#also started writing again...

[eridan-ampora]

i love it when characters are codependent. i love it when losing someone feels like losing a limb. i love it when two people "complete" each other so wholly and terribly that one can barely function without the other. i love it when the fear of losing the only person who understands them is so all-consuming they'll destroy anything to stay together, including themselves.

[prlssprfctn]

Cryptid!Alfred, who is actually immortal. Like, he cannot die for forever - he did once, during the war, and after that... for some reason, he kept coming back, completely without any additional magical help. He sometimes dies again, and then mysteriously comes back on the next morning, as if nothing happened. Bruce used to it at some point, so instead of asking questions (Alfred has no answers, anyway) he just pretends that it is normal. He gaslights kids to think the same. Like, what do you mean he died, Damian? No, he is alrightish. Look in the kitchen, he is making us breakfast. It probably was just a bad dream.

So, when Jason dies and gets back? Oh, Alfred knows his grandson has the same curse/blessing. Because it wasn't the Lazarus Pit that brought Jason back after all, but some strange, unexplainable force. Perhaps, both of them are just bound to end up as guardians, as warriors and protectors - that's why they keep coming back.

...Nevertheless, it doesn't make their family less... anxious about the whole thing. These two from the other side? Oh, they absolutely enjoy their immortal hang-out hours.

Jason: What was your funniest death?

Alfred: I am going to say... that one time, when I was teaching young master Bruce using a hunting rifle, and he accidentally shot me. I came back in fifteen minutes, and, of course, a poor thing was sobbing, but afterwards he was doing all chores for a month. Wonderful days.

Jason: Damn, poor Brucie... My funniest gotta be that one time, when Roy and I got drunk, and I legit jumped off the building because I thought I can fly. Roy had never got sober that quick.

(The first time Jason dies on the family's watch)

Dick, sobbing: Alfred... Alfred... He died! His neck was snapped! How can I live-

Alfred, casually leaning to snap Jason's neck again: Wake up, my boy.

Jason, dramatically gasping for air: Damn, who made me a massage, while I was sleeping?

Tim: What. The. Fuck.

[xandrikart]

[astearisms]

fionna and cake drawings before and after watching the episodes so far. it’s nostalgic and somehow cathartic and poignant and relatable and—it just started

[cacaocheri]

DAYDREAMERS IS BACK!!!!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65451913/chapters/168457666

HEELLLLOOOO TUMBLR!!!!!!! I've been hit by the writing inspiration truck and decided to finally revisit my fic, daydreamers!!! ITS BEEN SO LONGGGGGG

this IS a rewrite! which means I'm starting everything over from scratch!!! while very special to me, the original set up of daydreamers didn't give me a lot of wiggle room for what I wanted to do as an author (and also its been such a long time that my goals changed since I started)

but yes!!! please enjoy :^)))

[oifaaa]

It's very funny seeing people genuinly think the writer of the apothecary diaries hates Jinshi just bc she drew maomao pushing him off a cliff like come on now that's not hate that's just how you treat annoying characters if you like them or not

[remcadll]

Gen obsessed with how.. *dead* your Jason's color pallete is. Like, that's corpse pale right there. Not a spec of blood left flowing in there (also father Todd's skin being full of color in comparison is a nice touch)

THANK YOU I love making him look a bit ghoulish. Guy who's not supposed to be alive but yes he is. no he isn't <3

[sihbisu]

binge read reprogrammed n decoded by @littlecrittereli a few days ago :3

its very neat -u-

so made fanart :D

SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 6 OF REPROGRAMMED

TW BLOOD, PANICKNG

(The blood part is brief with only a lil bit on the 1st page, there's nothing super graphic but just a lil heads up)

Please be safe <3

[keferon]

OKAY OH MY GOD THIS FIC IS GREAT I HAVE ONLY READ THREE AND A HALF CHAPTERS AND IM ALREADY IN LOVE

I originally wanted to make both of these pieces in color but I’m gonna be honest I have no fucking idea how to draw Ricochet…he is described as black and red and…mmhhmmm does he have canonical (canonical for this fic I mean) design? Do I need to design him myself? Idk I’ll figure this out later

[goozeghost]

Private SecUnit Time (no humans allowed!)

