything
But consider Cujo, the ghost of a dog being trained to be a guard dog, put to death long before his time wanting the thing that made him happy in life: his toy. Danny finds him, bonds with him and helps him get back the thing he loves most, and Cujo loves Danny for it.
A story as old as time, a boy and his dog, or in Danny’s case a boy and his ghost dog.
So imagine this: Danny moved to Gotham with Cujo and things are going great, except for one thing.
Cujo has a little crush
Now normally this wouldn’t be a problem, but Cujo is a ghost. Aka he can walk through walls. So when Cujo wants to visit his lady friend, he just bolts right through the wall, and leads Danny on a merry chase.
Meanwhile Jason is confused to come home to his penthouse only to find Dog cuddled up with a smaller green dog that isn’t Beast Boy. The other dog is friendly and gets along with Dog, but it’s driving him crazy wondering how he got in without tripping an alarm. Then there’s a knock on the door
Jason opens the door to find an out of breath guy about his age with black hair, blue eyes and windswept hair that might have been intentional if it hadn’t been for a few leaves stuck in it.
And that’s how Jason met Danny
Cut to this happening a few more times and then turns into organizing little “dates” for their dogs and the while falling slowly in love with each other romcom style
That’s right, this has been a romcom about two dog owners falling in love because their dogs are literally obsessed with each other
Bonus: Danny giving Cujo “the Talk”
Danny, wagging his finger: Don’t make a rosemary’s baby, understand?
Cujo: Bark
Danny: ... good.
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kyurochurro · 4 months
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TNG character sketches!! been wanting to draw this crew for a hot sec so I got around to it at 3 am last nite… LOL
(also I haven’t started tng yet but hey I dedicate this to my DAD big tng fan first Trekkie I ever met SHOUTOUT TO YOU DAD 🗣️)
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rendevok · 1 year
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The sensation of waking up next to you ❤️💙
+bonus doodle:
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…and they mimir’d happily ever after the end. ❤️
(ID under cut!)
Miles is roused from sleep by sunlight shining on his face. Slowly, his eyes adjust to the light, until finally, his scope of awareness broadens to a body he had been sleeping on.
Page 2
Miles looks up to the figure that holds him, and upon seeing, his eyes widen in recognition.
Miles looks up to the figure that holds him, and upon seeing, his eyes widen in recognition.
The bottom panel of the page shows minimal details of a window shedding light onto the bed and blankets as seen from a higher view in the room.
Page 3
On the other side of the bed, Phoenix rests, his head propped by the headboard. His hair is messy from sleep, and his expression is thoughtful. The light of the morning highlights his features.
The sun shines through the blinds of the window.
Phoenix finally notices his observer, and turns to look at him.
Page 4
Phoenix takes Miles’ hand in his, and lifts it to gently kiss the ring on Miles’ finger. They both move to share a kiss, and their hands shift to hold one another. Miles’ ring sparkles in the sunlight.
Page 5
They link their fingers as they kiss, and the morning creates a quiet atmosphere around them.
They part, but remain close, their fingers fully interlocked. Phoenix greets “Good morning,” with a tender, loving expression as he looks at Miles. Miles’ own expression is soft, unguarded, and fixed on Phoenix.
Page 6
Phoenix and Miles settle back into their shared bed; the morning sun illuminates them. They both smile softly, seeming happy and at peace. Miles rests his head under Phoenix’s neck, and his hand on Phoenix’s chest. One of Phoenix’s hands rests over Miles’ own on his chest, while his other hand holds Miles closer, revealing a matching ring of his own. Both rings shine softly in the sunlight.
Bonus image
A small simple drawing of Phoenix and Miles having fallen asleep again while holding each other as in the final page of the comic.
End ID.]
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amethysttribble · 19 days
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Father had personally asked Feanor to stand for this portrait, so he was. Father had quietly suggested that perhaps this could be a painless exercise, which did not actually mean ‘painless’ but rather ‘silent’ for Feanor, but he agreed. Father told him this painting did not symbolize anything but his own desire to have a record of all his available loved ones around him, and Feanor was trying to see it that way- for the sake of his own sanity.
Because his stomach was roiling, and there was a heaviness in his chest, a great emptiness which his heart was pounding against, echoing, echoing, echoing.
Father had one hand on Feanor’s shoulder and the other was upon Indis’s. She was sat in front of them, smiling beautifully, little golden-haired Arafinwe in her lap. Around them, her three dark-haired children were gathered. Findis on Father’s other side, Nolofinwe with her, and Lalwen in front of Feanor.
To the unaware eye, Feanor knew, they must all look like they matched. Like they went together correctly. Like a family.
When the portrait was complete and those dark haired children were gathered around the mother and father, who would guess that one child was out of place? Who might glance at all that paint representing their faces and think anything but-
You could almost be her son, Feanor thought, and then his mind replied, But you’re not.
He was so still and he dared not move, because if he did, he’d never get back in place. If Feanor flinched once, the sharp, jagged pieces of him that never fit right in this puzzle would scratch one of them. They’d be annoyed and that would be it: he’d combust in anger, he’d shatter across the floor, snapping and snarling at everyone unnecessarily until he ruined their perfect little scene. Father said this might be a painless exercise. No, no; this was to be a silent, still exercise.
You could almost be her son. But you’re not.
How good a painter was this person Father hired? How varied his faces? Would he capture that Feanor’s nose resembled that of none of the people here? Could he represent that his frame was already different from his father and little half-brother’s?
Would he lie and throw a pleased smile on Feanor’s face? Not even Father had asked him to smile.
You could almost be her son. But you’re not.
