#I think I could probably write it lmao

[jeiyuuen]

So Luffy and Law reunion after two years, some totally biased thoughts...

Luffy really just recognized Law right away like that, huh? After two years of not meeting at all, and barely having interacted prior to Marineford. What was the first thing he recognized that he was sure that's the guy who saved him then? (Is there something you would like to share with the class, Luffy?)

It's so funny because nothing could've prepared Law for Luffy's sheer joy when they met again. He was so genuinely happy to find Law and it's ruining Law's emo vibes.

Like damn, he built up a reputation!

Pretty much everyone else up to that point has called him cruel, ruthless and all that. Back to Marineford and Sabaody, people talked about bad rumors about him. Even when he saved Luffy, they doubted his intentions. They were so sure there must be a catch to Law's help. (There was no catch.) It's just fun to think about because here Luffy is treating him as something good that happened in his life. Poor Law couldn't handle that much positive attention.

And uhm no, trying to deflect saving someone's life from death as "nothing" or something like that wouldn't really work. Especially when Law really didn't need to risk it all like that to get Luffy out of Marineford. They barely had a connection and even a potential rivalry is hardly worth the risk. Calling it a "whim" is the most Law can call it before he starts questioning his life again. But whatever the reason is, the fact still stands that he helped Luffy... And isn't that what matters, anyways? To Luffy, at least.

Law: "We are both pirates." (we're enemies)

Luffy: ":D Okay, anyways, you saved my life."

Law !!!! He ADORES you already !! It's over !! And giving more helping hand doesn't actually help your case !!

Also more exhibits of Luffy being excited over Law that I just find so cute. The way he perked up when Law was mentioned... He likes him.

He didn't say anything during Brownbeard's story until Law was mentioned, Luffy my guy.... He likes him so much, not necessarily romantic, but Luffy really just likes Law.

Law really stood no chance and asking Luffy for that alliance was the final nail to his coffin. He sealed his fate to be Luffy's super duper mega best friend FOR LIFE.

[toypretend]

aged up designs that i made a bit ago :))

[magnusbae]

If you're interested, here's a prompt from the ones who just shared:

"Then why did you do it?" "BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!"

No rush hehe I hope you get rest and have fun writing this!

Now, see, I could have taken this as an open prompt and went with something else, but I know you like dreamling and so I was good.

Thanks for the prompt dear! 💖 Also special thanks goes to @cuubism for actually going through it 🌻🌻🌻 any mistakes are me ignoring her wisdom or straight up forgetting to edit it. one of the two.

Dreamling - some flavor of hurt/comfort(?) 'you dare?' kind of situation going on there, 1,394w

▾▾▾

“I cannot fathom why—” 

Dream halts mid-sentence, his outrage rendering him speechless for a precious moment in which Hob tries, fruitlessly, to come up with a way to placate him, to explain in a way that will somehow pass as acceptable to Dream. The betrayal is tangible in the air, so charged that Hob’s hair actually stands on end as if from static. It feels like standing at your front door, still safe but seeing the hurricane on the horizon, knowing that this false safety can and will change in moments. Hob cannot think of a single thing. 

“You.” Dream grits his teeth so tightly that they scrape loudly, the sound of it making Hob’s own teeth ache uncomfortably. “Know.” Dream says each word as if it takes a great burden to even use human speech and not simply burn a hole in Hob’s mind. Given Dream’s past record, which Hob had recently learnt of, perhaps it does. “You know I do not ask.”

“I know.” Hob winces.

There’s no denying that he knew. Knew full well that asking Dream’s sibling for help was a guaranteed way to not only outrage him, but also land Hob a very creative punishment and the end of their long friendship.

He knew that, and did it anyway. 

Would again, if he had to.

He will not apologize for that.

Dream seems to come to the same conclusion, cheeks reddening in a surprising display of humanity, of lack of control over his appearance. The darkness that creeps into his eyes is distinctly not human. Hob shudders but fixes his eyes on Dream’s, refusing to avert his eyes like a reprimanded youth. He did what he did, and he’s not sorry.

''Then.” To Hob’s surprise, Dream seems to level himself, to school the darkness out of his eyes and ask with a calm that is somehow more unnerving than his rage. “Why did you do it?" There is a finality to this question, like a judge asking for one last confession to tip the scale one way or another. There will be judgment at the end of it, Hob knows. 

“Because…” he sucks in a breath, there’s a ball of nerves in his stomach and frustration, surprising him with its intensity, it feels almost like anger.

Why is he here, searching for excuses for something he believes in wholeheartedly? He doesn’t want to learn firsthand of Dream’s notorious pettiness but he’s not here to play these sort of games. 

