Manga-Wolfsengel

Here is the fudgiest brownie in a mug recipe I’ve found

Here are some fun sites

Here is a master post of Adventure Time episodes and comics

Here is a master post of movies including Disney and Studio Ghibli

Here is a master post of other master posts to TV shows and movies

*tucks you in with fuzzy blanket* *pats your head*

Here’s an emergency compliment

Here you can play 2048

Here’s a playlist of Bob ross

Here’s a website to watch movie’s and shows for free

Here’s a website to watch documentaries for free

Here you can to nothing for two minutes

Here you can break something. It’s good for anger

Here’s a button to press to make everything okay

Here’s a site to cut something up (TRIGGER WARNING)

Here’s a site that makes you a website depending on a song you choose

Here’s a gay comic. It’s adorable

Here you can spend Bill Gate’s money

Here you can draw your own island

Here you can learn about patterns website’s use

Here you can get your life stats

Here you can listen to the Tucker Zone (Headphones needed)

Here you can see how fast you’re moving

Here you can see the progress of time

Here’s the butterfly project

Here’s a snickerdoodle mug cake

Here’s a link to some free audiobooks

Here’s something to read when you feel like a burden

Here’s a secret

Here’s my playlist of some sea shanties 

Here’s another secret

Here’s a link to some cool websites 

Here’s a blog that gives you recipes for when you’re low on spoons

Here’s 100,000 stars

Here you can control the weather (TW FLASHING IMAGES)

Here you can weave silk

Here you can make a castle of your own

Here you can make a kaleidoscope drawing

Here you can explore recursion

Here you can draw with pasta

Here you can draw logo’s from memory

Here you can play this is sand, here you draw cool sand designs

Here you can play The Organ Trail

Here’s a customizable white noise website

Here you can simulate gravity

Here you can create your own guardian of the galaxy

Here you can make your own galaxy

Here you can have images of people point to where your pointer is

Here you can paint someone’s nails

Here you can grow a garden across your screen (Audio included)

Here you can try out all kinds of mind illusions (Trigger Warning: Flashing Lights)

Here you can see how many miles you have scrolled

Here you can watch a website load forever, although you might be getting enough of this on Tumblr mobile

Here’s a rickroll

Here you can remind yourself that you’re awesome.

Here you can throw trash into a dustbin only for it to bounce right back out (Audio included)

Here you can make sand dunes using sand (Audio included)

Here you can listen to a gentle rainstorm

Here you can make snowflakes

Here is a Line Rider feature film with relaxing music

Here is the entire script to the Princess Bride (many don’t need it but it’s fun to read anyway)

Here is an abbreviated script for the entirety of Book 1 of A:TLA that I made out of anger at the film that definitely doesn’t exist

Here is a playlist of the top 10 most relaxing songs ranked according to science

Immediately, Buck whines.

"Eddie, noooo don't move. I'm not done mapping out everything you did without me today."

Eddie laughs. "Or you can just ask me?"

"It's not the same," Buck pouts. His ears flop down sadly and ugh.

Eddie's weakness.

"Fine, fine," the man says as he settles back in where he had been before.

canon is what happens in the text. e.g. merlin tries to poison morgana

a headcanon is a fact that you have personally made up as an elaboration of canon. it is your invention. e.g. i think morgana and gwen had a teenage lesbian situationship before the events of canon. or, i think modern morgana would love evanesence.

an interpretation is how one reads the existing text. it is not an invented fact nor is it a headcanon, it is a reading. e.g. i think merlin tries to poison morgana out of misplaced self-hatred. or, i think that one line was delivered with suppressed malice and shows a nuanced relationship.

fanon is the general fandom’s accepted headcanons and interpretations that elaborate or recontextualize canon. e.g. merlin is a badass waif and morgana is a bitch.

You know how people were saying that Bruce isn’t any of his kid’s’ favorite hero? And then he finds out that Batman is Damian’s favorite but someone says something to Bruce along the lines of ‘you know that he doesn’t mean YOUR Batman right?’ That but make it angsty-er (but in a good way?) 

Were EVERYONE thinks that, that ^ is true, even Dick and Bruce, but it’s not true. Damian eventually finds out that that’s what people think when he says that Batman is his favorite, even bruce himself, and Damian absolutely looses it!

