#ah alvin

[toasts-httyd-hyperfixation]

Consider...... Rasputin style song but about Alvin

Edit: reblogs turned off on this guy cause its bugged out on my end and fucks with the rest of my stuff

[deadsetobsessions]

Fae adjacent! Danny, pt. 3

Jason returns to consciousness with a scream trapped before it could come to life. He twisted his neck back and forth and back and forth.

It was the last thing he did before he died. When the Joker left and told him to say hello to the big guy, Jason could not muster up the energy to make a single sound.

But Bruce… Bruce was here this time, heavy head making the mattress by his leg dip.

The scars that ran over his face stretched as he blinked.

“…B?”

Bruce’s head shot up, eyes bloodshot and bags heavier than a Gotham socialite’s solid gold Dior purse.

“Jaylad.”

Jason- Jason was alive now. Bruce’s hug felt warm, the tear spot on his shoulder was damp as his dad cried while hugging him.

And Jason should be happy. He’s alive again. His dad loved him.

But all he could think about was the cold of the coffin, the squelch of mud and dirt, and the unerringly wrong feeling of knowing he came back but he came back wrong.

——

Tim had wandered Gotham in the weeks following Jason’s reawakening. He wasn’t avoiding Bruce Wayne. He wasn’t. But Tim knows he’ll have to answer questions soon. He just wasn’t ready.

Tim looked up at the den of pixies- pixies were real!- and squared his shoulders. He did his research. Tim Drake walks into the den with nothing but foolish hope and Gotham-brand audacity. He’ll get answers about Danny today. He will.

——

Soul-Plucker, they called him. Danny Fenton, the proprietor of Fenton Artifacts. The High King.

“I thought King Oberon was the High King?”

The pixies chittered at the little human that could have been kin. Their wings fluttered at their backs, muffled by cloth. It’s not often they find kindred. It really is too bad that Fenton had his mark on the child. How they would have loved to whisk him away. He would have made entertainment that would last a millennia! Or until the court decided to cut of his tongue, at least. How well he had tricked them!

“Of course! Of course! King Oberon is our king, see?” A younger pixie swirled her drink, a shining red and blue thing. “But he’s the High King of another court!”

“The High King of the Infinite Realms, encompassing far more than King Oberon and Queen Tatianna could ever reach.”

Another pixie chimed in, on their fourth glass of amber colored nectar. “The Soul-Plucker!”

“The Beginning of the End.”

“Afterlife IRS department!”

“He who wanders.”

“Death-Caller.” Another one said, grave and serious.

“The Arbiter.”

“So, he’s like, the boss of bosses?” Tim asked. What kind of entity did he make a deal with? Why was he kind to Tim? What motives did Danny have?

“Uh huh!”

“Then what’s he’s doing here?”

“Who knows? The whims of the most powerful are unknown to us.” The pixies clustered around Tim. “Won’t you play another game with us, Alvin? You’re so good at it! Oh, how about a drink?”

“Can’t. I gotta get home. Also, I’m a minor.” Tim slipped passed their fluttering wings and manic smiles. They move to let him past, waving drinks at him in a tantalizing manner.

“And where is that, sweet one?”

“Somewhere, Liltri. Somewhere.”

Tim Drake was a child of pure will, pure hard headed foolishness, a mind sharper than any blade, and luck more terrifying than the creatures he now dealt with. And so, he stepped out of the Pixie Bar with more questions than answers but he stepped out unharmed.

——

“Who are you?” The shadows shift as Lady Gotham unveiled her knight.

Danny felt his eyes cool, glinting green and blue. Lady Gotham forgets who her liege is.

“Haven’t you done your research? You who walks along the edge of shadows, my shop is not a place to dismiss decorum.”

“You brought… you brought him back. How. Why?”

“You want answers? Then give me something in return.”

Danny gestured to the circle his clients have come to know as the deal-maker. Danny doesn’t ask for much in return. Just… something equal to the request.

“Ah,” Danny pointed up at the sign. “I am legally able to deny you my service, so don’t get any ideas.”

Batman was studied up on myths. But he was not a believer, and that both hindered and helped him. What was a god, in front of the faithless? What was the faithless in front of power?

The vigilante stepped into the circle, unable to see the subtle shimmering of magic but remained unbound by the virtue of his disbelief.

“What do you want for answers?”

“You do not often deal with the occult, do you?” Danny tapped the counter. Batman remained silent.

“I have a soft spot for vigilantes,” Danny continued. “And so I won’t ask for much. Just… your cape.”

“Not my hair? A body part?”

“If you were dealing with the fae, you’d probably would lose something of that value, yes.”

“You aren’t fae.”

Danny merely smiled. “Do we have a deal?”

“My cape in exchange for honest answers to my questions.”

Danny huffed, approval glinting in his eyes.

“Your cape for honest answers to three questions,” Danny pointed at the sign, still hanging above them. “Three questions or nothing.”

Batman grimaced. “Deal.”

“Ask your questions, protector.”

“Why did you bring Jason back to life?”

“I didn’t.” Danny grinned. The Bat should have stipulated that he must answer elaborately. He looked like he realized that. Oh well. His mistake. Well, not like there was actual magic binding Danny, so technically, Danny could lie off his ass.

“…Will Jason stay alive?” Danny had a heart and this man was a much better father than Jack ever was.

“Yes. Barring unnatural causes, his soul is firmly attached to his body and will not shuffle off the mortal coil without warning.”

The lines of Batman’s shoulders slumped. Relief. He paused.

“What are your intentions in this city?”

“To run my shop… and to enjoy retirement.”

Danny laughed at Batman’s stoic face. “Disappointed I am not up to nefarious deeds, little knight?”

“No.”

Danny tapped the table. “My payment?”

Batman shucked off his cape and handed it to Danny.

“Why my cape?”

Danny smiled a fanged little thing. “Because your costume looks stupid without it and I could use a laugh.”

Batman grumbled and turned to leave. Ha paused, eyes catching on the glint of camera lenses.

“How much for that?”

“For the little sparrow’s camera?” Danny sighed, eyes fixed on the form of a vigilante who was more kind than angry for once. “Two thousand dollars.”

“That’s a huge markup.”

“That’s how much it means to me, compared to the rest.” Danny slid beyond the counter, a ghostly air about him. He pinned his newly earned cape up. “My shop, my prices, little knight.”

Batman silently handed him two thousand dollars and left with the little sparrow’s camera.

[puppetmaster13u]

So I am rotating the batfamily, but not like, civilian or vigilante. I am slowly rotating them all having a Malone-sona of sorts that is their in to organized crime.

Like you can't tell me people wouldn't start noticing this family that the bats, the literal cryptids and monsters of Gotham, don't even touch and lets continue to operate despite taking the older crime families apart.

And to Gotham that screams power.

Alfred = Albert “Old Al” Malone I wanna say that he doesn't go out as 'Old Al' often, but gives off Godfather sort of vibes. Usually sitting there with an old cane (that definitely has a sword, they're all dramatic like that lol) half in the dark with a cup of tea or other drink. He gets to stretch his acting skills and honestly the kids definitely had a say in the persona. Old Al is something they all made together and they have fun implying so much fun shit.