The outraged huff is stuck in his throat— he didn’t even realize he had raised his voice this much, not until the ring of it strains his ears. He is practically shouting. And he doesn’t care. 

 ''BECAUSE I LOVE YOU.''

There’s anger in it, frustration, a measure of desperation.

“I bloody love you more than I fear you, that’s why.” His own cheeks burn, itch, tingle with the indignation of it all. “Because I’m a besotted fool who would make a pact with the devil if I had to, if it meant helping you.” He gestures curtly at Dream, then spreads his arm in an exaggerated motion of question. “Why else? Seriously, why else?!” He stops at that, breathing harshly. This is not how he had imagined, not even close. Fuck it. And fuck Lucifer, too. And Dream’s all too pleased sibling, on top.

Through his outburst Hob had stopped paying attention to Dream’s face, only his eyes, latching onto them as if they were his anchor in this universe, the only constant thing, in life, in this.

When he finally looks, really looks, he realizes with a start that Dream’s cheeks are no longer red with anger, that his eyebrows are not as tightly knitted, that his pale lips form a small and lax ‘o’. 

His friend looks taken aback, pacified and…surprised.

Like he couldn’t fathom this being the reason for Hob’s supposed betrayal of trust. Like this was the last rationale he had expected to hear, like he, an Endless being of incomprehensible wisdom, is unable to conceive this simple truth. Like he’s at a loss now.

Like he’s a bloody idiot. Hob shakes his head in amazement, his own anger evaporating as quickly as it came. Yet again he wonders how it is possible to be all knowing and yet so blind, so oblivious to such a simple truth, one Hob didn’t even try too hard to hide, really.

“I know you didn’t want me to,” he softens his voice, speaking more quietly “but I really didn’t have a choice. If I could do this on my own, you know I would have, I’d do worse for you.” He smiles at Dream, he doesn’t even try to sound self-deprecating, it’s the honest truth. He would.

His hand drops by his side and he awaits then, for his judgment.

“You love, me?”

Hob doesn't know how to respond to such a simple question other than–

“I do.”

There’s nothing else to add to that, he said it all, he did it all, even Dream must understand this is no passing fancy. One does not risk their immortal soul for something insignificant. Especially not Hob. One does it when it means everything. And in this case, it did. Dream did. 

Dream seems to again, come to the same conclusion. 

He wilts, shoulders sagging. He looks both much older and much younger at the same time, like this knowledge has stricken him, hurt him.

“You shouldn’t” is all he says. 

“But I do.” Hob answers in return. 

“I see that.” Dream’s voice is a whisper carried by the breeze, gentle, endless, aching. He looks torn in that moment, the judge whose scales no longer measure in any understandable manner. He casts his gaze down. 

“Just let me,” Hob says. He did not come here demanding boons, nor love, only to help Dream. “Forgive my impudent human inclinations to save what I love, and let us continue as we were. Friends. “

“Friends…” Dream repeats after him, as if in disbelief.

Dream opens his mouth to say more—to accept or refuse, Hob doesn’t know—but in that exact moment Matthew half-crashes, half-lands on Dream’s shoulder, a flutter of black feathers and barely muffled curses.

“Boss! Oh for fuck’s sake— I mean cracker’s sake— I mean what the hell— I mean you’re fine—you’re actually okay, I was sure that this time you’re like legit—” he notices Hob then, and cawing loudly he curses again “You actually did it you son of a bitch— you really did!” His wings open excitedly, brushing against Dream’s face, covering it up.

“Matthew.” 

“Uh-” Matthew folds his wings immediately. 

Hob looks at Dream then, the moment is decidedly broken but he has to know if he’d see him again, he can’t just go on not knowing, it’ll drive him insane. “Dream—” he starts, but Dream speaks over him.

“We will discuss this—” Dream’s lips tighten, eyes flicking to Matthew and then back at Hob. “At a later time.” He concludes rather curtly, seemingly deciding that addressing exactly what they will be discussing is not something he wants his Raven to be privy to.

“Right…” Hob murmurs, not speaking further of the topic either. It’s one thing to break Dream’s boundaries over life and death, another entirely over his own impatience and need to know. Dream wanting to see him again at all is already a damn good sign, and Hob will take it, gladly.

“I’ll see you later then, Dream” He uses the name even while not being sure he is still permitted to, that he did not lose the privilege. Dream tilts his head but doesn’t object, instead he nods once and disappears in a swirl of golden sand.

“Show off…” Hob murmurs into the empty air, shaking his head in disbelief. There’s a good feeling in his gut, he should probably be worried but he has a feeling that things will work out, that it all will be just fine. He can’t explain it, but he has learnt to trust his gut over the years. After all, it once led him to believe that he would never die.

