#[opens my google doc]

[hazbin-rewritten-666]

😜

[zeldamacgregor]

I made this to call myself out but please feel free to hold up a mirror if you need one also.

[yeyinde]

posted on twitter originally. but. streetfighterGhost.

he probs does it to escape his home life. but got noticed by a coach at local gym when he was just eighteen. would've went pro easily, but Tommy's debts with a loan shark piled up, leaving him no choice but to fight in an illegal ring. unfortunately, there's no escape when the boss thinks you're worth serious money. and the Ghost brings in a lot.

his only break comes from enlisting. a terrible decision because Tommy's debt soon come with a life sentence when he takes his anger out on the wrong man. to keep his brother out of jail, Simon agrees to fight again, getting roped into it full time. for keeps, this time.

another life of broken bones, bloody knuckles. staged fights. slowly chipping away at a debt that doesn't belong to him. mundane, really. but Simon would be a liar if he said he didn't get a sick thrill from fighting this dirty. no holds barred. anything goes. and he gives it his all.

goes and goes until he's sweaty, dazed. nose broken beyond repair. and leans over the rail to spit out blood, teeth. and happens to catch sight of the prettiest bird he's ever seen in the stands. his bird.

(well. you will be his once he's done with this fight, anyway.)

[buddie-buddie]

Bucktommy + “Go back to sleep.”

“Go back to sleep,” Tommy mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.

Buck finishes tugging Tommy’s duvet up, tucking it beneath his chin and curling in on himself in an attempt to warm up. He doesn’t care if it makes him a blanket thief; he’s cold. Plus, Tommy is practically a human space heater. He’s laying beside Buck in nothing but his boxer briefs and looks perfectly content. Meanwhile, Buck’s in sweatpants and a hoodie and can’t seem to shake the chill that’s climbing up his spine and taking up residence deep in his bones.

He mumbles a sleepy apology, but if the way Tommy’s breathing has already evened out again is any indication, he doesn’t hear it.

Waking up next to Tommy is all of Buck’s wildest dreams come true. He loves waking up with the familiar, grounding weight of Tommy’s arm draped over him, loves the way Tommy tightens his grip as he feels Buck stir beneath him, how he mumbles a sleepy “Morning, baby,” into his hair as Buck slowly blinks his eyes awake.

Every day he wakes up next to Tommy is a dream, but days off are the best.

Days off are when Buck wakes up warm and cozy in a sun-drenched room, tucked against Tommy, their bodies curled around each other like a pair of parentheses. The warm, familiar rumble of Tommy’s early morning voice low in his ear, the brush of his lips against the shell of his ear, chased away by the slight burn from Tommy’s day-old stubble against his skin as he trails kisses down his cheek, across his jaw. For a few quiet moments, it’s just them. There are no alarms ringing, no fires to put out, no helicopters to fly, no nothing. There’s nothing but them. Nothing to do except just be.

The thought of this particular day off– this particular morning– was the thing Buck was most looking forward to all week. And it had been an epically awful week. It had been six days since the last time their days off had last lined up, and he’d been all but crawling out of his skin with his need to see his boyfriend outside of a quick FaceTime call between claxons ringing.

On top of that, the station’s A/C had been on the fritz and Chimney had been out sick with a flu he still insisted he didn’t have, both of which made shifts considerably less enjoyable. They’d had a few really tough calls, including an especially hard loss in the middle of the week that was still living behind Buck’s ribs and needling at his heart each time the air fell silent and his mind began to wander.

Their shared 48 off had been the light at the end of the tunnel. A very dark tunnel that was starting to feel less like a tunnel and more like an inescapable hole towards the end, but a tunnel nonetheless.

“Hot date?” Hen had teased him as he all but ran for the locker room the moment B shift started filtering in through the bay doors.

Buck thought about what was waiting for him. His sweet, beautiful boyfriend. His favorite pad thai takeout from the mom and pop place around the corner from Harbor. Sheets that smell like Tommy and a pair of reading glasses on the nightstand and two toothbrushes next to each other in the cup beside the sink.