(Theyre having an amazing time)

[americanmoths]

extreme home makeover

“Your father deserves a second Dementor’s Kiss just for buying that piece-of-shit vase,” Harry says in hour six of an intense argument with Draco, when he’s exchanged his legitimate gripes for pettier weapons.

Draco huffs. “Confrigo.” The vase explodes.

Right on schedule: Hour six is usually when they stop fighting with words at all.

“Bombarda!” “Protego!” “Incendio! INCENDIO!”

The curtains catch on fire.

When Harry first started sleeping with Draco, Draco had matching houndstooth-patterned furniture. His ottoman had gone first, after Draco met Harry’s conventionally attractive (male) Auror partner. Then the love seat, because Harry learned Draco’s mother didn’t know they were dating. Then the couch and the coffee table and the chandelier, when Draco told Harry he loved him and Harry hadn’t immediately said it back.

“Fuck you! Those drapes were handmade and imported and—uh!” Harry pulls Draco against him, both of them breathing hard, their bodies ready for hour seven of the argument, when they always find more pleasurable uses for anger and adrenaline. But first:

“Your living room looks like a battlefield, and you don’t have much furniture left.” Harry says. “Move in with me?”

--

for @drarrymicrofic prompt: inhale | on ao3

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[fairydrowning]

in order to live a happy life, you must romanticize everything (and see a good therapist).

[dream-a-dream-for-me]

not edited, just need to cup art donaldson's face while he fucks you. pretty boy would nuzzle his cheek against your palm. the second you begin praising him, he can't hold back the tears in watery eyes, feeling them slip down his face, staining his cheeks. the tip of his nose would turn pink, hearing his little sniffles while he gently bucks his hips up into you.

whenever you tell him he's good, or how much you love him, he hiccups out the most pathetic, sad, soft little "yeah?" while staring up at you desperately, needing your validation to live. pulling your wrist to his mouth, kissing up your arm, whimpering into your skin, squeezing his eyes shut as he lets more tears fall.

[chimerafeathers]

i know we love to rag on Siffrin for feeling so miserably guilty and manipulative for the crime of [checks notes] “doing nice things for their friends so that they’ll be happy and care about him even if it’s not perfectly sincere on his end”

but like. in context i don’t think that thought process is anywhere near as nonsensical as it always sounds written out like that

i’m sure i’m just stating the obvious here but it’s not really about the “crime” of making people happy. it’s about what he’s not doing, which is anything that would allow their friends to have any real knowledge or agency over the situation they’re all in.

it’s about never acting according to his real feelings in the moment and letting them see the messier version of him that exists now, never allowing their relationships to evolve or develop meaningfully beyond the “safest” iteration, the thing that is Known and produces the Correct Results, because anything else has the possibility of leading to negative emotions towards Siffrin.

Siffrin knows he’s not really doing all this for their benefit, not entirely, because the “right” thing to do would give them the full context to choose how they feel and what to do about it. they’re happy, but in a way they don’t get to keep. they’re happy, but in a way that keeps Siffrin safe from anything more complex and real. they’re happy, but only because some Siffrin in the past said the right things once, and this new, bitter, lonely, desperate version wouldn’t know how to get the “correct result” without a script to follow. they’re happy, and it was real once, it meant something once, but not anymore.

they cared about that Siffrin, yes, but would they still care about this one, if they knew? if Siffrin ever allowed them to know? (he won’t, he can’t, he refuses.)

and there’s something that could have been said in favor of Siffrin allowing himself this “selfishness” if it made him happy anyway, if it could be a genuine source of comfort in a difficult situation—but it doesn’t! not really! because that guilt is there, because that fear is there, because of how flimsy it all inevitably feels.

so they’re not doing it for their family’s benefit, because that happiness is predicated on lies and ignorance. he’s barely doing it for his own benefit, because they’re torturing themself by revealing things they no longer want to reveal, concealing things they no longer want to conceal, acting out of fear of rejection rather than genuine desire for connection. who benefits from this hollow “kindness,” really?

that’s why the last loop had to be the ugliest one. Siffrin had to see that the worst could happen and there could still be love and connection on the other side. that even when the party sees the worst of him, when they have the agency he’s been knowingly denying them, they will still choose to love him.