Feanor’s presence made them fit together so symmetrically, maybe that was pleasing enough to hide the wrongness of this scene. Maybe that’s why Father made him come here today, the pretty scene. Why he asked him to suffer, even as the longer he stood here, the more and more Feanor felt like he was about to be sick all over the floor.
A ghost, a ghost, there was a ghost looming over their shoulders ruining this perfectly symmetrical scene. Couldn’t they feel her breathing down their necks, icy chill against sweat? Didn’t their perfectly posed heads feel her long, clever fingers wrapped lovingly around their necks?
You could almost be her son. But you’re not.
Feanor’s gaze slipped down to the back of Indis’s head. Her beautiful golden hair. She didn’t wear a crown, this was a family portrait, and that felt worse. So much worse.
If he let his eyes unfocus and his mind wander, he could try to lie to himself that her hair was much lighter and the faces of the children around them more closely resembled his own. The woman in front of him loved him, and she fussed over his hair before they sat for this portrait, and he’d let her do it.
The worst part was Feanor did know that Indis would help him with the ties of his robes, if only he let her.
You could almost be her son. But you’re not.
She’s not, she’s not, she’s not. It was a simple statement of fact. It was scandal enough that the father replaced the wife, when one at least chose a wife, but what freak replaced his own mother?
What would the people who saw this portrait think? Would they see Finwe’s happy family or would they see Feanor’s blaring, uncomfortable intrusion upon what gods and men declared to be a better order of things? Father wanted him to belong here, but he didn’t.
He just didn’t.
You could almost be her son. But you’re not.
A painless exercise. Painless, painless, painless, for them. Silent, still Feanor, a happy accessory to the triumphant union of Finwe and Indis, a grateful stray dog permitted to drink from the bowls provided by Indis’s family.
This exercise was just meant to capture the image of all Finwe loved, nothing more. Don’t think too hard about it, Feanor. You might make the children unhappy.
You could almost be her son. But you’re not.
You should pretend you are, though. That’ll make them like you.
Because they did so disdain him, most of the time. They disliked how he glared at their mother and started fights at family dinners and ignored them in the hallways. Why shouldn’t they? Feanor would hate a person who did those things to his family, too.
He just couldn’t stop, though. He wanted to, sometimes, when the exhaustion and loneliness caught up, and then he remembered that he wasn’t Indis’s son and never would be, and remembering that made him angry. Wouldn’t it just be so damn convenient for them all if he was almost her son?
But he wasn’t.
He was Miriel’s son. That was her name. He had no portrait with her. He loved her.
He loved Miriel, but it was Indis he posed with and-
When the session was done, Feanor jerked away from his father and shoved his way past Lalwen. As he went, Indis looked up at him, caught his eye, and he couldn’t help the sneer that crossed his face.
He hoped that was painless enough for her.
When he returned to his chamber, he went to the wash room and heaved in the pot there. The gagging and retching made wetness prick his eyes, and the sudden tightness of throat made him choke all the harder. The sickness and heaving stayed long past when there was anything in his stomach to lose.
No one came. Feanor hoped maybe Father would, but really, why would he? Feanor had been mostly good, just a little rudeness wasn’t worth either reprimand or comfort.
No, they were together. Maybe admiring their portrait, happy and pleased, or complaining about his behavior again. Really, why couldnt that Curufinwe just accept nice things?
I need to get out of here, Feanor thought, face and body wet with both sweat and tears. I need to leave this place.
He was a good son, and he could do anything else his father wanted but betray his mother any more.
Feanor couldn’t pose as Indis’s son even a second longer. He would destroy himself, if he had to think one more time-
You could almost be her son. But you’re not.
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littlerosette · 3 months
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i cannot believe that katniss everdeen became the “anti-bella” figure when the hunger games first came out. i cannot believe that she was widely known as someone who was “strong” and “independent” and “didn’t care about boys or romance” and was distinctly anything that’s considered “not feminine” (because that’s bad!) when in the books, she’s the most Teenage Girl teenage girl that i’ve ever run into in any medium. she’s kind, and compassionate, and nurturing, and moody, and angry, and occasionally verbally nasty, and she loves music, and art, and having picnics with the boy she likes. there’s nothing about her that’s stoic and unfeeling. for as subversive as the hunger games was in regards to gender roles, she never feels like someone who resents her own womanhood. she never sees being a woman as a weakness. as a defective state of being. suzanne collins never uses her to knock down traits that we commonly see as “feminine” the way so many other authors do with their “strong” female protagonists. she’s a complex, fully fleshed out teenage girl who thinks and acts like a teenage girl, and you cannot get away from that. and there is some part of me that is resentful that the movie franchise came off on the heels of twilight because i think katniss’s characterization would be so different if the movies came out today. i don’t think the directors would’ve gone so far out of their way to make her a stereotypical stoic badass instead of what she actually is: a kind, moody teenage girl.
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Lil whiteboard thing of Tycho (Heart), Jupiter (Mind), and Terra (Whole)! I wanted to be silly with my guys (pro tip don’t try this on whiteboard, if you accidentally erase it’s hell)
Also have silly doodles under the cut so I don’t spam the cccc tag lmao. There’s a lot of Saturn- sorry he’s just so silly to do on whitboards
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chaoticace2005 · 14 days
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People conditioned to believe all their value as a person comes from their academic grades (despite knowing that the education system is messed up):
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“If I can’t (score well in classes) what’s the point of me?”
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starzonez · 11 months
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born from a wish
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wormzandgutz · 7 months
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more bros
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bearforceone3 · 4 months
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my favorite duo (give them another book)
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seasonalberries · 1 year
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Miri is no.1 Wingman ✌️
Bonus 🪄
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