“Yeah,” Buck grinned, dipping his chin as his cheeks flushed. “You could say that.”

The feeling of waking up beside Tommy is everything Buck always wanted and never let himself believe he could actually have. It’s better than anything he ever could’ve dreamed up. Even now, when he wakes up and it’s still pitch black outside, the only light in the room coming from the glow of Buck’s phone on the nightstand as he taps it awake to check the time. It’s not even four o’clock.

No wonder Tommy told him to go back to sleep.

They’ve barely been asleep for five hours, and after the week he’s had, Buck would like at least twice that before even considering getting out of bed. But he’s up now and he’s freezing. He flips over beneath Tommy’s arm, turning to face him and curling himself into Tommy’s side with a small, content sigh. He tucks his head beneath Tommy’s chin in a shameless attempt to leech his body heat.

Tommy murmurs something indecipherable in his sleep, one of his big, warm hands coming up to rest between Buck’s shoulder blades. His welcome touch is warm and familiar, instantly soothing. And yet, it does nothing to stop another shiver from running through Buck.

He closes his eyes, starting to drift back to sleep just as Tommy shifts beneath him.

“Evan,” Tommy says quietly, concern clinging to the word. “Baby, wake up.”

Buck blinks slowly, confused. “Y’just told me to go back to sleep.”

“You’re burning up,” Tommy says, his other hand coming up to feel Buck’s forehead. He makes a tsk sound under his breath. He tries to sit up, but Buck protests by way of a sleepy whine, holding onto Tommy even tighter.

“M’cold,” Buck mumbles against Tommy’s chest.

“C’mon,” Tommy says gently. “Let me up. I’ll be right back. I promise.”

Buck is too tired to argue. Tommy extricates himself, and Buck can tell he tries his best not to disturb him too much as he does. True to his word, Tommy returns a moment later. He runs the thermometer over Buck’s forehead, and its rapid warning beeps are followed by a small displeased sigh.

“Fever?” Buck asks. Another shiver wracks through him, and he knows the answer.

Tommy’s hand is warm and solid as it rests on his cheek, his thumb stroking over Buck’s cheekbone in a soothing back and forth. “Yeah,” Tommy says. Buck can hear his frown. “Gonna give you some Tylenol.”

Buck lets Tommy help him sit up enough to bring the pills and a glass of water to his lips. He’s a little more awake now, enough to register the way that his head feels heavy and his eyes feel hot behind their lids. His arms and legs ache as he settles against the pillows, and he has a fleeting memory of Maddie saying that Chim’s flu started out with a high fever and body aches.

“Be right back,” Tommy promises.

And he is. He returns a moment later with another blanket, a heavy one. He covers Buck with it, tucking it beneath his chin and running a hand through his hair fondly before climbing back into bed beside him.

“No,” Buck protests. “I’ll get you sick.”

Tommy’s arms encircle him, pulling him in until they’re pressed up against each other. “Don’t care,” he says simply. “We’ve already been pretty close.”

Buck sighs against Tommy’s neck, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he remembers the very enthusiastic reacquainting that happened against the back of Tommy’s front door no more than a minute after Buck had come through it. Not to mention the hours they spent on the couch watching a movie after dinner, with Tommy’s arm around him and Buck’s head on Tommy’s shoulder. All of which was before they fell asleep practically plastered to one another.

Tommy does have a point.

But Buck felt fine going to bed, which means the fever must have spiked pretty recently, which means it could be early enough that Tommy could still save himself and—

“I can hear you overthinking.”

Buck frowns. “Am not.” And then a moment later, “I’ll go to the guest room.”

“No you won’t,” Tommy says simply. “There’s no blanket on the bed.”

“But you—”

Tommy silences him with a kiss to his forehead. “I am exactly where I want to be.”

