per anon’s request, i present to you THE best version of beatrice’s monologue in much ado about nothing. i thought about cropping this but decided this scene must be watched in its full glory

im so sorry i get it now i really do, the gay angels have me shaking screaming crying at all hours of the day and night, they mean everything to me i am literally thinking about them all the time and what it would mean to love someone steadily and silently through eternity, what it would mean to love across the lines of a divine war of supposed good and evil, what it would mean to carve out a space for oneself and ones lover in no man’s land, in the grey and moral ambiguity when you were created to be black and white without blemish. god i love them so much i just

I'm in A Mood™ (stressed) so im going back to my roots of melting two character together into one person. So bruce wayne!danny fenton. Danny Fenton who, for eight years, grew up in a beautiful gothic manor with his mom and dad under the name "Bruce Wayne". Playing piano with his mother, running around the manor with his father.

Then when he's eight it's ripped away from him. There's blood on his hands and pearls pooling at his feet, and both his parents are dead in front of him.

And he gets shipped off to distant relatives "the Fentons" shortly after, Alfred close on his heels because someone needs to take care of him, someone that knows him. Bruce goes to the Fentons for the safety of anonymity. Gotham's press wants to sink its teeth into him.

Danny misses his city even if it took everything from him. There are shadows in his eyes and he's pale as a sheet even beside his distant cousins, and they change his name to "Danny Fenton' because nobody should know that their newest child was illustrious orphan Bruce Wayne.

They call him Bruce behind closed doors. Danny prefers it that way, he clings onto the name -- the one his parents gave him -- like a lifeline. He makes friends with Sam and Tucker. Tucker takes one look at the willowy, morbid little boy standing in the corner like a shade, ghosts in his eyes, and drags him out into the sunlight, and takes him over to Sam.

When Danny is twelve, he's still not over it -- and he's a little obsessed with the Fentons' research, with the morbid. He has books upon books on death, murder, detective work. Anything he can get his hands on. And stars. He loves stars.

Alfred owns the apartment next to them and comes over regularly. Danny clings to him.

When Danny is twelve, he's still quiet, meek, a shy little thing prone to being bullied. Freaky little Fenton with the night in his eyes and too-cold skin even before he put one foot in the grave. in a sleepover in his room with Sam and Tucker, he tells them the truth. They're his friends, he trusts them.

"My name is Bruce." he murmurs, voice quiet as the breeze, always quiet. he's staring at his star-covered sheets.

"Like Bruce Wayne?" Tucker asks, a joking tone in his voice.

Danny smiles a little, lamb-like with insecurity. "I am Bruce Wayne." And he takes them down to the lab, disrupting Maddie and Jack, to prove it. Sam tells them of her own wealth then shortly after. They start calling Danny "Bruce" in private too -- its trust. Thats what it is. It's trust.

Sam goes to media functions and comes back with aching feet and complaints on her tongue -- and Danny soaks it up all like a sponge, splayed across a beanbag chair with Tucker in her room. He's not envious of her, he used to go to events with his parents and they kept him safe from the ugly of Gotham's Elite. For the most part. He's had comments made at him, he doesn't miss them.

Alfred returns to the manor semi-regularly, Danny goes with him. he wanders the hallways and helps Alfred clean, the last thing either of them want is for their home to fall into disrepair. He brings Jazz with him next time, then Tucker, then Sam. They all help him clean, and he shows them his room. The one across from his parents', it feels strange.

When Danny dies when he's fourteen, the first adult he tells is Alfred. He and Jazz go over to his house more often than they stay in the Fentonworks building. At least at Alfred's, the food doesn't come to life. Alfred sits at the kitchen table and weeps when Danny tells him, Jazz is upstairs, and its just the two of them.

Danny's ghost form wears pearls around his wrist and the gloves look stained with some kind of black substance. He looks like a child who died in a lab accident, but he also looks like a child who has shadows dripping off his shoulders, curling at his feet, hanging from his eyes.

because amorphous blob batman has my heart always and danny/bruce will not escape it even in death even if that IS the only reason im giving him Mild BatBlob Vibes...so far

when they go to the manor, alfred helps danny make a pile of stones between Martha and Thomas' graves, nobody but the two of them (and sam and tucker) will know what it means. (not even bruce's children later down the line, not for a long, long time)

danny dives into ghost fighting on shaky feet and not half as witty as he once was in one world. he's skittish, skittering between blasts from shadow to shadow and clumsily making his way through each battle. but helping people lights a fire in him. he still has shadows dripping off his feet but there's a purpose in his eyes.

and god help him, he's going to help people.

