#The angst is coming...

[pinkytoothlesso11]

Heart of Stone chapter 27

With Jim, Douxie and Claire back from the past, and Stricklander outed to Gunmar as a traitor and spy, the battle ahead looms closer than ever.

Nari comes with bad news. The Arcane Order have arrived. And Skrael wishes to meet. Only for the meeting in question to end in disaster...

We're approaching the end now! Only five chapters left!

[goldfishinaplasticbag]

selfishly, just once.

[bebx]

canon means nothing when I can shelter my blorbo and keep him alive through the power of archive of our own

[toboldlymuppet]

✨ You have reached the goal [Postmortal] ✨

my piece for @trafficzine 's wild life/6th edition! oh impulse, impulse, better luck next time...

[entityoffline]

your undertale spamtenna au spamton is the ugliest little thing i have ever seen i feel deeply maternal towards him. hes the cutest fuck in the entire world i hate him so much can you wrap him up in a blanket and give him a hot chocolate or something whatever he wants please and thank you

sorry he's a little feisty .... but i guess "whatever he wants" turns out to be something a little out of left field?

[twisting-in-wonderland]

'Yuu!'

[satoblue]

“A FOOL” — gojo satoru

prank gone… right? | wc: 0.8k

f!reader, established relationship (you are dating), a little angsty but there’s a happy ending i swear, satoru needs to find better jokes, may or may not be your not so typical proposal, he has the worst comedic timing (or timing in general) | dividers made by me

“i think we should break up.”

you turn your head to face him so fast that satoru could almost feel the whiplash you got from the action himself.

“what?”, you ask, genuine confusion written over your features.

he has to stifle a laugh.

this was always the fun part — the confusion. and little did you know what he had up his sleeve. he’s never made a joke to this extent before, but knowing what he has planned, he’s sure you’d have mercy on him this time.

folding his arms over his chest, he leans back on the couch. satoru shuts his eyes, tilting his head with a smirk. “you heard me. i think we should stop dating.”

this is the part where he should’ve stopped right away, noting how quiet it is — too quiet for comfort. as if the warmth within you was snuffed out.

when you speak up with a low “why..?”, so soft like a mouse that satoru could not pick up on the shakiness of your breath, he turns to you, leaning in with a close eyed smile.

“because… we should get married! april fools!”

his voice echoes throughout the room until it falls into dead silence. lips stuck in a grin, he waits for a reaction.

. . . nothing. eh?

when his eyes flutter open, it doesn’t take long for his smile to falter.

there you were, sitting in front of him with a frown, brows knit together and glassy eyed, a tear about to shed any second and run down your cheek.

not on his watch.

“oh, baby. no no no, d-don’t cry! it was just a prank.”

“that’s not funny…”, you sniffle, rubbing at your face and sockets with your fists to fight the onslaught of tears.

his eyes soften, lips downturned, the amusement of the situation gone. he forgets about the somewhat proposal entirely, only focused on you and your disheartened eyes as you cry.

“i know… and please don’t rub your face like that.” he whispers, as if to afraid to speak higher lest you shatter like delicate glass. “you’ll hurt yourself, my love.”

gently pulling your hands away by your wrists, both of his go to cup your wet cheeks, his touch warm and comforting as he wipes away the result of his foolishness.

how could he fix this? he almost broke your heart entirely, even though a small part of him is delighted at how much love you hold for him that you’d have a reaction like this instantaneously — now is not the time to gloat.

“i am a fool…”

“you are.” you pout up at him.

the clenching of his heart releases at the sight of you acting so cute, and he feels something inside his chest flutter. with a small smile, he apologizes.

“i’m sorry...”

he is a fool. a complete and utter fool — your fool. and you were stuck with him and his stupid pranks for infinity because it is ridiculous to think he’d ever leave you. never has the thought crossed his mind — and you weren’t allowed to walk out on him either. like he said, it will always be him in your life.

the both of you sit like that for a few more seconds, staring into each other’s eyes, enjoying the shared company and fleeting touches as satoru tucks your hair behind you ears after the tense moment.

“can i just say something..?”, you speak up.

with furrowed brows, he gives a concerned nod. “yes, of course.”

you grin, the picture perfect definition of the devil incarnate.