He LOVES his big brother, and is very grateful to Dick for looking out for him for all those months that bruce couldn’t, but he completely idolizes his father!

(I imagine that Talia, Ra’s and the LoA as a whole (at least those that were there when Bruce was) speak pretty positively about him (I also like to imagine that to the LoA that aren’t Al Ghuls speak/think about him as some kind of mythical figure)

And the something something Damian explodes at everyone when he finds out and he yells at the JL, YJ, TT, and Batfam as a whole, there are a lot of tears (from Damian, Dick, and Bruce) and maybe some fluff at the end if you’re feeling merciful lol

-🖤💙

"Who else would pick Batman as their favourite?"

"Ha!"

"Aw, thanks Dami."

"I'm Dick, I'm everyone's favourite, ooo look at me— ow!"

Damian dials his mother's number with trembling fingers. What emotion makes them shake, he can't be sure, there are too many emotions roiling in his chest. Anger, fear, shock, sadness, he could go on for days. Is has gone on for days.

It's been days since they played the game, guessing everyone's favourite heroes, and not one person, in a room of dozens of heroes, could fathom the idea that Damian might love his own father. Might actually admire aman with as many feats as him.

"Habibi?" Mother answers, worry audible. "It is late, for you to call me. What is wrong?"

He tucks his chin onto his knees, staring at his feet. "I need your help."

"Anything, my son. What do you need?"

"Robin," Wonder Woman intones. "I am inclined to believe you have called this meeting for rather frivolous reasons. Would you care to prove me wrong?"

Damian stands proudly at the head of the conference room. "This is not Justice League business, but personal. Nonetheless, I believe it is worth your time, when it regards maltreatment of one of your members. Bullying, one could say."

Richard leans forward, a hand hovering in Damian's direction. "Damian, are you being bullied?"

He stifles the force of it, but does not hide his scowl. "No, Richard. And given you are complicit, all of you are, I suggest you sit back."

Superman tilts his head. "All? Robin—"

"He is correct," Martian Manhunter interrupts. "The most recent event being only a matter of days ago. You will all do well to listen."

The room falls quiet, a tense layer settling over the room, grave faces directed towards him, and Damian nods his thanks to the alien.

He presses a button on the desk, where Diana usually sits, but Damian comandeered for his supplies. The monitor switches on behind him, to his prepared folder.

Batman comes onto the screen, and Damian stiffens at the groans that bounce around the room. "We were just teasing, Dick," Jason groans. "You got the kid to make a powerpoint about you?"

"Enough!" His voice cuts through the teasing before it can properly begin. "This is my issue with you all. You think you know everything, but really you know nothing."

Jason raises his brows, domino shifting to accommodate it, and Damian ensures his glare travels over the entire group.

"Batman is my favourite hero," he admits. "But it is not my brother, like you all asumed."

Several faces from the Justice League (Diana and Clark especially) fall, immediately grasping the situation.

"I am not sure why it is an impossible concept for you all that I might actually find my father worthy of admiration"—more faces dropping, some of disbelief, others incredulity—"but I seek to rectify this mistake of yours."

Richard sinks in his seat, as do some of his other siblings, but heroes across the room simply continue to stare.

"I'm sorry," Booster Gold checks, "did you call a meeting to brag about your dad?"

Damian nods firmly. "Yes."

"Score! I didn't know we were allowed to do that!"

"You're not," Clark hurries out.

"But he—"

"New rule."

"Dammit..."

"Damian."

He turns his back on Richard's call, looking up at the screen. "This is the collection I was shown as a child when I asked who my father was. It fostered a love and admiration for him, something it is clear many of you sorely lack. Thus I will show it to you, so that you may understand why my father is my favourite hero, not my brother."

The knock on his door thunders through the small room, and Bruce rolls his eyes. They can't even wait until the serum is out of his system?

"Enter," he calls, and the system opens the door.

Superman and Wonder Woman file in, looming awkwardly at the foot of his bed. "Any chance we don't talk about it?" he checks, and Superman cringes.