Buck’s heart squeezes. A tiny, happy sigh falls from his lips. And for the first time since waking up, he feels warm all over.

prompt game

[astrobei]

in my heart of hearts mike wheeler is absolutely an athena kid but i also have to offer up a concept that i think has extreme comedic and dramatic potential aka: repressed gay teenager mike showing up at camp half blood unsure of who his godly parent is and feeling insecure about not having powers and one day when he’s making not-so-secret heart eyes at his best friend and son of apollo will byers is when a bunch of glowing floating hearts show up above his head. and that’s how mike gets claimed by none other than aphrodite, the goddess of love and sexuality, and is in full denial about it for three days because he thinks it’s some kind of sick and twisted JOKE

(on aphrodite’s end, she’s upset mike is throwing away the gift of true love and keeps trying to trick him out of repression by making more and more improbable and hilarious gifts appear when he and will are hanging out. mike hands will a book and it turns into a box of chocolates and he has to fling it away like a frisbee before will sees it. they’re having lunch and romantic music starts playing. she gives mike the same blessing she used to claim piper and will can’t even look in his direction for a full day because he starts blushing so hard. fifty bouquets of flowers show up at the apollo cabin’s doorstep with a note that says love, mike and by the end of it, mike isn’t even repressed and unsure about his sexuality anymore — he’s just trying to not throw himself into the bonfire out of sheer embarrassment)

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #58 Part 4

The living room and kitchen were deserted, neither Danny nor Jazz expected anyone as it was normal for their parents to essentially live in the basement only coming up for meals once or twice a month to ‘eat as a family’, these would consist mostly of fast food as no one trusted anything cooked in their kitchen.

They shared a glance as they opened the basement door and headed down. The dimly lit basement held the giant hole in the wall, the so-called portal, a massive metal spectacle with wires and interconnected circuitry met together to create an unholy abomination of science. Or at least that’s what Jazz called it once when they were in her room venting about the situation. 

“JAZZ!! DANNY!!” their overzealous father yelled as he bounded over.

Their mom walked over too, seeming to be happy for their return, “your father and I could barely contain our excitement all day!! Go on put on your hazmat suits.” their mom gestured over to the lockers that held the suits. Both of their parents' lockers tended to be quite empty since they practically lived in them, to the point where they had several copies of the same suits that they’d wash and reuse. Danny and Jazz only had the ones, Jazz had a nice dark violet color with black gloves and boots. Danny had black gloves and boots too but his was white to make it look like he was an astronaut, something that he had mixed feelings on. Both of these used to have a giant picture of Jack’s head on it but it was quickly removed by both siblings. 

They quickly put the suits on over their uniforms and joined their parents behind some glass near the portal. It wasn’t closed off or anything and Danny didn’t think it would be able to prevent something like an explosion from charing all of them but it’s hard to have faith in parents who've missed so much because of the stupid portal, or at least that’s how Danny felt. 

Jazz and Danny huddled together behind their parents as their mom did some final checks on a clipboard, “alrighty we should be all good, Hun you ready to throw the switch?” their mom asked their dad. “As ready as I’ll ever be!” Jack yelled as he threw down the switch.

…

A few sparks erupted from the portal but other than that nothing happened. 

Their dad, frustrated at this angrily tried turning it off and on again but nothing but another smaller spark and then truly nothing. 

Another low frustrated growl left their dad as he and mom walked back up the steps, “alright I’m taking a break.” Jack said, almost defeated, sounding, “I’m sorry but I really thought we had it this time.”

“Oh come on, Jack, let’s go out, I’m sure the kids were probably going over to the Wayne’s again anyways. Let’s go out and have a fun night then sleep on it.” their mom said, patting dad on the shoulder. They shared a fond look and then went upstairs probably to get ready. 

Danny and Jazz stood at the bottom of the stairs and shared a look.

“They gave up too fast again…” Jazz noted.

“I guess, what do we do now?” Danny asked.

“I’m still a little curious about the portal but I don’t want to keep Damian, Tim or Alfred waiting,” Jazz said with a hand on her cheek.