[stellewriites]

Hii! Can you do ghoap x reader fluff? Like cuddles with mild flirting (from soap, obviously) and like soap is the little spoon, because in return he gets head scratches in return, reader in the middle, and Simon as the big spoon just pressing his face into the crook of readers neck?

Would rlly apreciate it <3

-🌑

i loved this idea when i read it and then proceeded to take far too long to actually answer it lmao BUT!! here it is,, ghoap x fem!reader fluff - ty for the request 💓

you picked up the cheap jar of pasta sauce and compared it to the branded version stacked next to it. as far as you could tell, the ingredients were the same and the little veg chunks included weren’t any smaller.

you nodded to yourself. it was decided, you weren’t paying two quid extra just for a name, fuck dolmio.

you looked higher to the top shelf and frowned when you saw the pasta had been pushed away from the edge and you’d be unable to reach it on your own.

“need a hand, dove?”

you turned to see a handsome man with a mohawk beelining towards you, his eyes tracing your frame with hot familiarity. without waiting for your response, he bullied his way into your space to reach over you for the pasta. barely stepping back, he handed you the pack and looked you up and down.

“thanks, stranger,” you said, holding back a laugh at his amused smile. you saw the moment he decided to play along.

“pretty skirt,” he said and nodded down to your bare legs peeking out beneath the denim.

“hm, my boyfriend got me it,” you said, a little teasingly.

“oh? and this boyfriend, he’s left ye all alone to do the shoppin’ has he?”

“no, he’ll be back soon. and he’s kinda protective, won’t be happy seeing me talking to other guys,” you said trying not to smile.

“ah’m no’ scared,” he scoffed, his own smile breaking out as he looked around the aisle eagerly for the aforementioned boyfriend.

“i don’t know, he’s pretty big and strong, wears a scary mask,” you said.

“aye? reminds me o’ my boyfriend,” he said and you finally giggled, leaning in to kiss him and giving up playing pretend.

“dove, they got their tiger bread in stock again,” simon said as he rounded the corner of the aisle and interrupting your kiss. “i ha’n’t ‘ad this in ages.” simon barely paused at the unexpected appearance of johnny, his eyes turning up in the corners as he smiled under his mask. “johnny, look, tiger bread.”

“yeah, i seen, si,” johnny said fondly, crowding you back against the trolley. “only getting the one loaf?”

simon paused. “hm. you’re right.”

you snorted as he dropped the bread into the trolley before heading back to the bakery section and leaving the pair of you alone again.

“work was a fookin’ drag, dove, cannae stand all this paperwork they’re keepin’ me busy with,” johnny groaned into your temple. you petted his arm consolingly before turning back to your list and shopping trolley.

“you were injured less than a month back, john, you can’t have been expecting to be back in the field so soon?” you hummed as you continued shopping with johnny leant over your back.

his silence spoke volumes.

you shook your head as you made your way through the store and waved simon over as you passed him by, hoping he hadn’t harassed the bakery staff into making more tiger loaves last minute for him. the absolute fiend.

“wha’s wrong with him?” simon asked as he got back, hands full as he nodded to johnny’s slumped frame. you refrained from asking simon if you really needed three tiger breads and instead nudged your other boyfriend up from your shoulder.

“he’s bored,” you said easily, grinning when johnny pulled back properly to send you a betrayed look.

“fuck’s sake. c’mere,” simon huffed before dipping down to kiss him, chuffing a laugh as johnny sputtered at the woollen texture of the mask in between them. “you’ll be back in no time. just behave or it’ll be longer.”

“ye sound like cap,” johnny grimaced. he wiped a hand down his tired face. “when are we goin’ home, hm? fuckin’ knackered, could do with a nap before dinner.”

“y’drive ‘ere?” ghost asked while you grabbed a box of eggs, checking for any cracked inside.

“aye.”

