i'm sorry but i cannot stop thinking about it for reallll imagine you're richer than god and never had to face consequences for anything and you have so much money you don't even know what to do with it so you toss a quarter million at the stupidest tourism option on earth. and you see that the paper you have to sign tells you you could die and you look at the flimsy metal tube you're going to be plummeting into the ocean in and it doesn't even phase you because bad things don't happen to people like you. imagine some hours into the journey you realise something is wrong. maybe not you but somehow the knowledge that there was a fuckup becomes known to the 5 of you trapped in there. and you know you can't get out from the inside and you know you have no food and no bathroom and not even the room to ever stand up again. when does the realisation that your wealth cannot protect you from your inevitable mortality set in. how does someone like that reconcile with both death and the fact that it's 100% their own doing? can someone like this even come to terms with that or will they be fighting to find someone to blame until the last second? when does it reach you that all 5 of you are going to die one by one and there's nothing you can do? does the fact that 5 of you have enough air until thursday but one of you could have enough air until at least next week ever cross anyone's mind.
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If there is only one thing I would want to tell all trans people, it is this:
Please make it. You are worth it to see a better future; we will make this world kind. You are so needed, you are so wanted. We will make this world somewhere worth our light. I hope you can be by my side forever, I hope we can bask in the beauty of this world. I love you, trans person reading this.
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Potential DPxDC Prompt
Danny survived high school with his identity intact. It wasn't easy, and it involved "Phantom" making a deal with his parents to help fight the ghosts in return for their amnesty if permanent banishment back to the ghost zone, but no one was getting zapped or gooped or vivisected, so it's all great!
Meanwhile Danny Fenton, though his life, has perfected a near universal stain remover that's not just effective even post-washing, but is also environmentally friendly (thanks ghost zone chemists for working even after death on your craft). He decides to submit it to the Wayne Foundation's Innovations of the Future contest for a potential scholarship (Jazz was already teleprompting him from her college in sending out at least ten essays a week for scholarships from other sources).
He gets a full ride to the University of Gotham, along with a hefty contract for exclusive rights to his stain remover formula. The issue? Danny knows the product includes a short-lived form of ectoplasm to work, and he is very, very hesitant to allow something as big as Wayne Corp to learn about that.
His parents and their zeal caused so much harm just wanting to learn about the Ghost Zone. How dangerous would it be for an Entire Corporation, whose business is to exploit for gain, to learn about it? He didn't think this scholarship application through, did he?
Meanwhile Batco is horrified and aghast that a civilian not only sent in something with Lazarus water in it for a fuckin' scholarship, it is actually useful for something besides raising the dead!
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Prompt:
It’s not that Jason forgot, per se.
But between smuggling a toddler out of the League of Assassins, trekking halfway across the world, and finding a suitable hiding place that’s also child friendly… well, it kind of slipped his mind that he’s supposed to be… dead.
Something that comes back to bite him in the ass when he takes Dami out for some ice cream and just so happens to run into non other than Brucie-fucking-Wayne
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This was the kiss he’d been waiting for. It was a gunshot. It was prairie fire. It was the spin of Makker’s Wheel. Jesper felt the pounding of his heart—or was it Wylan’s?—like a stampede in his chest, and the only thought in his head was a happy, startled, Oh.
Please do not use, edit, or repost my art without permission.
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"Probably because they don't have a grave," Danny said, pulling out his vape. "Final resting places are--HEY!"
Nightwing held the pilfered vape above his head. "Where did you get this?" he asked, scandalized.
Danny jumped for it, but Nightwing was too tall! Even at 5'7 he'd have to use his powers to reach the vape; he had no chance as a 9 year old. "We're in Gotham! You're lucky I didn't get cocaine instead!"
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I think I blacked out for a bit i suddenly have art to post
anyway have my take on cursed cat alastor I love this unholy little thing and u should too
(Cc al bullying vox is one of my reasons to live istg)
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