It was right then, and it’ll be right now too. He and Dream will figure it out and will be better for it. Just like the other time, just like always. 

[sourscratched]

the hand that feeds

[felifeltfrog]

I will never stop talking about how reading A Little Princess as an adult radically awakened a part of me that I thought was long dead; the unapologetic ability to play pretend and to romanticize the smallest things in my life.

It makes the most menial and boring everyday tasks into something worth doing, and frankly? It helps a lot with the executive dysfunction.

Cooking? I am a hobbit preparing a feast!

Cleaning the house? I live in a fairy cottage and I'm doing a huge spring cleaning!

Getting groceries? I am a villager getting ingredients for tonights dinner at the local marketplace!

There's always a scenario you can imagine to make things more interesting, less mundane. And thanks to rereading one of my childhood comfort books I have yet again discovered just how great the power of imagination really is, even for adults.

[chayannesegg]

im so glad empanada, even after a tough day, got to have that talk and hug with richas and then bagi where em got some lovely advice about dealing with grief from richas & talked about what went wrong during the day

but i can't help but contrast this with sunny. sunny who empanada still hasn't seen. sunny whose been alone for days. sunny whose talked with almost no one. sunny who doesn't know bad is dead. sunny whose pretending tubbo isn't dead. sunny who got no goodbye. sunny who got no long talks about grief. sunny who got no explanations. sunny who no one visited today. sunny whose birthday is tomorrow. sunny who no one will wake up for first tomorrow

[princess-of-purple-prose]

Fish, 7 (For your prompts! ❤️)

Hi, anon!! Thank you for the prompt, you were the very first one to send one in! 7 was, again, the wildcard, so I randomly generated a different number to land on Yue Qingyuan (from Scum Villain)! I have no choice but to dedicate this to @bytedykes, because I told her about this prompt and she said “yqy pet fish mental health speedrun” and we went, uh, a little insane about it. Enjoy some yuefang, folks!!!!

“Mu-xiong,” Yue Qingyuan says. “I’m sorry to bother you. Are you available?”

“Yue-xiong is never a bother,” Mu Qingfang says warmly. “And I am, actually, yes. Is everything okay, Yue-xiong?”

“I think I need help.” A bit dramatic, perhaps, and Yue Qingyuan hates to trouble Mu Qingfang on a rare day off, but Yue Qingyuan and impulse have never been the best combination, and he would appreciate a second opinion.

Mu Qingfang’s voice turns hard. “Where are you? I'll come right away.”

“What—?” Yue Qingyuan stares at his phone like the blank call screen will tell him why Mu Qingfang suddenly sounds so serious. “I'm at home, but—”

“I'll be right there,” Mu Qingfang says, and hangs up.

Yue Qingyuan stares at his phone for another second, then lifts his gaze to his sparkling new aquarium. His new betta, white and black and resplendent of fin, stares back. Was his crisis of faith about his viability as a fish owner really so deserving of such urgency…?

—

“So,” Mu Qingfang says. “This was your emergency?” He looks about as unimpressed by the betta as it does by the two of them.

Yue Qingyuan feels obscurely like he’s being scolded. Mu Qingfang is one of the nicest men he knows, but that just means that his censure takes the form of a blunt instrument of mass disappointment.

“In my defense,” he points out meekly, “I didn’t say there was an emergency. Mu-xiong just assumed.”

“That’ll teach me,” Mu Qingfang huffs, but at least he looks amused. “Yue-xiong should get used to asking for help more so this gege doesn’t have to panic every time he does ask.”

Yue Qingyuan’s mouth almost drops open. He can only hope his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “Er—well, I asked this time, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Mu Qingfang allows, looking something horribly close to fond. Yue Qingyuan swallows and tries to hurry on.

“So—not an emergency, but I do want your opinion,” he coughs out. “I’m having… doubts. About the fish.” Mu Qingfang’s eyebrows contract. Yue Qingyuan rushes it out. “Do you think I should keep it?”

“Yue-xiong…” Mu Qingfang looks politely incredulous. “Why does my opinion matter? The fish is already yours, isn’t it? If you don’t think maintaining its upkeep will be feasible, that’s one thing, but… Surely Yue-xiong did the research before getting it?”

He doesn’t sound judgemental, but Yue Qingyuan feels his cheeks warm. “I did, but I wasn’t planning on getting a fish; I was only admiring the tanks. There was a salesperson who was… very insistent.”

Mu Qingfang regards him doubtfully, which is fair. Yue Qingyuan towers over most people he meets, and his bulk only further adds to the impression of immovability. It’s only when he opens his mouth that it becomes clear how spineless he actually is.