Previous // Next

Oscar: Oi-.. what’re you doing with that? Robin: Taking pictures. Oscar: Alright, but be careful with it. Robin: I will. Oscar: You can’t take pictures of people using the bathroom though. Robin: Why not? Oscar: ‘Cause it’s private. Robin: Oh-.. but you’re done now. Oscar: True. Robin: So, is now okay? Oscar: Sure-.. you wanna take a selfie? Robin: What’s that? Oscar: Where you take a picture of yourself! Say cheese… Robin: Say pussy! Oscar: [cackles] Wha-.. don’t say that! Robin: Why? That’s what you says. Oscar: I’m a bad influence, apparently. [Robin grins, distracted by his father’s silly face] … Robin: Did dinosaurs take selfies? Oscar: Nah, cameras haven’t existed for that long-.. mama has an old polaroid camera somewhere; it prints the pictures out for you there and then, I’ll try n’ find it for you. [Robin’s eyes widen.. cool] Robin: If dinosaurs didn’t have cameras, how’d they end up on the TV? Oscar: Well.. they’re not real images, that’s just what we think they looked like. Robin: How’d you knows what they looked like without a picture? [Oscar laughed and shook his head; the kid had a good point] Oscar: Save your questions for tomorrow, Einstein. Robin: What’s that? Oscar: [chuckles] Tomorrow-.. nighty night, love you lotsies. Robin: Love you lotsies too, papa.

just some LoV sitting in the long lost bar in Ultra Impact in clothes that they didn't wear yet

While Tumblr is basically swarmed, zerg rushed even, by a neverending ocean of donation scams around The ConflictTM, Arab.org, which I see quite often here, has got to be the most creative fleecing project I ever came across. While (only) technically not a scam, the organization claims it donates 1$ per 1 click of the shiny button, but the data they provide in their "transparency" section (big LMAO) doesnt add up to the traction it gets on the web. Like, the premise of "you watch 1 ad we donate 1$ of the ad revenue" is genius because you dont have to disclose how many ppl watch how many ads, the PPC conversion rate (this specifically is CRUCIAL info for actual transparency), the budget pool per ad set for donations etc. I pulled out the donation receipt they got from UNRWA (second big LMAO) January 2024 and its around $900, while posts are getting 5 digit numbers of reblogs and interactions accumulating weekly. These 2 dudes straightup make boatloads of money (allegedly) that theyre not obligated to disclose, of which they donate maybe a minuscule fraction, and its all thanks to a bunch of thoughtless and lazy drones watching ads for them to boost their traction. And this is without mentioning that the """founder""" of this fleecing project is a literal old money billionaire jshbsjahb

nothing happens

jegulus | M | 3 parts of ?

James and Regulus meet when they're kids, and it doesn't take them long to become friends. Best friends, even. And it's fine, because they're young, and love is easy and simple, and it can't be mistaken for anything else.

Then they grow. And their friendship turns into something else entirely. But it should still be fine if nothing changes, right?

If nothing happens.

heart: Help! I’m drowning!

mind: Calm down. We’re only in six feet of water!

heart: NOT ALL OF US ARE TALL!

‎

since the spiderverse fandom is dying out, i have a confession to make

i thought gwen and miles were already dating until i saw the clocktower scene and was like "wait.. they're just friend?"

istg theres no better way to get into a piece of media than by watching/reading/listening to it with somebody who already knows and adores said thing. The joy and excitement is INFECTIOUS.

fuck it sk8 sketches from da sketchbook. get sk8ed idiot

Roose Bolton

the bolton colors/sigil is my aesthetic to a t. cutesy and pink but also disgusting

dont know what eyes paler than stone but darker than milk means. what kinda stone are we talking abt here. so. i hope the color is somewhat accurate

whoever thought that “reverse style” classrooms are a good idea in a college environment deserve to be in jail

im glad you're thinking about sukuna's mouth on his tummy because i think about it every single day

literally its so 😵‍💫😵‍💫 the things he could do with that good lorddddd . just imagine sukuna being a tease, not allowing you to ride his cock(s) & instead just sits you down on his abdomen. you’d think he’s encouraging you to pleasure urself by grinding against his abs, but no :3

itd literally be a jumpscare bye omg that mouth on his tummy would open suddenly and start eating you OUTTTTT . it’d be nastyyyyy 🦭 like it has a mind of its own i swearrr

.

Sooooooooooo do you like nerdy men?

nerdy men i am on my knees presenting all of my holes for u