“We could invite them in, I know we haven’t before but maybe Tim would know how to get it working, he is pretty good with technology.” Danny reasoned. Neither of them really wanted to involve the Wayne’s in their family’s shenanigans but at this point they were all friends and Damian and Tim were bound to find out how weird their family was at some point anyways.

Jazz stood there seeming to think things over before she nodded, “alright I trust your judgment but we’ll have to be careful okay?” 

Danny smiled at her, “of course, what’s the worst that could happen?” 

This is what led to the four of them standing at the bottom of the stairs. Their parents had left about an hour ago. Danny and Jazz were still in their suits with Tim without one and made to sit with Jazz behind the glass and Damian and Danny planning to explore the actual tube.

“I don’t want to chance you getting hurt,” he said to her as he made her stand next to Tim.

Damian and Danny shared a look and nodded before heading into the tube. 

They looked around for a while but didn’t see much besides the interconnected wires on the floor of the lab. Damian took the right side while Danny took the left. They worked their way up and down the tube. Damian was a little ahead of Danny on their way out. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary.

When they were almost out Danny lost his footing, his hand flying out in front of him. A soft click was heard and time seemed to crawl to a stand still.

Danny couldn’t stand the thought of his friend getting hurt because of him and he felt a rush of adrenaline. He ran as he felt a swirl of energy and electricity surround his body. 

“DANNY!! DAMIAN!!” he heard both Tim and Jazz shout as he reached Damian who was at the mouth of the portal.

A quick shove was all it took to get Damian, who had turned towards him at the sound of the shout, out of the portal. 

“DANIEL!!” he heard Damian shout as the portal activated on top of him, surrounding his body with swirling green.

Blinding pain shot through Danny, feeling as if he was being torn apart and put back together again and again.

He figured he was dying but at least he could protect those he cared about. He was able to shove Damian out of the portal in time, and Tim and Jazz were safely behind the blast glass.

He wouldn’t ever be able to fly among the stars as an astronaut but he was able to protect. His family and friends were safe and that’s all that mattered. 

He could allow himself to succumb to the darkness as the electricity and pain consumed him whole.

[lanafofana]

Do you think Halsin gets a crick in his neck from always having to look down at his new cohort of companions?

Do you think he'd appreciate some dexterous fingers gliding over taunt muscles, working the tension loose?

Do you think he'd be very warm, almost too hot, where he wedges himself between your legs while you get to work?

Do you think as the thick cords of muscle begin to relax he'd close his eyes, entranced by the feeling of your hands kneading his body?

Do you think his head would drift back in bliss?

Do you think when your nails scratch at the hair at the base of his scalp he'd shiver?

Do you think he'd sigh with relief? Or maybe a quiet groan that rumbles up through his chest to where your hands roam his skin?

Do you th-

[honeyspeeches]

illustrated scene of the epilogue of my fic None Walk The Earth.

After having worked on this fic for a better part of 4 years, I thought ending it by just posting the epilogue on Ao3 was a bit anti-climactic so I decided to do a little companion piece by illustrating one of my favorite scenes from the epilogue too. thank you to everyone who read it along the way, or even if you read it because of this post, this fic means a lot to me and I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I did writing it <33

[xxplastic-cubexx]

eternally grateful that no matter the verse within cherik either one of them will always have long lushish hair the other can lovingly comb through

[justaz]

i wish i was a good artist. i would draw merlin so androgynous. in a dress. long hair. mmmmmm. kiss boys. arthur. kiss arthur. sigh

[reluctanttrabbit]

fnaf movie 2 save me.......toy animatronics save me..... jeremiah save me....... gregory save me......