Yue Qingyuan falters. “I had thought… I thought it might be nice.” The bettas had seemed so majestic in their tanks, iridiscent monarchs of false grass and plastic coves, and Yue Qingyuan had thought, wildly, that one might be rewarding to keep, might breathe a touch of life into his immaculately sleek living room. The whole affair hadn’t even been expensive by his shiny new standards, forget difficult to physically arrange. It was only when installation and set-up for his new aquarium had finished and he was left to watch that jewel-bright being swim disaffectedly through its new home that doubt had seized him, all-consuming and black. He had, admittedly, panicked a little after that.

(Yue Qingyuan’s apartment is very large, and very clean, and very empty. It holds the barest amount of decoration and muss to qualify as lived-in rather than a snapshot from a magazine ad. The fish may, in fact, be the only thing in the entire place which really qualifies as his. No wonder Yue Qingyuan wanted to jettison it from his life as soon as he got it.)

Mu Qingfang’s expression hovers between concern and simple confusion. “I’m sure Yue-xiong will be a more than adequate caretaker,” he says, more gently than Yue Qingyuan and all his neuroses probably deserve. “What’s this really about, Yue-xiong?”

Ah. There it is. Being the mildest person of Yue Qingyuan’s admittedly sharp-tongued social circle doesn’t preclude Mu Qingfang’s wit from being as keen as the scalpels he works with.

“I don’t…” Yue Qingyuan falters. How to express to Mu Qingfang how manifestly unfit Yue Qingyuan is to care for any living creature at all? He changes tack. “I think he hates me,” he admits dolefully.

Mu Qingfang stares at him for a long time, long enough to imply that he’s reevaluating certain opinions about Yue Qingyuan’s intelligence. “Yue-xiong, with all due respect to your new pet—it’s a fish.”

“Fish have emotions!” Yue Qingyuan argues. He flushes at the volume at which it comes out, and at the way Mu Qingfang’s eyes go wide-eyed in startlement. But the salesperson had been very insistent about that, as well. “Bettas are intelligent animals. They dislike certain colors, apparently, and they’re very sensitive—ah, to environmental disruptions, that is. And—”

Mu Qingfang’s eyebrows are still high, but his face has relaxed into a smile. “It sounds to me like you like it quite a bit already. Isn’t that reason enough to keep it?” His tone curls with sudden mischief. “Have heart, Yue-xiong—you’ve hardly known each other for a day! Give it time to adjust to you, and I’m sure you’ll win it over as surely as you do everyone else.” And he grins, sure and easy in his trust that Yue Qingyuan won’t fumble and shatter something so small and monumental as a life that he could cup in his palms.

While Yue Qingyuan is still dazed by that, Mu Qingfang’s eyes alight with interest. “Ah, Yue-xiong—what have you named it?”

“...”

Mu Qingfang’s face falls as devastatingly as it had lit up. “Yue-xiong…”

“Mu-xiong is aware that I was unsure of whether or not I’d keep him!” Yue Qingyuan is terribly aware that his ears are now heating up to match his cheeks. Mu Qingfang’s ensuing laughter does not help with that matter.

Yue Qingyuan is not very good at holding onto things. More often than not, he makes a mess of whatever he’s set his clumsy hands to, lets it fall right through his scarred fingers. But Mu Qingfang’s words ring through his head: Isn’t that reason enough to keep it? And, well, isn’t it? Surely Yue Qingyuan is adult enough to follow through on this. Maybe happiness can be look like his new betta swimming up to the tank to observe the new colorful form moving in front of it, can come as easy as Mu Qingfang quipping that his knowledge about fish is clearly lacking and vowing casually to read up on bettas to be a better fish uncle.

Yue Qingyuan buries a smile and walks over to let Mu Qingfang know that bettas can be trained to follow fingers around. The betta’s clear preference for Mu Qingfang over Yue Qingyuan is as good a marker of intelligence as any fun fact the pet shop worker could have given him. Yes, Yue Qingyuan thinks with a smile—he thinks he’ll be keeping this after all.

[ddanosaur]

thinking about how ppl adapted to their changes after the sallow and the new features they have

like it HAD to have been hard

amber getting photosensitive migraines or episodes of vertigo due to the expanded field of vision

devo having a hard time talking (and by extension doing his magic) or maybe having pain in his throat at times

ppl who grew fins or tails needing to be more aware of a new extremity and having to alter their clothes to accommodate

and i imagine that these difficulties persisted for a while after, like it would take a long time to adjust to such big changes to your physical body

and not to mention getting used to the visual changes of how you look now

and tbh to me as a disabled person i think the sallow and the changes it caused can be a kind of representation of what it’s like living with a disability or chronic illness esp in the phases shortly after you get sick/become disabled and also while you’re trying to come to terms with this new part of your life

[emblazons]

“If this is to work, we must appear madly in love.”