Kate = Mary “Madam” Malone She definitely gives off 'snap your spine over her knee if not for the fact it would get your blood all over her clothes' vibes. Stylized nails, hair up in fishtail braids or ponytails or whatever, looks like she could tear out ones throat and they'd thank her. It's a running gag that she's in finances, even if no one in the underbelly believes it.

Bruce = “Matches” Malone I mean, it's classic Matches (though most probably assume that Matches isn't his real name) who seems rather chill until someone breaks the rules. Gives off vibes that he doesn't usually get his own hands dirty but will do so to make a point, and enjoy doing it. He sometimes uses Matches to check in on places he can't as a shadowy cryptid, and it's not like the lower income areas would fully trust Brucie Wayne.

Barbara = Madison “Maddie” Malone Now let's be honest, Barbara enjoys messing with people, she enjoys knowing every little thing as Oracle, and she definitely does that as Maddie. The thing is, no one knows how she learns about things, other criminals search for a traitor, for a leak, for anything, and get nothing. Which is utterly terrifying. Because there has to be some sort of information network, there has to be. And somehow they're so good that they're indistinguishable to any others.

Dick = Micheal “Mikey” Malone Honestly Dick uses this chance to get into a bunch of fights just for fun. Flirts a bit more freely but doesn't really have an interest in actually getting with someone. Just has funs and is known for throwing his own parties that usually end in free-for-all brawls. He absolutely loves being able to have parties that are the opposite of galas he's usually dragged into.

Cass = Molly Malone She's quiet and graceful, but she takes it to unnerving levels as Molly. Looks slim but carries guns on her at all time to better differentiate between Cassandra Wayne, Black Bat, and Molly Malone. Everyone knows if you need a weapon, guns, meelee, whatever, she's the one you go to. Gotham help you if you cross her though.

Jason = Peter “Petey” Malone Where Molly Malone goes, everyone knows Petey will be there as well. Jason absolutely adores the time he gets to do so, it's his turn to be silent and dramatic. Everyone can recognize the jagged scar over his neck, they can recognize it from corpses the Bats have gotten their talons on. Honestly he's delighted in being able to be Cass' enforcer of sorts and just have a good fight. Even if he complains about how making his Malone mute makes it where he can't quote Shakespeare like he wants to.

Steph = “Mia” Malone Ah yes, the explosive Malone. The one who has more arson charges than Firefly. Or at least she would if she was caught, but the entire Underbelly knows it was her. Steph is living her best life being able to pull all sorts of pranks and crazy shit and takes several ideas from Harley. Honestly she probably smells like gasoline or smoke all the time, and definitely put glitter in her hair. Maybe even has red hair as a Malone as well.

Tim = Alvin “Al” Malone He still goes by Alvin Draper too, which results in half the underbelly thinking that Draper is his middle name. Honestly he's having the best time, everyone knows to come to him for forgeries and less than legal identities, which he loves to create. I mean just look at how many new identities he creates for himself alone. He enjoys this type of thing, and hey, it's so easy to keep track of whose identity is fake when you're the one who made them. Plus it also lets him do good for those on the run for good reasons, a way to make sure people are safe.

Duke = Dennis “Denny” Malone Everyone knows Denny was adopted, but y'know what, I bet they don't care. And you know Duke is utterly insane, like jump off a bridge to escape the cops and create the We are Robin gang insane. And he gets to play that up as Denny. He will put forth the most batshit ideas and actually pull them off. I bet he uses his future-sight to cheat at different games and pool tables and all sorts of things, but no one can ever prove it. Because there is no proof, and the other people playing just has to deal with it.

Damian = “Mini M” Malone The little baby of the family, who everyone knows the older Malones absolutely dote over. This is his chance to act like an actual child, just with a hint of art theft. Hey, it wasn't like they got it legally either, so it's free game, especially if they weren't taking proper care of the art or a pet. He's just pleased to get to have even more pets, and that Goliath his demon dragon-bat gets to go on walkies.

Jarro = Jadan “Lil J” Malone Now Jarro is delighted to have a third mech, and is even more delighted for people to believe Damian (or technically M jr) and him are twins. Gives off someone is going to die- of fun with Mini M, and honestly enjoys being able to use his natural telepathy to be a small horror movie child that knows too much. Like will stare up at someone with wide eyes covered in blood and the others in Gotham's underbelly still aren't sure if the blood was his or someone elses. (it was neither)

================================================

Honestly I might write a oneshot or something for the Cryptid Batfam focusing on just them as the Malones family.

[thedragon-and-hisboy]

bonkers to me that Hiccup sees Savage about to kill him, is then kidnapped again, and the next time he sees Savage is being buddy-buddy with dagur on Berserker Island in Something Rotten on BI. does that not set off all sorts of trauma alarms?? unlike other former villains, he doesn't ever see him in any other context. Alvin, Dagur, and even Mildew get their redemptions but Savage just keeps being evil.

damn. am i gonna write a fic where hiccup has a mini panic attack after running into Savage at some point during that episode? will savage make some seemingly-innocuous comment that triggers hiccup? or will it be more threatening and dagur brushes off hiccup's concern? or will that episode go wrong and savage takes the opportunity to attack hiccup?

ah, fanfic. endless possibilities

[absolutebl]

Hi Absolute BL! I am in awe of your encyclopedic knowledge of BL and I would like to ask– how do you manage to watch so much and still have time for work and all the stuff that needs to get done in life?

Asking because I'd love to watch more but really, with my day job's hours I only have so many spoons (and minutes, after chores) left at the end of the day that I can only squeeze in like bits at a time.

I've tried watching shows speeded up but can't do more than 1.25x because I like listening for language nuance (Thai especially) and anything beyond that gets too Alvin Chipmunk for me (and shows like Sweet Tooth Good Dentist where they already speak so fast just sound like parody and take away from the drama).

Honestly, how do you do it?

ah the lifestyle question

well, I travel a lot. Like a lot a lot. I am on the road more than I am at home.

And travel is actually quite a solitary sport with tons of downtime. I love my work, but I don’t always want to be working all day and every night. So often in hotel rooms after hours I just watch shows. I also download them or have access to Wi-Fi when flying and at airports. So I have a pretty decent amount of time to watch BL on the road, as long as they can be accessed on the devices I’m traveling with.

Sometimes when I’m traveling to certain parts of the world my VPN doesn’t work or I won’t bring my computer and am working only off wearable tech (I refuse to use the WeTV ap). Usually, that means I’m going to a place with high crime and theft.

I also have no primary partner, no kids, and very little family left. The first 2 are by choice and are likely to stay that way. I much prefer being single, having long term play partners, and friends all around the world (so there’s always somebody I can visit when I’m in their city).

i live small, clean, and sparse with very little stuff, bills automated, mostly eating out or cooking lite, it makes everything very low maintenance. when home my biggest chore is usually just… laundry, and those catch up appointments with dentists etc… I just try to never over-complicate anything.

it’s amazing how much free time this affords

all the more to watch BL with

[theladyofshalott1989]

"Carpe Diem" (An HCU Winter One-Shot)

Summary: The HCU has returned to Hogwarts after their various holiday escapades. On a snowy day in January, they make up for lost time.