“april fools, satoru...”, and your boyfriend feels shivers run down his spine.

silence.

and then another beat of silence.

it takes a while to register in his head. but then, with a hand over his heart, a sound rings out from his mouth, a squawk — one of absolute betrayal and disbelief.

he stares down at your evil smirk with wide, blue eyes as you clean off the residual salty tears with the back of your hand.

the tables have turned, and you have bested him at his own game. but he expects nothing less from the (maybe — if you are not mad at him) future mrs. gojo.

extra:

“you’re so cruel! what happened to my sweet and innocent angel?”

“what can i say? i was tired of being pranked all the time that i turned evil.”

satoru pouts.

“i hope this is a lesson learned to not mess with your queen, joker.”

he sighs, “yeah, you’re right.”

“i know.” you huff proudly. “also, baby, april fools day isn’t today — it was yesterday.”

“…”

“might want to buy a calendar before a ring so you don’t mix up our wedding date too.”

he blinks, suddenly remembering his semi-proposal. “wait, so is that a yes?!”

p.s. — last minute, you thought to say april fools to make it seem like you had the upper hand the whole time because there is no way you’ll ever let satoru know you genuinely cried over this. oh, to be gullible… but now, satoru will never mess with the true master of him, his home, and this day ever again. you won.

[sakuravalenp]

That’s not your medicine? - DC X DP prompt

Another idea I can't work on because time isn't on my favor, so I'm just begging someone else to write it TwT.

Slightly inspired by this post.

Years have passed by, and the ecto-acts were never repelled. Time has gone by, and Danny’s Jason's husband. Jason, friends and the family have noticed that Danny isn’t human but don’t bring it up because Danny seems terrified every time the subject seems to be about to be brought up (Yes, even Bruce wasn't able to question Danny. How would he? He tried to bring it up once and he was sure Danny was going to faint right then and there). 

Danny has some health issues. Fatigueness, muscle pain, random dizziness, fevers that seem to come out of nowhere. Apparently it is a chronic issue, since Jason caught Danny taking some red pills early in their marriage. Jason didn’t recognize the medicine's name, something Blossom, so he imagined it was something specific to his species. 

The married couple had been living happily for years and the family adores Danny.

One day a ghost faces into his house asking Danny for help, and of course Danny basically has a full on panic attack at being outed. Jason holds him close, grounds him and lets him calm down.

The ghost tells Danny that they need to do some errands in the human world, but the GIW has become way more active around the area he needs to visit, and needs to know how Danny has managed to hide so far. The conversation goes somewhat like this:

“I’m sorry, I don’t think you would want to do what I do. Even if you do, I’m not sure you can.”

“Please just tell me, I’ll decide if I want it by myself.”

Danny sights. He disappears for a moment in their bedroom and comes back with his medicine. He opens the bottle and inclines it to let the ghost see.

“I take this.”

The ghost looks into the bottle and is absolutely horrorized.

“Danny, you- you’re poisoning your core!”

“I know…”

“What do you mean poison?” Jason asks, alarmed “Isn’t this your medicine?”

Danny won’t meet his face. 

“How can you be consuming this!? How long-”

“I don’t have any other options, okay!? I can’t run into the infinite realms and hide like the rest of you! I have to reside on this side of the veil!” Danny snaps at the ghost.

“But this… you must be in excruciating pain.”

[nothing-impt]

My hand slipped :')

[dimeadozencows]

i dont actually think he was the one that caused the divorce lol

[willthespy]

rip bianca you would have loved hunger games - and rip nico you would have loved dnd

they won nico’s cat hairclip and bianca’s pin (on her shirt) at the lotus casino if you even care

[outer-andromeda]

Eyyy Doey expressions !! Wanted to finish that before bed :')))

Also small sneak-peak at a piece I've been working on right under the cut. :)))

... Let's just say I can't help but associate Doey with "Home" by Cavetown and "Fourth of July" by Sufjan Stevens now. Oopsie.

[jaesblogstuff]

He saw all of it, all of it.

Minding his business isn't his forte, especially when it comes to you.

Its subconscious. You don’t even realize you’re quieter lately. But Simon does. You’re still you. You laugh at the dumb TV shows he pretends not to enjoy, you hum in the kitchen when you cook, and you toss the occasional pillow at him when he makes a dry joke at your expense. But there’s something off. Something in your smile. It doesn’t meet your eyes. The new obsession with oversized clothing. You keep making excuses for why you can’t stay long. Why he shouldn’t come by. You’re tired. You have work. He might come over. And Simon, he never pushes. Never asks.