Phoenixflare Week || Day 3: Pretend Relationship / Fake Dating Joshua Rosfield & Dion Lesage + The Duke & I/Bridgerton AU

Joshua Rosfield—Duke of Rosaria—recently returned from his travels to proper Valisthean court intent on avoiding his mother's intentions to introduce him to every high-born match available, in hopes of finally marrying him off. Yet, during the first ball of the season, an encounter with his childhood friend Dion Lesage—the now cast-off Prince of Sanbreque—provides him with another option. If Prince Dion agrees to a fake courtship, Joshua can deter his mother from a parade of marriageable prospects being placed before him—while Dion (whose prospects were reduced to all but the lowest houses when his true-blood brother Oliver was born) might once again see his prospects and reputation soar. Despite being a match between two of Valisthea's strongest families, a romance between two high-ranking men of the realm is unprecedented—and too interesting for society not to watch with rapt interest. The plan works like a charm—at first. But amid the glittering, gossipy, cut-throat world of Valisthean elite, there is only one certainty: Love ignores every rule.

[puppetmaster13u]

Oh boi even more of One au in like 3 hours lol

I like to think that like how in @phoenixcatch7's Doll au there's gas versions of like cures and such in the batfam's gas masks since they don't need to breath when possessing the puppets right? I like to think there's an organic version of that with the meat puppet bodies, at least with Bruce, where the plates on his neck opens up into vents of sorts, pictured here with a few spikes removed for visibility reasons.

This gas could be some cures for like Joker venom & Fear gas and such, or it could also be sedatives, paralytics, could even vary between each member. (For example in the Cryptidverse Steph has Anesthetics on her claws, Jason has reflective powder that mimics embers/sparks, Cass has paralytics, etc). Honestly I am just brainstorming so this could definitely change lmao

I do like to think they start developing their own venom though, gotta' have those fangs & tusks for some reason lol

[thepromisedbride]

i don’t talk about bridgerton on here but just to clarify. i will not be having ANY eloise hate on this account. i will bite.

[akkivee]

Intensely Spicy Curry Training: Hypmic Curry Drama Track TL

Kuukou: Y’all sure took your sweet time getting here! I’ve already got everything prepared!

Jyushi: But didn’t you tell us to meet you at the temple?

Hitoya: If we’re making curry, why the hell are we way out in the mountains to do it?

Kuukou: Because I just had a great idea. Check this out!

Jyushi: Ooooh, look at all this meat! So, we’re going to be using all of this in our curry?

Hitoya: Beef and chicken, huh? I guess it would make sense not cook these while inside your temple.

Kuukou: You’re half right, and half wrong.

Jyushi: What do you mean?

Kuukou: I don’t plan to make just any ol’ curry. Now it’s time for the both of y’all to mince the hell out of this meat!!

Hitoya: I didn’t know whether to expect if a corrupt little monk such as yourself knew how to cook, but I’m surprised. Instead of using something pre-made, if we pound and mince the meat ourselves, we’d get a far more superior product. Is that what you were thinking?

Jyushi: Oh, I see! That’s amazing, Kuukou-san!

Hitoya: So, where’d you put the food processor?

Kuukou: Ah?? The hell are you on? You’re grinding this meat with your bare hands.

Jyushi: …Eh?

Kuukou: Jyushi, you’re on beef! Hitoya, you’re taking the chicken! Punch it with everything you’ve got and make minced meat out of it!! This is a new training session I thought up!

Hitoya: What the hell is this fool saying??

Jyushi: B-But there’s so much meat!! Grinding it by hand is impossible!!

Kuukou: I don’t want to hear any complaints!! You don’t know that unless you try!

Jyushi & Hitoya: *reluctantly pounds the meat by hand*

Jyushi: *tearfully* …My body’s going to become minced meat before the actual beef!

Hitoya: Damn it, I can’t believe I let my guard down like this…! I shouldn’t have expected we’d simply make curry…!

Kuukou: You can’t expect to get anywhere with a weak spirit behind weak fists like that!! Lemme show you how it’s done!

Kuukou: *starts punching*

Hitoya: You bastard, those are vegetables!!

Jyushi: E-Even I could mince a tomato by hand!

Kuukou: It doesn’t matter either way!! Whether it’s vegetables or meat, all that matters is the heart you’re putting behind it!!

Jyushi: T-That doesn’t make any sense…!!

Kuukou: “Enlightenment can be attained through one thousand fists!” Don’t just keep yapping and put some energy into your hips and legs too!