"What you revealed under the influence of the serum—"

"Is a risk to the Justice League," Bruce presumes. "I've been passively suicidal since I was a preteen, Superman, yet I have made it this far. I do not let it impact my work, especially if it would endanger others, be it teammates or civilians. You have nothing to worry about."

He gives them an expectant look. He gets somehow even more worried ones back.

"Batman, we're not...solely worried about casualties." Wonder Woman shifts from foot to foot. "You are our teammate. I cannot say friend, I shall not, I shall not give you falsehoods, but that does not mean we are completely apathetic to you."

Bruce shakes his head. "I have it under control."

"We're not offering a DNR." Superman's voice is firm. "We're not. You're a teammate. We're not just going to—"

"Respect my autonomy?"

Superman falters. "Batman. We are here to offer you support. Whatever you may need. But not a way out."

"Why not?" slips out of his mouth before he can even try to fight the serum. "I have nothing. My efforts in Gotham have bore no fruit, there is more suffering than ever. My son does not talk to me, my ex wife just experienced a miscarriage, as well. The man that raised me refuses to consider me family. I certainly cannot believe that there is anything genuine behind your intentions here, beyond wanting to absolve yourself of my eventual death, we founded a heroism league together and I cannot say I have ever considered our relationship to be anything but polite cooperation from both sides."

Bruce groans internally at everything he just revealed. Goddammit. He said all the things you're not meant to say aloud.

"Well then let's change that." Wonder Woman throws her lasso across the bed, so one end lands in Bruce's lap, and the other stays in her hand, and eases herself onto the foot of the mattress, one leg folded beneath her. "My name is Diana Prince of Themyscira, and I would like to become your friend. Not just so you don't kill yourself."

Superman looks physically pained by her last sentence, and judging by the alarm on her own face, that was the lasso's doing, not her own.

Awkwardly, he takes it from her, wrapping it around his fist. "Clark Kent, of Kansas. Kal-El of Krypton. I would also like to become your friend." Mischief sparkles in his eyes. "Not just so you don't kill yourself."

You said it was this au you wanted in the replies, so

"Rude."

Tim launches a book at Jason's head, which goes wide, but neither escalate further.

"We've not been that bad," Clark defends. "Making it about ableism when he was the one that decided to spend that time away from us."

"He's barely around anymore." Damian crosses his arms. "Why are we penalised for his choice to leave?"

"Wrong." Cass tips her chin up. "He tried." The weak attempts at shifting the blame away from themselves fall apart, and silence reigns until she speaks again, anger suffusing her voice. "I... I stopped because I don't get it." She taps her head. "I struggle. You don't care. You didn't stop listening. He stopped trying."

"So it is—"

"And you didn't notice."

"Does he really think we hate his autism?" Dick asks. His eyes lock onto Cass, something desperate in their depths. "He doesn't, right?"

She shrugs. "You do."

"I don't—"

"You hate what it does. Who it makes him. You're lucky he's smart. He knows you love him, at least. But do you?"

"Yes—"

"But do you?"

His jaw flexes. "Most of him."

"Not enough." She shrugs. "It isn't a feature, it is him. His brain is made differently, works differently. He shouldn't have to go to aliens to feel normal. He shouldn't be made to feel abnormal by aliens."

Clark disappears in a blur.

Cass doesn't react. "You must learn. I learn, I try, what do you do?" She stands, dusts off her thighs. "I don't want to do your thinking for you. You want to make things right, you fail until you get it right, like Bruce does. Not. My. Job."

touchstarved bruce with the JL

he's the youngest and they eventually figure it out and theyre all older siblings to him kinda thing

and they notice him being touchstarved and try to help him when they notice how desperate he is for contact

they get v angry from everything they hear about Alfred: the distance from actually naming their relationship to be family, refusing to comfort after nightmares, arkham bc he's 'too much', taking away food, slaps, locking him in the cellar, leaving him to 'sort his own messes' after a particularly bad patrol

not that Bruce can see anything wrong with Alfred's treatment of him

idk he must've eaten v young to train for this to work

no worries if not something ur interested in building on

Bruce gets deaged. They think he might be twelve. But he's small enough to pass for only ten years old. Scowling, Hal asks if they should comm Alfred, and watch Bruce flinch, then quickly pull his shoulders back, sit up straight, and fold his hands in his lap, sat prim and proper with his eyes fixed on the door.