Word Count: 2,187

[ AO3 Link ]

4th January, 1893

// 5 AM //

“Why in Merlin’s ever loving name are we up this early?” Alvin asked Matty through a yawn. 

Matty, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, donned bright red antler ears despite the terrible hour. Naturally, she’d already perched a matching set on Alvin’s unsuspecting head. With a wide grin, she piped back, “Pastries, of course!”

“Right.” 

“They need to be done before everyone wakes up!” 

She was too perky. Too perky and then some. Though Alvin had to admit he found it rather endearing. But he was so tired, darn her!

“Remind me,” he continued. “Why are we baking Christmas pastries in January?”

“Because not all of our friends were here over the holidays, silly!” Matty leapt over to Alvin and dolloped his nose with a touch of flour. She giggled.

“Right.” Alvin waited for her to turn around before bringing his hand to his nose, touching it delicately, smiling, and then scrubbing away the evidence.

Just in time, too, as she swiveled around and said, “Now help me with the dough, please.”

“Anything for you, dear,” came Alvin’s playful reply. 

The day may have started early, but beginning it with Matty made it all worth it. 

// 6 AM //

“Get up! Get up! Get up, Sebastian!”

Sebastian jolted awake, scrambling up in bed with a speed that could rival a Hippogriff soaring over the Black Lake. “Damien! What is it?” he shouted, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest.

“Snow, Sebastian! Snow!”

Sebastian sighed. Ah yes, of course. How could he forget? Damien and snow were practically soulmates. “...And?” he asked, peeling the sheets off of his body. 

He squinted at Damien, who was bouncing up and down near the window. The sunrise streaming through the curtains cast a dull red glow on Damien’s dark blond hair, making him appear as if he’d been dipped in firelight. Thank Merlin Damien’s roommates were still away for the holidays. Otherwise, they’d surely be awake by now, thanks to Damien’s overflowing excitement.

“You promised me we’d make snowmen together!”

“...Now? It’s—” he groped for his pocket watch on the nightstand, squinting at the face before groaning, “6 AM. Can it wait?” 

“No,” Damien said, pouting. 

“Right. Fantastic.” The sarcasm was implied. Damien was lucky he had a pretty face. “But breakfast first. Please .” His stomach growled in agreement. 

Damien beamed back at him, too excited to be put out by Sebastian’s grumpiness. “Yes! Hurry, hurry,” he said, tossing Sebastian’s clothes onto the bed in a messy pile.

“I’m hurrying,” Sebastian grumbled.

It was shaping up to be a very long day indeed. But at least there was food first, and Damien, too, he supposed. Ugh, fine. 

// 7 AM //

“Wheeeeeeee!” Florence’s hair flopped into his face as he sped down the hill, his sled propelled by the hefty push James had given it mere moments before. 

James was surprisingly strong, wasn’t he? Quite impressive, really. 

“Again!” Florence called, catching sight of James at the top of the hill, grinning like he was king of the hill, or maybe just king of Florence’s heart. 

James cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered back, “It’s my turn though!”

“Alright, that’s fair.” Florence doubted James could hear him from this far away, but he leapt to his feet and began the trek back up the hill, his sled bumping along behind him. 

Today was going to be a great day.

// 8 AM //

Jo and Silas had kicked off the day early, determined to make sure everything was perfect. Later this morning, they planned to surprise their friends, all of whom had returned from their various Christmas holidays, with belated gifts—something they’d been scheming for weeks.

Well, perhaps ‘scheming’ wasn’t the best choice of word. It was, after all, a very kind gesture on their part.

Jo smiled, picking up her third gift box of the morning, checking its contents and then beginning the process of wrapping. 

“What’s in that one?” Silas asked, pointing at the present in her lap. As he did, his thigh brushed against hers, and Jo’s cheeks instantly flushed.

Stay calm, stay calm, she told herself. It’s just his thigh. Don’t panic.

“Erm, it’s a hat and scarf I knitted myself,” she somehow managed to eke out.

Silas’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know you knitted.”

Jo’s gaze dropped to her hands. “Oh, uh, there’s… there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” she mumbled, adding quietly, “but, uh, maybe you’ll find out more… eventually.” 

Smooth, Jo. Very smooth. 

Silas laughed. “You’re adorable, you know that?” 

Jo blinked. “Am I?” 

What was happening?

Silas picked up the closest present from the floor, hopped back onto the sofa, and settled with his back against her chest. Jo’s breath hitched, her heart fluttering. 

“Yes, you are,” he murmured, taking her hand in his and planting a soft, lingering kiss upon it.

Oh my.

If the events of the day thus far were any indication, Jo might just find herself getting used to this. 

// 9 AM //

“Why is it always so dark in here?” Tori muttered to herself as she stepped into the Three Broomsticks. The night before, Poppy had sent her an owl asking to meet here at 9 AM. For what, Tori hadn’t the foggiest idea. Still, Poppy could be trusted… except for that one time with the dragon. But Tori tried not to think about that. 

The inn was unusually quiet at this early hour; Sirona wasn’t even haunting her usual spot at the bar. 

“Surprise!” Poppy cried, popping out from behind a table with a grin. 

Tori placed a hand to her heart, feigning surprise—well, mostly feigning it. It had been a few weeks since she’d last seen Poppy, and in that moment, her beauty completely stole Tori’s breath away. Better to not let that show. 

Poppy smirked. “Happy to see me?”

“That depends,” Tori said, one eyebrow raised. 

“On?”

“Why we’re here.”

“Oh! You haven’t figured it out by now?” 

Tori only just noticed that Poppy was holding something behind her back. She had been too distracted by more important things, like Poppy’s entrancing, deep brown eyes. 

“I bought you something!” Poppy continued, holding out a giant red and green box with a massive ribbon that looked entirely too large.

Tori blanched. “For me? You didn’t have to—”

Poppy cut her off. “Oh, please. You deserve it.” 

Tori looked down at her feet, so she was startled when the present entered her field of vision. Poppy had shoved it into her chest. She grabbed it instinctively, her fingers brushing against Poppy’s for the briefest moment. 

“You’re too good to me,” Tori whispered, glancing down at Poppy shyly. 

Poppy’s eyes met hers. She smiled. “Maybe, but I think you’re worth it.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Tori’s cheek. 

Tori’s heart skipped a beat. She looked forward to finding out what was inside the box, but mostly she was just happy to have her Poppy back on this lovely January day. 

// 10 AM //

Ale was not in a good mood. He glowered at Val and Cal, who were all but wrapped around each other in the corner of the room, whispering and giggling like they were the only ones here.  Meanwhile, Jo and Silas were busy arranging Christmas presents to hand out to the group, their cheerful chatter doing nothing to lift Ale’s sour disposition. 

Damien and Sebastian were at the table with the pastries, which had been baked by Matty and Alvin in the wee hours of the morning, apparently. Damien, as always, was stuffing his face like he hadn’t eaten in days, while Sebastian looked on with a bemused smile. Across the room, Alyn and Ominis sat on a sofa sipping warm hot cocoa. They were laughing, probably at some bit of gossip that Ominis had just divulged. James and Florence were drying off by the door, clearly still buzzing from what seemed to have been a rousing morning in the snow. James's hair was soaking wet, and he shook his head like a wet dog, sending droplets of water flying in all directions, showering Florence in the process. Florence didn’t seem to mind.