Hitoya: Tch, I don’t see any way out of this… Then, I might as well get it over with…!! UWOOOOOOOOOAAAARRRRGHHHH!!!!!!!! *maximum effort punching*

Jyushi: H-Hitoya-san??

Kuukou: Hyahaha! There’s the effort I wanna see!

Jyushi: Guh… Because My God has unshackled the chains binding his true power, I, too, must unlock mine to continue alongside him…! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!! *maximum effort punching*

-------------------------

Jyushi: I-I can’t move another inch…

Hitoya: Ugh… I can’t even take the cap off my water bottle…

Kuukou: *sighs* It’s pretty pathetic to be that exhausted just from cooking.

Hitoya: You…!!!

Jyushi: But, I think it would be really nice if our training efforts could be felt by those eating our curry…!

Hitoya: …Well, I don’t think I’d say it like that, but I agree with the sentiment.

*the trees rustle and the birds chirp and there is peace*

Kuukou: The fuck are y’all talking about? There’s no point to this if the people who eating aren’t going through training too.

Jyushi: Eh?

Kuukou: Training can only be felt when you grow from the trials you’ve experienced yourself. Hopping off from other people’s efforts won’t mean shit.

Jyushi: B-but I mean, we’ll still be serving the curry to others once it’s finished cooking, right?

Kuukou: Yup. Which is why I’ve got…!

Hitoya: UWAH!! MY EYES!! IT’S IN MY EYES!!

Jyushi: That powder…!!

Hitoya: It’s red chili pepper!! Jyushi, run!! Move upwind so it doesn’t blow and stick to your mucous membrane!!

Jyushi: Eeek!!! *runs away sobbing*

Kuukou: HYAHAHAHAHAHA!!

Hitoya: Kuukou, you bastard, what are you doing? Are you trying to ruin everything we worked on??

Kuukou: I’m not ruining a damn thing! This curry will be spicy so I can provide a remote kind of training!

Hitoya: Stop fucking around!! There’s gotta be a limit!!

Jyushi: *runs back over* I think there’s more chili pepper powder than ingredients now…!!

Kuukou: Then it’s just right! Now try it.

Jyushi: NO!! I will not be eating!! I absolutely refuse!! Don’t even try me!!

Kuukou: Hey stupid, watch it, that’s dangerous!! Stop fighting me and just—Ahh??

Jyushi: T-The inside of the pot is pitch black……!!

Hitoya: Obviously. Chili peppers burn easily. Haah… Let’s just remake the curry.

Jyushi: But doesn’t that mean we’ll have to mince more meat??

Kuukou: Whatever, I was thinking our “Intensely Spicy Curry Training” was made too halfheartedly anyway!! Time to give it all I got and win this championship!!

[sophiethewitch1]

UwU any spoilers for the next chapter,,

I have meant to do this multiple times but keep forgetting so here's an extra long snippet in apology! It's basically the entire start of the next chapter ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Damn. Your indulgent TV stalking of the Wayne’s really doesn’t hit the same once you technically knew them. And you were hiding inside one of their bedrooms, inside one of their clothes, using their TV subscription. It just didn’t feel right. Morally, of course, but that wasn’t what you were talking about. No, you were just pissy your favourite passtime was basically ruined. You shovel another spoonful of cookie dough ice cream into your mouth, glaring through tired eyes at the screen.

There’s an up close shot of Dick Grayson’s abs. The presenter ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ over his physical form, and you have to agree. You wish you had abs like that. Unfortunately you did respond to most unwanted experiences with stress eating. As always with these celebrity figures, you can’t really tell if you want to be Dick or be with Dick. Your butt is nowhere near the level his is at.

While you hadn’t really set out today looking for shirtless pictures of the Waynes, it wasn’t like you were going to say no to them. So, when the gossip channel had switched from the reactions of the Waynes to last night’s fiasco to… this… you’d just kept watching.

You wonder if you should stop doing this. It’s definitely kind of creepy, and now you’d technically once been his… step sister. What a mind fuck. You’ve been crushing on these dudes for a while, and now they were your ex-step siblings. This was like the start of a bad porno, but you knew you were not that lucky. And it wasn’t like you were going to start thinking of him as a brother any time soon. You hadn’t even met the guy. No, he was still firmly in the ‘celebrity crush’ section of your mind. Pretty and untouchable. The way things are supposed to be.

Which was also bad because you would probably have to meet and interact with him at some point. Probably in the near future. God knows you’d absolutely humiliated yourself in front of the fucking Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne,. Twice, in fact. You didn’t even want to think about the display you’d shown for Bruce Wayne or Damian Wayne.