Not until he sees it.

You were making tea. The sleeves of your hoodie pushed up as you reached for the honey. And that’s when he sees the bruising just below your wrist and some of your arm. It doesn’t look like an accident. You don’t even know it’s showing. You’re chatting about nothing. Your voice soft, almost too light, and Simon stares like he’s seen a body on the floor.

He says nothing.

But something changes in the way he sets the mug down. A little too firm. A little too sharp. You blink at him. “You okay?” He gives you a look. Neutral. unreadable. “Forgot something in the truck,” he mutters.

And then he’s gone.

⸻

It wasn’t planned. Simon didn’t come looking for a fight, he just came to see the face of the man who left bruises on you. But the moment he opens the door and sees him—smirking, alive, untouched—it’s causes something to flip in him.

The guy barely has time to register who Simon is before Simon grabs the front of his shirt and slams him into the wall hard enough to rattle the picture frames.

“What the—fuck—?”

“You hit her?” Simon’s voice is a growl, low and cold. The guy tries to push him off. “Get off me, man, what the hell—”

Simon doesn’t give him the chance.

His fist connects with his jaw. Once. Twice. A sickening crack of bone and cartilage. The guy stumbles, dazed, hands flying up too late.

“You think you’re tough?” Simon hisses, grabbing him again, slamming him down onto the floor this time. “You like putting your hands on her?”

“I—I didn’t—”

“Don’t lie.”

Another hit. This one more restrained, but just as mean. A punch to the ribs. The guy wheezes, crumples, coughing. “Touch her again, I dare you,” Simon growls, crouched over him, eyes blazing. “Don’t look at her again. If you do—” He leans in closer, a snarl in his voice, dripping with threat.

“I’ll make sure you never lay hands on anyone again.”

Blood trickles from the guy’s nose, his lip split and leaking onto the hardwood. Simon stands, breathing hard. He doesn’t look back as he leaves. His knuckles throb. His chest feels too tight. But his hands don’t shake. Not until he’s back in his truck—on the way back to you.

⸻

He doesn’t come back for hours. You try to brush it off. You clean the mugs, fold the blanket on the couch, check your phone twice. But something’s crawling under your skin, cold and tight. The front door finally opens after midnight. He walks in quiet, dripping from the rain, hoodie up, hands shoved in the pocket like he’s holding something back.

Your heart jumps. “Simon?” You rise, wrapping your cardigan tighter around you. “Where the hell did you go?”

He doesn’t answer.

Not at first. Just kicks off his boots like he does every time, like this is any other night. But it’s not. His knuckles are bloodied. Split. And his jaw’s cut, a faint smear of red along his cheek. You follow him into the kitchen. The sink runs. Hot water turns to steam. He scrubs at his hands like he’s trying to erase something.

“Simon,” you say again. “What did you just go to do?”

He doesn’t look at you. Just stares at the water swirling down the drain. Then, quiet, almost broken:

“How long.”

You freeze. “What?”

He turns, finally. Looks at you with something like grief behind his eyes. “How long was he hurting you?”

Your breath leaves in one sharp exhale. Your first instinct is to lie. Deny. Laugh it off. But his expression doesn’t shift. He already knows.

“I—I didn’t…” you swallow. “It wasn’t like that.” He scoffs. Soft. Almost sad. “Don’t lie to me. You’re not that good at it.” You look away. Your throat burns.

The silence stretches between you, thick as blood. “Did you hurt him?” you ask.

His jaw tightens. He rinses his hands again. “I made sure he won’t touch anything for a long time.”

You flinch.

He notices.

His voice softens. “I’m sorry.” Then he steps back. Like he’s the one who’s done wrong. Like you should be afraid of him.

“Simon…” You reach for him.

He stops you. Not cruel, just tired. “I need to clean up.”

You’re left standing in the kitchen, hands curled around the edge of the counter, breath shaking. He’s always been there. Always protected you. Always loved you quietly, in the ways no one else noticed.

Now the quiet is deafening.

[tending-the-hearth]

i think my favorite type of relationship trope is "stopped believing in love a long time ago" and "genuinely doesn't think they're worthy of love" falling for each other in the MOST romantic way possible

[galoogamelady]

Guess who just won a Hounskull at the Tournament

[ihavesomejays]

hold on