The scene was chaotic, but Ale had grown used to it. He hadn’t grown used to seeing Val with Cal. 

And now they were kissing!

“Excuse me! There are other people present!” he growled. 

They kept kissing. It figured. 

Perhaps a change in subject would be amenable.

“Where are Alex and Cassie?” Ale said as Sebastian ambled over in his general direction. 

“No clue,” he replied. “I slept in Damien’s common room last night.” He said it so nonchalantly, like it was the most casual thing in the world. 

Ale hadn’t realized how lonely he was until now. 

“They’re probably still asleep,” Jo said, answering Ale’s question as she handed him his present. “How are you holding up?”

Ale narrowed his eyes. “Fine, thank you.” He didn’t need anyone’s pity. He was a Salvatori. Salvatoris didn’t need anyone. Especially not Valentine Black. 

Oh, Merlin. She was still kissing Cal. 

Today was the absolute worst. 

// 11 AM //

Alex and Cassie had slept in. In fact, they were still asleep. If someone had strolled by the Slytherin common room, they would have heard Alex’s snores through the heavy stone walls of the dungeon. 

They could very well sleep the day away, wrapped in the warmth of their blankets, lost to the world outside. 

// 12 PM //

Ellie and Freddie also appeared to be asleep on a sofa in Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower. They weren’t actually sleeping, though. They were “resting their eyes,” as Freddie put it.

Ellie, however, seemed to think that Freddie had an ulterior motive behind this so-called “rest.” It was only noon after all. Not that she minded. She was rather enjoying having his towhead cradled in her arms. She could feel his heartbeat through her hand, light and fast, like the flutter of butterfly wings. 

She was about to open her eyes when:

“Good morning, Ellie and Freddie!” someone shouted. Their voice was bright and far too cheerful, so it could only be Poppy.

Ellie tensed and her eyes burst open. Freddie startled to attention as well. They sprang to their feet in unison, caught in the act. No one yet knew they were together. Well, that was about to change. 

“Isn’t it afternoon?” Freddie said, ruffling his hair. 

“You’re right,” Tori said, looking at them apologetically. She was holding hands with Poppy. “Let’s leave them be, Poppy.”

“Oh!” Poppy’s face turned bright pink. “Right, yes. We’ll go.” 

“There’s no need…” Ellie began, but the two of them had already headed out the massive oak doors. 

Freddie let out a long sigh. “Well, it looks like we have some explaining to do.” 

“Later,” Ellie said, sinking back into the sofa and patting her lap, a silent invitation for Freddie to rejoin her. 

Today, maybe. But not yet.

// 1 PM //

“Oh! It’s just past one!” Alyn exclaimed.

Ominis blinked. Time tended to slip by when he was with Alyn; she had that effect on him. It was a bit unnerving. Welcome, but unnerving. 

They were still lounging on the sofa, lost in conversation, drinks long consumed, when Alex and Cassie made their extremely tardy entrance. 

“Are we late?” Alex said.

Cassie said through a yawn, “Where is everyone?”

“Hello,” Ominis said, waving in the direction of the sound of their voices, “we’re everyone.” 

“Har har,” Alex replied, but he must have been distracted by something because the tone and volume of his voice changed abruptly. He shouted, “Oooo, Cassie, look! Pastries!”

That explained that then. 

Though the pastries had more than likely gone cold by now, the muffled chewing and hum of satisfaction from Alex told Ominis all he needed to know.

Cassie plopped down onto the sofa next to Alyn. “So, what have you two been chatting about?”

“Everything,” Alyn said. There was a mischievous lilt in her tone that Ominis caught easily. “As you’d expect.” 

“Everything, hm?” Ominis raised an eyebrow. “I’m not so sure about that, but I do appreciate the vote of confidence in my conversational skills.” 

“Everyone knows you’re the person to come to for all Hogwarts-related gossip.”

“Is that so?” Ominis asked, keeping his tone casual. He knew it, of course, but it was always more fun to play coy when the topic came up. 

Before anyone could respond, Alex’s heavy footsteps came from behind, followed by a squeal, as he, presumably, grabbed Cassie from the sofa. 

Alyn burst into a fit of giggles. “I think that means you have to kiss him, Cass,” she said once she managed to stifle her laughter. 

Ah, Alex must have found some mistletoe, Ominis thought, tilting his head in amusement. 

Cassie said, “I don’t need mistletoe as an excuse to kiss you, my love.”

“Mmph,” Alex replied, the sound smothered as he was likely being kissed. 

Speaking of kissing, one day soon—perhaps even today—Ominis would muster up the courage to kiss Alyn.

You know what? Yes, today was going to be the day. What was that Muggle saying? Ah yes, carpe diem. Seize the day, indeed. 

MCs mentioned:

matty & cal & silas by @girl-named-matty ; freddie by @freddiestheproblemchild ; ellie by @accio-bagel ; tori by @espressoristretto-patronum ; alyn by @ps-cactus ; ale & val by @savingsallow ; jo by @ravenwind-75 ; alex & cassie by @acslytherpuff; florence & jaimsen by @leaping-toadstool-caps ; damien (mine) <3

[superman-the-secret-third-thing]

Ah, the vanity of Golden Age Lois

what a queen

Source: Superman #70 "Lois Lane Meets Annie Oakley!" (1951) by writer Alvin Schwartz & artist Wayne Boring

[azol-otl]

Okay, I gotta ask about the normalsonas lol

This is actually a wip I think will be a wip for a long while cause it's like. Too meaty for me at the moment but I'll get to the level needed eventually.

Okay so the context for this is that Jason and Tim (who are not in a relationship) are undercover as a young married couple Alvin Draper and Daniel "Danny" Cruz and get way too enveloped in their characters. Especially since unlike Tim and Jason, Alvin and Danny are allowed to be more vulnerable and open with their emotions.

The room is filled with breathy grunt and moans. The wet slap of skin a steady cadence as Danny thrusts into his husband. "Ah, ah— Da—Danny..." come the mouthwatering groans from under him. Danny loves it. Everything about this. He loves the weight in his heart and the desire that grows in him when Alvin lets go like this. It had scared him before, this monstrous need inside him. The hunger inside of him that wished to devour his husband. To lap at his sweat, to drink in the sounds coming from his mouth, to rip a hole into his husband so he can live inside him the way his husband has become the beating in Danny's chest. It always felt like too much. This craving. Just one more second. One more touch. Please, please he can quit when he wants but just give him more. Alvin's left hand sliders over Danny's and their fingers entwine, the metal of their rings, something both of them try their hardest to never take off, making a small clink. Alvin's stretches back, his head turning to see Danny's eyes and the thrumming of Danny's chest crescendos as his heart looks at him with a knowing smile. Alvin raises his right hand and wipes at Danny's face, brushing tears he hadn't felt fall. "My big crybaby," Alvin says, voice fond. "You know I can't help it," Danny defends weakly. He's always had emotions too big for his body.