You didn’t really know what to do with your slightly obsessive crushes. And you could see it definitely being a problem in the near future.

…You decide that what you do in your private time is absolutely nobody but yours business, and keep watching. It’s a mix of bitter spite and geniune mental breakdown levels of desperation that leads you to that decision. You feel like you’re a child with their toy being taken away, and it’s making you mad. And sad too. Even if you shouldn’t do this anymore, you still wanted to keep the habit. You’d mentioned before your creature comforts were one of the few things that kept you going. And while you were mostly very good at not being the jealous, heinous creature you really are, you knew you wouldn’t be giving this up.

They’d have to tear your gossip channels from your cold dead palms. You weren’t giving them up, not without a fight at least. Unfortunately for you, the universe seemed determined to wrestle away literally everything you loved.

Guilt’s for tomorrow. Today is for ice cream and purposefully ignoring everything. Speaking of which, you can not remember the last time you had a good Ben & Jerry’s. They were so expensive these days, as all groceries were. You simply couldn’t afford it. The Waynes, of course, had multiple tubs in multiple different options. Alfred had seemed delighted that you’d taken the ice cream, for which reasons you could not perceive.

Oh, yeah! His name was Alfred. Very butler-y. You’d remember it this time, he was a very nice man. And he called you ‘young miss’ which earned him points. He also didn’t seem to hate you on sight, or treat you like a two-headed freak, like some of the other people in this household. Not naming names. Yeah, fuck that noise, Damian Wayne obviously has issues and it’s much less attractive in real life.

The woman drones on, and your eyes flick to your phone. Yup, she’s still yapping. It’s not like you don’t appreciate Dick’s abs or anything, it’s just that you think she might’ve been talking about this one specific photo for over half an hour now. Lady should get a hobby. Wait, wait, this is her job. Maybe you should start a podcast where you rant about the Wayne’s excercise regimes. It seems to be quite a lucrative field.

You shriek when the door slams open, nearly tumbling backwards off the bed. Hands manage to grip the bedcovers before you tip over, not making a complete fool of yourself. As it goes, you lose your spoon to the carpet. Bits of cookie dough spread over the floor in a divine sacrifice. And you lose your sanity to the man standing in the doorway. To be fair, he looks just as confused as you feel.

You blink at the physically perfect form of Dick Grayson, and then turn your head to the TV to look at the other physically perfect form of Dick Grayson.

…You really wish you had a good explanation for this.

He mutters out your name, lips parted. Dick Grayson seems absolutely shocked to find you here. His eyes flick around the room, and eventually land on the TV. Said baby blues widen to the size of saucers when the reporter makes a really, really unneccesary comment.

“And in news that broke the hearts of both ladies and gentlemen everywhere in Bludhaven, Dick Grayson has announced he will be returning to Gotham to assist his family in this difficult time. My cousin in the Blud is probably crying right now. There’s no ass out there quite like his, and there’s no replacement for Bludhaven’s favourite young rich bachelor,” she winks at the camera, and then the shot of his tone stomach phases forward to take up the entire screen.

Well, there’s a lot to say about that. First of all, fuck. Second of all, shit. Third of all, she really couldn’t have said that part about Dick coming back to Gotham sooner? Per chance, before you’d found yourself in this situation?

You said you weren’t that lucky, you meant it.

“But still, ain’t that lucky for us Gothamites? I myself have spent a lot of time on Dick’s Tiktok and Instagram, and his thirst traps have been used in a lot of my personal-”

You snatch the remote from the sheets and pause it right there. The silence is tense.

[firefl1ezz]

i just. hit s+ rank in splatoon and i never honestly thought this would happen?? am i cool now.. do i get to be a part of the s4? do i get to be watered down to my running joke all the time?

[melonnade]

Had a really long talk with my roommate about this & we came to opposite conclusions. What do you guys think?

[soulshards]

FFXIVWRITE 2024, PROMPT #22: WARNING (Free Day) tw: none • words: 1191

a statement or event that warns of something or that serves as a cautionary example

Deeza had always been one for adventure - whether when they were younger, with their crew, or now they were grown, as a mercenary or guard. The latter is how they found themselves in the New World, having boarded a ship with a man who had agreed to pay them a lot of money in order to accompany them in search for newfound information, of a land rarely set foot on by Eorzeans.

They had no reason to say no, after all, and a new place meant new people and new monsters to test their mettle against. And so, they had agreed. The boat ride they took with ease, enjoying the freeing feeling that came with sailing upon open seas, as wind tousled short cut hair.

The city of Tuliyollal was taken with stride; its food tasted, its people met, its customs respected. Dee was rough and tumble, that much was true, but they knew they were an outsider in foreign lands and did their best to not upset that balance with their presence.