[yueebby]

hiiiii, i love your writing so i’m offering you my gojo thoughts!!!!

lovesick!gojo who takes every opportunity to turn his body to the side in class to face you. a lesson ends? the screech of his chair against the floor and an immediate call of your name.

lovesick!gojo who basically hangs off of your every word as you read off the class assignment, trying to burn the image of you onto his retinas so he can remember this forever. when you finish and ask if he got all that, he asks for it to be repeated

lovesick!gojo who watches you put on lip tint/lip balm, asking you for the brand, only for him to obtain the same brand and colour in a few hours, just so that he can ‘practice’ for the future.

when i saw this in my inbox i squealed tehe i love your writing so much ><

but YES i totally agree that lovesick!gojo would be an absolute menace in class. i just know shoko and suguru have made a bet with you that they will stop smoking on the condition that satoru stops initiating inappropriate conduct every time you are in the same room. from conniving tricks like trying to initiate an indirect kiss by offering you the rest of his soda to shamelessly checking your sweaty form out while you spar with one of yaga’s cursed dolls, satoru seems to never stop. it’s safe to assume that their lungs will be reduced to ashes before that day comes.

[nikoisme]

Personally I imagine that Telemachus has his mom's hair color and eyes,, but he still creepily looks like Odysseus. So, naturally, I have to ask:

Do you think that Penelope sometimes flinced when she saw her son? Because he looks so much like her husband?? Like, he would pass down the hallway and greet his mother, and she would think it's Odysseus - a flicker of hope on her face, only to realize it's her son. And after a while Telemachus doesn't know if that brief drop of her face is disappointment because it's him or because it's not Odysseus.

Do you think Eurycleia sometimes openly cried when she looked at Telemachus?? Because he has the same slightly impish grin just like his father?? Just like the boy she raised so many years ago?? Do you think she unconciously scrubbed more thoroughly around his thigh? Telemachus would wince at the sudden roughness and Eurycleia would realize that he doesn't have that scar that needed more cleaning to make sure debris didn't get stuck in it??

Do you think that Eumaeus would rush out of his hut when he heard Telemachus laugh? Because, as he got older, even his voice started sounding a bit like his father's?? Only to abruptly stop when he realized that it's not his master??

Do you think that even Telemachus would stare at a bronze mirror or at his reflection in a puddle and try to see his father - the one he barely remembers - in his own reflection?? He would imagine himself broader, stronger, with a beard?? His mother told him that he got his hair and eyes from her. So he tries to imagine something else in their place. He doesn't know what he's even looking for or thinking about. Just something, anything to get a bare idea of a man that is his father.

And do you think that as years went on, others started seeing more and more Odysseus in him and less and less Telemachus in him? Even if it wasn't intentional? They treated him like his father. They would offer him the fruit his father loved. They would sometimes expect him to wield the weapons his father could. They would tell him how much he looks like his father. And Telemachus would simply smile in response. But over time it was a slightly pained smile. At first he prided himself for all of that, he wanted to know everything about his father. He wanted to know how much of his son he is. But he finds the fruit sour. His arms slightly tremble when he tries to string a bow (not necessarily The bow™).

Do you think that over time, even he started feeling less and less like himself? Do you think that subconciously he tried acting like his father (based on the stories he's heard)? For the kingdom's sake, for his mother's sake, for his own sake? After all, "son of Odysseus" was his main trait. He was haunted by the ghost of the man he doesn't even know. But he does know him, doesn't he? Everyone tells him just how much he is like his father. But what part of him is like his father?? What part of him is like his father? Everything he does, everything he is, is apparently an echo of his father. But what part is Telemachus? What part of Telemachus is like his father? Is he like his father or is he slowly becoming his father? His voice isn't his own. His skin isn't his own. Hell, the blood in his veins isn't his own. It's the blood of Odysseus. Is that who he is?? A replacement for the king?? A mere stand-in until he comes back?? If he comes back?? Will he always have to act, to be a copy of his father?? Will he ever be himself? But who is he even? Who is Telemachus? Yes, he is the son of Odysseus (as a way of identification). But who is simply Telemachus?

DO YOU THINK?

[hiranospiercing]

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Late Night Talking

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[ev-writes-things]

i beg your finest pardon