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

hello! i have a request for 'SbITILYP', if you don't mind. how about the reader trying to do something for hiccup to impress him/show him that she likes him? hiccup has been doing a lot of things for the reader so I think it'd be cute seeing the reader awkwardly attempt to do the same :)

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 28

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 1110

Things come to a simple end.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, final part, half-fill

<Previous - First>

“I’m surprised it went this smooth,” Stoick grumbled, voice hollow with distance, “With Alvin-... I’d expect something from Hiccup, at least. That boy…”

“He’s ‘Too busy, eh?” Gobber asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, grunting and hopping as he did it, reattaching his prosthetic to his leg nub, “Prolly been off mackin’ on tha’ girlfriend o’ his.”

Right… Alvin.

“Ah,” Hiccup was flushed, rubbing his neck and brushing against already messy hair, “Yeah, I forgot about that…”

Toothless was around somewhere.

He glanced to the side, where you stood, equally embarrassed and mussed, shoulders hunched slightly, very red in the face.

You shifted in your skirts, resisting the urge to use your boot to scratch at the back of your thigh, which had been itchy for a little while, since you brushed up against some plant walking back from the forest.

You were just around the corner from Hiccup’s Dad -a bright and heavily painted corner; turns out his whole ‘painting the houses’ thing caught on, which meant a lot less of things burning down- though he wasn’t sure if you’d heard.

All the talk of criminal executions was depressing, though you missed it, lost in the puppy-love haze phase of your new relationship. Still, it was kind of a bummer. It was for the best that Alvin was gone, though. Less danger in that for you too -not just the riders or Stoick or anything else.

You hoped it didn’t bum Hiccup out too bad. You noticed it had been getting him down, and you’d done your best.

Your fingers curled together, hooked securely and delicately to his by the fingerpads, and you and Hiccup stood close enough that you could feel his body heat through his tunic though not yet enough for the two of you to be touching by the arm.

You’d just gotten back from a successful trip to the glowing algae pool.

His vest was slightly displaced and you were both sure he’d lost a bead or two.

In one hand you held the little Fireworm, wrapped in a carefully made chainmail blanket -it was hard to come up with something that wouldn’t pinch skin or scales- also wrapped in a layer of leather so that you could hold it comfortably. 

It squirmed slightly. 

He scuffed his prosthetic slightly, recently oiled, recently reforged with treads beaten into the bottom, which did a lot to help with gripping wet wood while you were walking hand-in-hand around Berk.

You wore a red tunic -his, really, he’d lent it to you again after you’d gotten some muck on yours- and a string of your own beads on leather cord tied around your neck, something Hiccup had picked nonchalantly from the forge and used to help make you a necklace. 

He’d tried to make you a bead once, but he wasn’t much of an artisan. 

“I mean, me too,” You huffed, feather swaying as you shifted, attached to a stick like a pom-pom on one end of a cat toy, “We’ve been busy with other things, though- Not like what Gobber said- I mean, you know…”

Hiccup nodded, though he was still looking forward. This was all still super new for the both of you.

 It would feel that way for a while.

You were still in disbelief- it was a wonder to you why he and Astrid didn’t pair up before. 

He traced the collar of his scarf slightly as Sharpshot lolled lazily by your feet, slightly wet and glow-ey by his lower half whenever he teased the shade with his tail. 

You knew Hiccup was bummed Devastated that the Screaming Death had destroyed all his hard work -a good deal of the things he’d built up in the village for you, though with some hard work and dirt pushed under your fingernails it had been fixed up pretty easy.

He seemed happier now. It hadn’t really been something you’d planned but you’d distracted him somewhat- your relationship was still very, very new, still.

And you made him a gift.

You’d tried crafting again. It was very scratchy and you’d definitely not done a very good job making sure the whole thing was even but it was a nice fading rainbow, the yarn dyed in all the colors in Roy G. Biv in darker, neutral tones.

“Looks like you fixed things right up, ‘Dragon Master,’” You stuck out your tongue at him, looking smug.

It -the scarf- covered the bottom of Hiccup’s chin. It didn’t really fit him but he wore it with pride, which made something flutter around in your guts in a way that was almost uncomfortable.

You predicted it would be around a week before he took it off.

Hiccup had unintentionally returned the favor. You got a satchel from him, small and attached to a belt with norse knots imprinted around the edges, sown neatly together. It was sort of like a fanny pack but with more buckles and also cool.

“Did you really have to use that?” Hiccup said, leaning his head towards you momentarily.

Sharpshot churr-ed in the squawky squeaky way only a terror could, blinking up at the feather attached to your hip as you adjusted your hand in Hiccup’s.

The small Fireworm in your other hand blinked beadily as it sometimes very rarely did.

“It is tacky,” You admitted, though that was definitely why you used it, “But you did a good enough job to deserve it, not that you have to do anything to deserve things.”

You gently bumped into him with your hip.

And he did a great job. Berk was back to how it was just before the Screaming Death -most of the roses ended up being fine, and the plants that were lost were easily replaced and reinforced by spiked metal fences and wooden pikes.

You’d also added a few new planters. Many of the houses stationed under ramps were popular real estate now for metal tins for glowing mushroom growing, which you knew there many new homeowners were proud of, not just because of the fact that it made them a lot of money.

The mushrooms were great for paint making and the extra roofing kept dragons from jumping over houses and messing with tiling.

It was heavy maintenance, but they were all Vikings. For a modern girl like you, you found it was all worth it, if not just for the convenience.

Living on Berk was rough, but it was good and different now. Even with all the Outcasts and the dragons and the hunters and everything else missing.

And you were happy. 

And maybe Hiccup’s crush hadn’t ended up being so onesided after all.

[ducktracy]

i am very averse to "look at how much this thing sucks. let me shove said sucky thing in your face and laugh at how it sucks and cultivate an environment of suckiness" posting but the reaction to this i'm having is so severe and making my head explode that i have to share it. likewise because it doubles as an excuse to post a Good Thing alongside with it.

i just stumbled upon the Alvin's Harmonica segment from The Alvin Show and I LOVE ITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT IT'S SO CUTE AND CHARMING. i like that Alvin tortures Dave even in his subconscious like some sort of horrible inverse of Jiminy Cricket. love the layout work and everything about this is extremely charming

and so now, having instilled that Goodness into your brains, i now ask you to look at this instead which got recommended to me. WHAT DID THEY DOOOOOOOOOOO TO THEMMMMMMMMMMMMM. THIS IS MAKING MY SKIN CRAWL. WHY DO THEY SOUND LIKE THAT. WHY ARE SIMON AND THEODORE MAD, IN THE ORIGINAL THEY ARE GLEEFULLY COMPLACENT IN ALVIN'S ANTICS AS THEY SHOULD BE. AH!!!!!! AND THE RAPPING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! seriously making my skin crawl i'm going to sob

i. oh my goodness. for the record i am not Genuinely outraged at this Good Chipmunk Erasure because that would be even more stupid than the above clip. but this just elicited such a violently bewildered and shocked reaction out of me and appeals perfectly to my cartoon masochism in that i absolutely eat up stuff that makes me go "WTF" that i had to share. this is making me hyper from how. whatever this is. i hate it and its existence is so funny to me #NOTMYALVIN

[cirilee]

So why did the Hive make thinking machines? And Drones? Seems like a waste of time, when you could just make a crap ton of unthinking machines. For pecks sake, what is the Point of all this, unless the Masters are just that much of petty gits. At the same time, how did the earth get stripped of an Atmostpehere. I dont think Climate change does that.