That plan is quickly tossed.

They keep it on an information lockdown instead, keeping him on the Watchtower.

It's several weeks before any of their magic users are available to reverse it, and when Bruce turns back he just sits there, absorbing all of the memories. How he was tucked gently into laps, held kindly, touched like they cared, and how the whole time he was scared that Alfred would come, souring every sweet moment.

He thinks about that fear, and the anxious cramping in his gut at the idea of going back to the manor.

J'onn watches him, a hand held up to keep the others quiet. Bruce knows he knows, and knows he won't do anything until Bruce says it.

"I think I'm ready."

But that his family doesn't know about it until Bruce is under a spell. And all of a sudden, all the "non-normal" things he does have more logic

But plot twist the kids don't tell him they know. But they start watching him more closely. and they come to the conclusion that he is not only autistic but also depressed

How did they find that out, you ask?

They follow him

And at the beginning, everyone is angry with him, because why didn't he tell them, dose he not trust them. but slowly they realize that they are the reason why he tells them nothing. because they start shouting and arguing that he wants all the attention and that they have problems too.

and at the end they tell him everything and apologize and start making up

Is this logical? I hope so because I am using a translator for this. If you don't understand me, you can just ignore me.

p.s. I really like the way you write

Damian twists his hands together. "I do not understand why we didn't notice. In hindsight, it is obvious."

At the very least he should have noticed, but he didn't. His peculiaritues had to come from somewhere, yet he never considered Father. He, alongside all the others, just dismissed his as too much, awkward, inconvenient, and did not understand.

Not until he was stripped of it.

"I shall cure you!" The wizard had proclaimed, pointing his staff at Batman. Damian had not understood, when he saw that all of Father's scars remained, as they changed in the Cave that evening, and had assumed that the man was simply a poor magician.

But no.

It quickly became apparent that was not the case. Father did not act like Father, the next day. All of his oddities were absent, and Damian had not realised his fondness for them until they were gone. He was plain-spoken, he did not struggle with his words anywhere near as much. He did not rock on his heels, or drum his fingers on any available surface. Affection came easily, and was received even more so. Pennyworth served portobello mushrooms as a side and Father did not hesitate before adding them to his plate.

It was strange.

Damian knew he was not the only one who noticed, but no one voiced anything. Nothing beyond silent looks, raised eyebrows, quirked lips where Father could not see.

Then Zatanna portalled into the living room, heels digging into the chessboard, knocking pieces aside, much to Timothy's irritation, and points her wand at Father's face.

"Odnu!"

Then she's leaping off the table, reaching out to grab him, and reality warps around them as they disappear from the room.

"What the fuck?" Richard had yelled.

Damian shared a look with Duke, while the others loudly speculated what had just happened, and when the other boy signalled, they left the room quietly, obscured by his powers. Being the only two to still reside in the manor with any regularity, they are privy to certain bits of information the others aren't.

Namely, the room Father is prone to hosting the witch in. And sure enough, their approach bore fruit, but to no elation, not when the indicator of his presence is the sound of his tears.

And it is there, listening through the door, that Damian discovers the truth.

Duke pulls him away a moment lqter, swearing him to secrecy, something broken in his imploring gaze, and Damian agreed.

It did not stop the others from finding out.

Not when Father resumed all of his previous behaviours, head bowed under the weight of shame.

All of which made so much sense, now.

Damian saw the realisation dawn on his family and bit his tongue, not saying anything himself. What could he say?

Richard was the one to find the words. When he figured it out, and Damian found him pummeling training dummies in the cave, roaring his anger to an audience of none.

"Cure? Cure?! There is nothing to be cured of! It is—"

And Damian saw there, on the catwalk above the sea of smooth stone, watching his brother deny reality, the truth.

It was something to be cured of.

They framed it that way.

They rejected it. Him.

It may not be something to be cured of, but they told him again and again that it was.

Now they must find a way to fix it.

"I am sorry. We will be better now."

Father cannot hear him, but as Damian stands over his sleeping form, he finds it enough. He has said it now. He will enact it, now.