Plus, they had been asked by their employer to be on their best behaviour. So, they would be. They were escorting a scholar, after all. They didn’t need to be a complete brute.

Deeza had been told they would be here for about a week, if not two. And they would be allowed some down time in order to go about their own business. The scholar did not need guarding when they were staying in the city, after all. Or when they were in other able company.

While few were allowed passage across the bridge that would span between Yok Tural, their current whereabouts, and Xak Tural - the scholar had managed, somehow, to talk his way into being let through, in order to help with the current investigations around the Unlost World.

Deeza did not care for this part of the work, their brain mostly tuning out the yapping as they escorted the scholar to Sheshenewezi Springs, citing they would be back later while they conducted their research with the locals.They would be safe enough, they figured. Given there were plenty of other scholars and adventurers around these parts looking into the matter themselves - it had become a hot topic, even if Dee was largely uninterested.

The plains of Shaaloani were not unlike that of Ul’dah, in some ways. It was hot, the sun scorching down upon the dusty ground. Cacti roamed, though different in shapes and sizes. A large city was not at its north, but a peaking mountain range. It was quaint, and in a way, familiar.

Through their travels, Deeza had found that there were a couple of other settlements that they had passed by on the way to the Springs, but did not have the pleasure of stopping at - though they were told of plenty of bandits that roamed around. They were not concerned with the latter, and decided to walk south towards the settlements that had been left in passing.

A Rroneek had been offered, but frankly, Deeza did not trust the beasts all that much yet - they were unfamiliar to the Keeper, so they would keep their distance, and go by foot, even if again they were warned of the dangers.

The sun was bright in the sky, glaring down upon the dark skinned Miqo’te as they followed the vague dirt paths that stretched between each settlement. The creatures of this land kept to themselves, grazing lazily in the open plains, as they walked by rocky hills and plateaus. In the shade of the sun there was a slight wind, causing a chill, but nothing the heavily clad Keeper couldn’t handle.

Fingers idly stretched at their side, flexing out and causing the earth to rumble beneath their feet as they walked - no real purpose to their steps, or to the aether they used. Just keeping idle hands busy on the otherwise uneventful walk. Until a rock upon a hill tumbled down, causing the Keeper to snap their mismatched gaze up as they paused in their steps.

Ears perked up high, listening out for any signs of an ambush. They were walking alone - and to anyone else, unarmed, but they did not look like anyone of import - just a common adventurer. Then again, Deeza knew not how low the gangs around here would stoop, and they were an outsider all the same. It was better to air on the side of caution.

The earth began to ripple and warp as their hand remained stretched out, clumps of dirt drifting up to their palm before it would solidify in a handle, and with it, the rest of a great earthen axe would form.

They held it loosely in their scarred hand, casting their gaze one more upon the top of the hill they were passing, before steps carried them forward once more. Shoulders tensed with the weight of their new weapon, but they continued on as if nothing was the matter. Even if the hairs on the back of their neck were standing up.

A sharp whistle sounded out as they took a few more steps, and while ears moved to hone in on the noise, they kept their stride. Metal greaves clunking in the dirt, they would come to the edge of the hill. Several footsteps could be heard now, closer, shuffling down rocks and scurrying to an ambush behind a rocky crevice.

Deeza tilted their head, jaw squaring off as a soft sigh left them. “Y’gonna’ regret it,” they’d call out, at first. Letting them know they knew they were there, and that if they wanted a fight, the Keeper would deliver. The axe was hefted up, coming to rest across their shoulders as they stayed still.

The shuffling of feet came to a stop, no more rocks disturbed by movement, and the Keeper waited.

They heard it, before they had time to react. The cock of a gun and the firing of a pistol that sent a warning shot to the dirt behind them. Deeza turned quickly, fangs on show as a snarl left their dark painted lips; before them, a Miqo’te - or, as they were called here, a Hhetsarro. Long blond hair pulled into a high ponytail, their own mismatched gaze looking down the barrel of a gun that was pointed right at the Miqo’te.

“Y’gonna’ regret it,” they spoke, a drawl to their words, not dissimilar to Deeza’s own accent. But different, in many other ways. An unknown twang they couldn’t quite place.

Ears stayed high up, as they heard the scurry of footsteps once more, as a handful of men wielding their own weapons would not creep out to block Deeza’s exit to the south. The hand not holding the axe across their shoulders would raise up, a slight grin tugging at the corners of their lips.

“Ah, c’mon now, w’can talk ‘bout this, righ’?” They could fight about it, too. But if they ended up maiming some locals, they would only get an earful from the scholar upon their return. So, they would try talking, first. They could usually talk their way out of most things.