Ah, yeah the thing is: the Hive doesn't make sentient machines. Alvin, Mia and every other inorganic that develops consciousness is a big accident, that usually gets corrected :'(

And the initial humans living in the Hive (formerly just known as big emergency bunker), were slowly made into the drones like they're appearing in the comic - if the Hive's purpose is to preserve human life, then you can't just swap out every person with a robot. But if a lot of humans in one tiny space are given free will - there's gonna be problems :'D

The Hive is centuries old, and currently this is the most stable form it ever took on: drones, trained at birth to be obedient, kept happy by mindless task and meaningless acchievements (credits) - helped by mindless robots who do the really uncomfortable things that even drones would get tired of eventually (theoretically)

And climate change ... oh man the least of our worries will be the atmosphere. It is definitely not good for it! :'D

AHHH but omg thank you for the questions!! we put a lot of thought into the worldbuilding, i love opportunities to ramble :D :D

if you're confused about all of this, here's a link to our comic artificial idiocy :D

[deadsetobsessions]

Okay, so maybe Tim has no business being in Bludhaven. Tim maintains that since his parents fail at parenting, he can do whatever he wants.

Besides, it's for a good cause. Like, not letting Tarantula get her dirty hands on his big brother in another time line. Tarantula had popped up in the Bludhaven servers - by that, Tim means the endless amounts of threads and underground fronts for criminal activity that he stalks on a regular basis- by being seen with Nightwing. Tim had immediately booked a ride to Bludhaven and bought another burner. He'd try to take care of her himself, but if worse comes to worse, he'd call Deathstroke. He's totally aware of the weird tension Deathstroke has with Nightwing and Tim's kind of banking on that.

Dick's been back in Blud for two months now, Jason having assuaged his mother hen tendencies enough for Dick to get sick of the Manor. Tim hadn't meant to follow since he had plenty of projects to work on now that "SAVE JASON" wasn't blaring at the top of his head.

But then Tarantula appeared and Tim saw red, remembering the way Dick spoke about her and what she did to him.

He bids the driver goodbye. The driver doesn't question his being on his lonesome mainly because 1) Gothamites mind their own busines, 2) Tim gave him a $500 tip to make sure he remains a "good" Gothamite cabbie, and 3) Tim made sure he was dropped off in the swankiest, most ostentatious hotel Bludhaven had to offer.

"Rich people," the cab driver had muttered as Tim closed the door. Perfect.

Tim got his keycard, having checked in under Alvin Draper over the phone. Normally, they'd require an in person visit, but money talks. And people listened when Tim had a lot of things to say.

Tim even feels like he's trained enough to go out! Lady Shiva's training was ingrained into his memory, and Tim's built enough muscle to make use of some of it. He is still nine, after all. He's so much stealthier this time around. Plus, he's got almost his full tool set back. Sure, some of the tech is ancient, but he managed to finagle it to make grappling guns and smoke pellets more along the quality that he's used to.

Tim waits until nightfall, looping the surveillance around his window to mask his exit. Tim adjusts his domino, eyes scanning the city skyline as his handheld computer (god, he can't believe he has to invent wrist computers) tracked reports of Nightwing through Tweetings.

Ah. He's around Seventh. Tim grimaces as his untested joints adjusts to the grappling guns. His dark clothes make him hard to spot, to his advantage as he tracks down Nightwing.

Tim watches, perched on an adjacent roof as Nightwing takes down a crowd of goons with the flips Tim remembered watching from afar and up close in another timeline.

"Blockbuster'll kill everyone you love, Nightwing!"

Tim winces at the rather brutal crunch that followed, Nightwing having punched the guy and knocked him out in one move. He watches Dick sigh, tugging at his hair in stress.

Tim could... no, no. He shouldn't think of murder as a first option. Well, no, he shouldn't think of Deathstroke as a first option. But he'll need to take Blockbuster out before anything happens. And he needs to threaten the new Tarantula before anything happens. He won't allow her to even get close to Dick.

Maybe it's unfair to punish her for a crime she hasn't done, but unlike murder, rape can never be defended. Catalina Flores is a dead woman walking.

Tim stalks his big brother back home and then broke off to begin his short reign of terror over Bludhaven's underground. If he can't get Dick to take a break (and Tim's tried, a lot, over the years) then he'll make sure that the next month is as gentle as possible on his older brother.

Step 1. Murder Take care of Blockbuster

Step 2. Threaten Catalina Flores and her brother.

No. Wait. Tim has a better idea. He's got dirt on them, on top of the murder thing. He'll fabricate Catalina's tax returns, embezzle a shit ton of money from the IRS, and get her and her corrupt brother (because getting your sister out from murder charges is considered corrupt) arrested and locked away. And he'll make sure they stay locked away with some good old blackmail on Amanda Waller.

Tim grins, tranquilizing the building with an ungodly amount of knock out gas pellets, to riffle through the police precinct's files.

Step 2. Threaten Catalina Flores and her brother.

Step 2. Cripple Catalina Flores and her brother with blackmail and the IRS.

In three hours, Tim has everything he needs to begin a temporary hostile takeover. He's got the names of local mob bosses, the big players, and the names of practically every police officer that takes bribes and their... sponsors.

He'll have to cut off Blockbuster's lines of supplies first. Then, blacklist him from local suppliers, mobilize the police precinct against him (by imitating his M.O. perfectly- Tim's not a fucking amateur- and pretending to rob the precinct blind), and then break his knees.

Step 3. Profit

Tim takes out his shiny new burner phone, enjoying the loud sounds of the police squawking through his planted bugs. He lounges on the building next to it, keeping an eye out for Nightwing just in case the man decides to respond to the crisis.

[Unknown: It's RR.]

[Deathstroke: New phone?]

[RR: Who dis?]

[Deathstroke: What?]

[RR: Nevermind. I'll give you forty thousand to shoot someone's knees out.]

[Deathstroke:... That's it? Who?]

[RR: Blockbuster. Bludhaven. Extra twenty thousand if you tell him he's got the spine of a sea slug, kick him in the balls, and post it on Tweeting.]

[Deathstroke: What did he do to you? Deal.]

Tim ignored Deathstroke's question.

[RR: Half sent. Confirm?]

[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Timeline?]

[RR: Three weeks. 21 days.]

[Deathstroke: Confirmed.]

----

Tim grins ferally, all teeth as Catalina Flores looked on in horror at her computer screen.

"Get out of Bludhaven, and don't come back. If you even think of going near Nightwing, I will rip what's left of your pathetic, sniveling swine of a brother apart. You will not enjoy the consequences."

Tim clicks off, watching Catalina and her brother launch themselves into mad packing. He tapped out a short message to Amanda Waller for her and her team to intercept them at the state lines. They'll never get away from Tim's fury. Never.

[Waller: It's done.]

[Waller: I will find you.]

[RR: You can definitely try, Waller. Good doing business with you.]

Tim can see the blood vessel the woman popped after he sent that last message. He laughs.

He saves Deathstroke's video from Tweeting onto his actual, spoofed phone. He destroys the burner phone, less shiny now that he's dragged it through two and a half weeks of breaking heads and terrorizing the Bludhaven Underground. Nightwing hadn't even gotten a whiff of his activities, this Dick being far less experienced and known in this version of Blud.