“then you can leave whenever,” ghost said flatly, though the glint of his eyes in the overhead lights betrayed his amusement at johnny’s plight.

johnny pouted.

“yer cruel, si. tell him, dove, he’s heartless,” johnny bemoaned dramatically.

“you’re cruel and heartless, simon, would you prefer strawberry jam or raspberry for a change?”

“could be a treat,” ghost conceded.

johnny groaned at the both of you, pinching your hip when you laughed.

“you both know i cannae sleep without someone’s arms around me,” he huffed, turning his big puppy eyes on you both.

you caved immediately.

“aw poor baby,” you cooed, biting your lip when you saw simon roll his eyes. “let’s get this done quick then, yeah? go grab the burgers we like from the frozen section and that ice cream we got a couple weeks back.”

“yes, ma’am.” johnny jogged off.

“si, can i trust you not to make your way back to the bakery if i give you a list of items to grab?”

“no,” he admitted without shame. “i saw the lad in the back prepping more for tomorrow, think i could convince ‘im to cook ‘em now for me if given the time.”

“right. hand holding it is as we find the toiletries then. ‘s like herding cats with you two.”

simon hummed, his eyes trained on the section you knew the bakery to be hidden in.

—

once home, johnny packed away the majority of your shopping in record time, snatching the jam from simon’s hands and almost throwing it onto the work top before plying his mask up one handed and dragging him down into a rough kiss with the other. you watched, amused, with raised eyebrows as johnny dragged him back towards the bedroom desperately, waving a hand at you and gasping out a needy, “dove, c’mon, stop fucking around,” in between wet kisses.

you didn’t need to be told twice before attaching your hands onto simon’s thick waist from behind, guiding them from bumping into any furniture or walls as they stumbled blind to the bedroom.

johnny pulled back with a dopey smile and pushed simon none too gently onto the bed. you took advantage of his lowered height and pulled off his mask completely, rubbing a gentle hand over his buzz cut hair and down to his jaw. you leant in for a soft peck before feeling johnny’s hands and arms wrap around your soft stomach.

he clung to you, nuzzling at your cheek over your shoulder until you turned in his arms to share your attention.

you heard the bed creak as simon settled further up the bed as johnny kissed you. you shuffled back, parting from johnny just long enough to get your bearings and climb onto the bed, simon’s hands moving to guide you back as johnny hummed against your lips.

you flopped back into simon’s arms, got comfortable as he wrapped you up and held you tight against him.

johnny sighed in relief at the sight and shuffled down so he could rest his head on your chest.

you gathered him close and laughed when he started whining when your hands stayed on his shoulders.

“so needy johnny, have you ever heard the phrase ‘patience is a virtue’?” you teased as you started to run your nails through his hair, lightly scratching until he sighed and dropped his body weight against you and simon.

“too t’red,” he mumbled.

simon lifted his warm hand from your hip and draped it heavily over the back of johnny’s neck, keeping him close. soon enough, the scot was snoring.

you tried not to laugh, your chest bouncing johnny with your muffled chuckles. “i think that might be a record.”

“tired lamb,” simon said condescendingly, but he rubbed his thumb lovingly over the soft skin behind johnny’s ear.

“don’t be mean.” you grinned back at him.

simon hummed and rested his head into the crook of your neck, tucking you in closer with the arm still wrapped underneath your waist. “not bein’ mean.”

he nipped at your neck, a soft nibble that had you gasping and clenching your thick thighs around the one johnny had slipped inbetween.

“prick,” you huffed without malice when he stopped and let out a long tired breath in your ear. he hummed with closed eyes, clearly not listening.

you chuffed a laugh into johnny’s hair. the low thrum of arousal simon had brought on was easy enough to ignore but you’d have rather he’d finished what he started. instead, you tucked your cold toes between his large calves behind you in penance and tugged johnny even closer, enough to smother him. with your arse perched perfectly in simon’s lap and johnny nestled close to his second favourite place on your body, you were sure they’d give you what you were after once their nap is over. you closed your eyes with a smile; you could wait for them to get their energy up, and you loved your puppy piles just as much as they did.