One more week and Tim can continue his other projects.

----

Nightwing, going about his vigilante business: wow it sure is peaceful

Feral Tim Drake, Nightwing's scary dog privilege: try me, bitch

[teresalace]

"I won't cry for you" - Yandere Tyler Galpin x Female Reader PART 3

•Part 1 •Part 2

Words: 1699

Warnings: Mentions of torture, psychology, dysfunction yet healthy family relations if you squint.

Show: Wednesday (2022)

Summary: You've graciously or stupidly, granted Tyler a phone to call his father for whatever reason he had while you went to call yours for assistance. And since you weren't fully knowledgeable about Hydes, you contacted the only person you knew, who wasn't in prison, that had that knowledge. Your father, Alvin Gates.

• •

🥺 Sorryyyy this took forever a lot of months, planned to post this at February but got sick and many stuff happened, preparing for an interview :--D but am back in my writing mojo!/kinda, HAPPY HALLOWEEN) AND I HEARD season 2 is coming omggg I'm excited

————

"Well, well, well~ If it isn't the sweet consequence of my actions with your mother." A voice unmistakably grouchy speaks, sounding jovial with every word out.

A quick glance to your locked bedroom door before you finally said a response into the cellphone.

"You sound well, father." You mildly greeted, a tinge of a smile in your voice. To think it's almost only been a month since the last call.

"Yeah yeah it's been a while but cut the chitchat, sweetie, what do you need helping with?" You could imagine an eyeroll as your father said, always cutting to the chase.

"About Hydes." You spared no other detail and maintained calm articulation. Not that you needed to be careful with him, thankfully.

For more precaution, it's better if not even your own father knows about Tyler being in the house. You didn't want things to get out of hand.

"Ah- what about them? Did something happen that isn't supposed to–" Suddenly silence overtook the line, a thoughtful humming until he spoke again. "Don't get yourself into any unfamiliar territory, kid. That's suppose to be your mother's speciality."

So he noticed, of course he did. Better leave that to his wandering imagination than spoil your plan. A very non-existent plan at the moment.

"I don't plan to. Father, I was just curious since I kept hearing about them." True, that wasn't a lie in the slightest. "I was wondering if you'd know anything about them."

Surely he must know something.

"Hmm, you heard it from someone, no doubt. . . Alright, alright. What do you want to know exactly, kid. I'll tell ya as much as I can afford to." Sounds like mother has been keeping tabs on him.

"Hydes obey only one master, their own, correct?" You continued when father hummed a helpful tune, "would it be possible to sever the ties between a Hyde and its master."

A pause in-between your father's breathing left you suspended.

"Well. . . Got bad news for you kid, I don't know any available methods for that." He sighed gruffy like he felt bad, "sorry but can't help you with the whole severing business. It's set in stone, pretty much."

"I see. . . " You massaged your temples, disappoinment rising inside you. But you couldn't just accept this answer easily, stubbornness seemed to take hold in your heart. For what reason? You couldn't figure out.

"However–" A hoarse chuckle emerged from your cellphone. "It's not entirely impossible to say there aren't other ways of solving that problem. I'm sure you can get some creative ideas from their origins, kid. Only one thing is set in stone, Hydes only serve one master."

Father's bold hint sparked a lightbulb in your head. Their origins.

In the first place, what caused Hydes to bond an undying loyalty to their masters was–

"Sorry for not being alot of help, kid, I'm out of time for the day. Take good care of yourself, will you."

"I will." A buzz of excitement slowly crept over you as an idea began running through your mind. "You were very helpful, dad, thanks. You take care too."

"Mm sounds like you found an answer eh?" He sounded genuinely happy, making you feel much more sturdy in this new plan.

"Not exactly but I should be on the right track." If Tyler would go along with it.

"Mm so you're going to try any attempts, I see. Hah– it's hilarious how similar you and your mother's thinking is!"

Again with the comparisons. You rolled your eyes, "Goodbye, father."

"Alright alright, see ya kiddo. For now." BEEP. BEEP.

The call was over already.

.  .  .

You turned off the burner phone, picking out the block of battery from the back and saving it in your other hiding space for another time. Now you should check on Tyler, you can't afford to trust him so easily especially when his father's a sheriff. 

Quietly you went out of your bedroom, closing the door slowly so as to not make a sound. You headed down the stairs in a casual, fast pace to quickly see his state of mind.

But it's likely he isn't planning to screw himself over... Your assumption was most likely made correct when you came to see Tyler sitting slumped on the couch, his face buried deep in his hands. 

Sweeping your gaze across the living room and floor, the burner phone you gave him was nowhere in sight… Mentally noting to check the trash bin by the kitchen before you stomped down the stairs and made yourself known.

Tyler's eyes peeked up first from the gaps in-between his fingers like the leafy venus flytraps back home ever so often tempting you to closer inspect. To place your finger in there, to feed. 

He waited on your next move.

Your arms folded, hiding your hands twitching on their own for a tweezer. "Did you have a good talk?" 

What else could you really say without sounding too interested in him. 

"It was something…" Tyler did a small shrug, less energy than he's shown before, voice dulled by the cover of his fingers. "Could've gone better. I wish he didn't hang up so fast."

"What did you talk about?" Might as well see how much information he was willing to give.

A small sigh, Tyler slowly revealed half of his distraught face. "Not a lot. He wasn't interested in what I had to say… Told me to be careful." Strange of the dutiful sheriff to say but then again you didn't know what kind of father-son relationship they had.

"How are you feeling?" One of mother's favourite lines growing up that you've somehow adapted into your vocabulary. It seemed the most appropriate.

You continued watching Tyler's tensed form with a safe but short distance away, the coffee table acting as a possible shield in between you and him. Incase he raged.

But there was none.

There was something in his usual silence this time that irked you. Like he didn't fully trust you. 

You approved of that, as he shouldn't. Mutually. Especially if things ever go wrong because of him, you were ready at a moment's notice to abandon everything to do with him. 

"I… Hate him." 

The pause went on for however many tensed seconds before Tyler's hands fell onto his knees.

"Sorry sorry, I know I shouldn't be saying this… I mean I can't say I don't miss him." 

"You can say what you want. I don't mind," you said flatly, genuinely meaning it. His expressions stiff, he looked mentally pent up, thoughts practically steaming out from his ears.

"No, it's fine. You've done a lot for me already, I owe you." He grinned brightly, the dark cloud looming over from before gone in an instant, "for that phone call too."

"Sure," it wouldn't be bad to have a Hyde indebted to you.

Tyler checked the ticking clock on the kitchen wall, "I guess it is getting late… See you in the morning?"

You nodded. "Night, Galpin." 

"G-Good night! Have a good sleep." He smiled dopey, waving briskly while walking backwards to the foot of the stairs before jogging up to his bedroom. So naturally at home.

Just how eager was he to get back in his room?

 That wasn't his usual way of walking, what could he be looking forward to or hiding in there… Or he could just be relieved of stress after that talk with his father, maybe that brought about his new behavior.

Your suspicions were beginning to sound far-fetched even to yourself but then again, there was always that silver of possibility that he could be planning to rebel against you. 

So you moved fast towards the kitchen sink, tiny spikes of uneasiness pulsing through you, turning the facuet on and letting the water run loudly as you went to look into the trash bin.

Expecting to look down into a void of nothingness.

The large black plastic bag sleeved over the edge of the bin looked loose and puffy. Clearly you didn't do this, your meticulousness wouldn't allow such a lazy set up. You pat down the puffy areas, flattening the edges to allow better access in seeing what trash had been collected.

Shiny peices of black metal greet you at the bottom of the pit, tiny and almost powder-like glitter in the kitchen light. What previously used to be a burner phone now looked like the result of being in someone's clenched fist. Useful monsterous strength… if he could actually get it under his full control.

Whatever anxiety crept inside your heart disappeared as you contently spun on your heel and turned off the kitchen faucet. 

A small appreciation for Tyler as thanks to him, there's less work for you now.

You wondered why you even felt 'anxious' at all, it must've been the slight stress of knowing he could've screwed things up for you. And himself. Now that makes sense, of course since it's not as if you actually knew him personally even back in town. 

Feeling much more at peace, you headed towards your own bedroom, adjacent from Tyler's. His room barely made any noise except for the few inaudible mumbles and the faint use of his shower and the light peeking through from underneath his door. 

You never noticed before but he always had the lights turned on in there. Well, it's not as if you were the one paying the electrical bill. It was nothing noteworthy.

Once settling in your own bed and underneath your blanket in the cozy dark, sleep came easily… Until your brain jostled an interesting observation your very eyes must've slipped. 

In the trash bin, there was no sight of the small black piece. The memory card. 

The sim card. 

Despite his questionable actions, you chose to sleep, thoughts racing alongside a strange excitement building up in you. 

Oh what are you up to, Tyler Galpin.

Time was ticking. Neither on his or your side. He just didn't know it yet.

In the following morning you received a misscall from an unknown number. Father. He never contacts you first. There's nothing he needs that you could provide. It must be about the Hyde. 

Finally.

[ronniegonzayt]

Insanity meets DEADLY insanity!

Barnaby: "Woooooo-hoo-hoo-hooooo! The most AWFUL party guest has arrived!"

Awful Alvin: "Lampy?! What did you do to him?!"

Barnaby: "Oh, you love my new party decoration? It's to DIE FOR! AH-HOO-HOO-HOO-HOOOOOO!"

[terrapin-might]

Since you drew the turtles as the Alvin and the Chipmunks, How about the 87 boys as the Scooby Doo gang?

Ah yes the TMNT otherwise known as the Teenage Mystery Noir(?) Turtles

I think this an adorable idea, a Scooby Doo AU would be perfect for the turtles, especially 87!

There were supposed to be other doodles but I've been cursed with "coloring-my-art-takes-too-long—itis" and also diagnosed with "I-must-color-this-drawing-or-it's not-done" syndrome. Luckily the second one only applies with digital art. So I'll reblog when I finish those later, it's mostly just memes tho

Anyway here's the Mystery Ninjas (and April!)

(please click for better quality)

I was supposed to post this yesterday but as I said I'm very bad at posting 😞

Thanks for the ask! I'm still taking requests right now if you guys have any ideas but clearly it will take me a while to get to them. I still appreciate them and I will get to them though that is a promise.

[milkmemes]

CHEESE GOLD PART 1

Sentence starters of varying degrees. Platonic // Romantic // Suggestive. Change pronouns as you see fit.

"Are you saying Santa is hot?" "What would that even look like?" "Can't believe that came out today." "Why did Santa come out?" "I don't know if that's very poggers. I don't know about that." “I’m not a sugar mommy, but I do have a job." "You took care of my son. thank you, frog." "There's this cotton candy flavoring I want to get so I can have cotton candy flavored milk." "You should feel bad." "I had quite a performance last night…" "HE'S A BARD! HE'S A BARD!" “Oh I hate my dad.” "Who needs Charles Darwin when [Name] gives you the better theories." "I'm honestly glad the game didn't white wash my babies." "I just didn't know anyone would want you." "I don’t believe in hamsters." "KILL!!!! KILL SASUKE!!!" "Oh I fruited." "DON'T DRINK WATER WHEN YOU TALK TO ME BITCH! I'M FUNNY AS FUCK, LET THAT BE A LESSON TO YOU!" "DON'T DRINK WATER WHEN YOU TALK TO ME BITCH!" "I'M FUNNY AS FUCK, LET THAT BE A LESSON TO YOU!" "You think I need you??" "Why are you a man" "Don't tell me to be quiet" "Where are my friends? One's dead and in my pocket." “[Name], Give him some juice as you look up to the sky” "I wanted him to stay little forever!…Now he a little freak...It's ok.." "That's not girlbossing, that's girlstupid" "In Florida we say 'your problem' " "I want to play with the fucking monkey. ooh ooh ah ah monkey" "If Alvin and the Chipmunks has taught me anything, if you get scratched by a werewolf, you become a werewolf" "A present for me? For lil me? lil [Name]? God. What has [Name] done to me." "If you're sneepy, we can do a sneepy" "You were a cringe baby with no parents" "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just want to say, me yelling? That's not who I am." "The lesbian flag.. I almost said the Listerine Flag" "I'm the Listerine Flag" "How cringefail can I make this man? I can make him gender.." "Mmm.. the children yearn for the mines." "Man, that brings back memories of being a young little chocolate kiss." "I'm better than you because I don't run. You could never be me." "I didn't defuse the pride month!! I didn't!!!" "I'm goofy, but I'm right. I like watching the chaos unfold." "You're a hamster. You're not on my team. We don't claim you." "Life is a highway and I want it my way" "Fuck you, love you, bye" "I roleplay a little freak" "He's just vulnerable, he's an artist that's just how they work" "Oh you're a little freak. I love you." "I NEVER ATE IT, I licked it, once..." "A little help, I think I got rabies." "You can't say Joker from Fire Emblem around me" “This is a no judgement free zone” "Not me bald and dying in front of you" "They call me Texas." “Hi I’m bullshit, would you like to do something?” "How am I supposed to love and peace in these conditions when everyone else just wants to talk about cock?!" "Cock crimes should land you the death penalty and I stand by that." “Has this ever happened to you? Too many knives in your puss?” "If she's sexy that's god's will." "I don't think about it. If I'm sexy that's god's will." "I'm leaving my cage." "Aren't you a child? Maybe find something else to do." "Oh, you know. I wake up everyday and put one sock on at a time like everyone else." "I'm drinking TV static." "Would you love [Name] if he were a worm?" "From bot to hot, let's get it." "Oh to feel the girlish whimsy of psychological horror." "Sorry, I'm maxed out on my friends list." "I don't get my materials from the Bible. The Bible gets it from me." "You're laughing?!" "You conditioned me like a little Pavlov Dog and you're laughing?!" "You sound like you're just jestering for your evil king, [Name]. But do it again, you're jingling miserably across the floor, now do it with more whimsy." "Jingle more, fool." "I just love the thrill of farming." "No bombs?" "It's funny. I'm funny." "You're small in theory. You should be 5'6" or below I'm sorry but I do make the rules. You should be shorter, I hate that you're tall." "You are a strange creature."