#emotionally or physically

[tiny-increments]

I cannot stop thinking about how Matt Murdock’s type is “women who could absolutely destroy him if they tried even a little”

And he’s, like, extremely into that.

Bless.

(Those Murdock boys got the devil in ‘em fr)

[dinitride-art]

one day I will be free of the disco ball at Rink O’ Mania that haunts my every waking thought. But that day is not today. Because a new disco ball has entered the chat. 

Hello Max’s memory of the snow ball in episode nine of season four.

[aglaecan]

I always love doing deep dives into thinking about how game mechanics might 'really' work, so to speak? Like what effect does the thing actually have, what does it do. Enchantments on items with all their buffs are a fascinating little thing, and Hawke relies on them heavily (too heavily; dangerously so, if you took her rings off her after she pushes herself hard she might literally die as all the effects end all at once).

She stacks enchantments, more than the game allows; several rings on each hand, several pendants on the same chain around her neck. At the beginning of her time in Kirkwall she might have had only a few, but as she gains money and influence, she adds more, as possible, stacking their effects to give herself the edge. Her preferences are as follows:

Cunning: A buff to cunning improves her perceptions and sharpens her senses, allowing her to read tiny changes in expression or muscle flexion of shifts of balance while at the same time speeding up her mental reflexes enough to make sense of it all.

Dexterity: The physical complement to the more mental cunning buff, dexterity enchantments improve her response time, balance, and reflexes in order to be able to put the expanded perception/knowledge into practice. Cunning and Dexterity are best paired together, so she believes, but if she could only pick one she'd pick Cunning and rely on her own reflexes for the physical half.

Strength: This doesn’t affect weight or mass or size, but does make her muscles and bones inherently stronger. The effect is particularly noticeable on someone as small-framed as Hawke; because she’s not lifting a heavy body-weight, for example, her strengthened body means she can jump to incredible heights – and the stronger body means she can take falls, too. She is also less liable to be knocked down/back by strong blows.

Stamina:  This buff allows her to keep moving for a lot longer than she should be able to otherwise, pushing past the limits of a normal body. If combined with a stamina regeneration enchantment, the effect lasts longer still. However, there’s a major downside to this; the enchantment really just masks the body’s fatigue rather than preventing it. As soon as the enchanted item is removed, all that drain will snap back. After a particularly hard push relying on this enchantment to keep moving, it’s not uncommon for her to sleep like the dead for two days straight just to recover.

Health: She can shrug off injuries which might otherwise be debilitating and keep fighting longer, especially when paired with a health regeneration enchantment. Like with stamina, though, removing the enchanted item lets all that damage snap back on her all at once – so she seldom sets it aside. The added health does let her heal from injuries more quickly, and as a side effect, she’s less prone to illness, even the common cold.

Obviously her equipment itself changes as she finds, buys, or is given new things, but there are a few which are always her favorites and stay in permanent rotation after entering her collection. The Puzzle Ring of the Black Fox, the Brass Nug Charm (which she wears on the same chain as Leandra’s locket after All That Remains), and the Belt of the Hawke are among these.

[foundfamilywhump]

the question, you see, is not ‘is it too ooc for this character to cry’ but rather ‘what circumstances would push this character to cry’

this is the whump wisdom, go forth and make that character cry

[incendiorum]

I think that loving io and being loved by io is something that requires a lot of... observance? of noting small things and big things and just their devotion in general. because asking for io to say what they're feeling is hard. and asking io if they trust you is always, always going to get an answer you won't like. you can't measure io's love in trust, because trust has been so thoroughly broken for them I don't foresee it ever being whole again. but io does love, and io loves hard. io will love even when maybe they shouldn't. even when it starts to hurt them. io will stick to someone's side for as long as they can. because while io's loyalty is hard-earned and only ever for so few people, they are loyal to a terrible fault.

[wu-does-art]

coming out as a "Will snores obnoxiously loud" and "Nico breaths so quietly you can barely tell hes alive" truther

[clouvu]

Nothing in the world belongs to me But my love, mine, all mine

[cupcakeinat0r]

[greenorangevioletgrass]

tuesday in the park (a.d.)

pairing: divorced!art x reader

synopsis: your alone time at the park takes an interesting turn when a little girl breaks the quiet, but maybe... her dad is a good company.

warnings: language, smoking, mention of divorce, lily is an adorable lil oblivious cupid, sooo much tension tho, maybe smut in future parts? idk

notes: i am back and pathetic bitch boy art has officially given me a brainrot. this is also very self-indulgent and heavily based on my irl experience (except the fact that it's art, sadly) soooo... enjoy!

✨I do not have a taglist. Please follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notification to get the latest update on my fics✨

City parks are fucking depressing. Especially the industrial type that’s square, and covered in concrete and has, like, four trees. They’re all well-manicured and hung with string lights, but there’s still barely enough greens to call it a park. And to add insult to injury, a Tiffany’s installation art currently sits at the head of the park—a giant diamond ring in a lush velvet box the size of a Range Rover. It’s gaudy as shit, and the massive Aston Martin billboard overhead is an assault to the eyes. You honestly have no idea why you’re sitting here.

Oh, right. It’s like 2PM on a Tuesday afternoon in some downtown office area, so there’s nobody else there. You can just sit and smoke and watch the water spout from the ground in pretty patterns. The steady rhythm of the fountain jets quiets the chaos in your mind.

Inhale. Exhale. As the fountain hisses and ceases, hisses and ceases…

And then suddenly… another pattern.

A pitter-patter. Like little footsteps. Quick moving, and then it stops. Right to your left.

You turn your head and see a little girl sitting right next to you. Her white sneakers look so small next to yours. She pushes a lock of dark ringlets off of her face as she watches the floor fountain in quiet curiosity and awe.

It takes you a moment to realize you still had a cigarette in your hand. You quickly stub it out as far from her as you can. “Uh… hello.” You frown at your own words, but how the fuck do you talk to kids in this situation?!

But the kid looks up and smiles at you politely. “Hello.” she nods and then returns her gaze to the water bursting in canon.

You’re even more confused. She doesn’t even seem deterred by sitting next to a stranger—willingly, at that. “Well, are you… are you alone?” 

“No. With my dad,” she answers, light as a feather.

“Oh, good. Good.” You sigh in relief and look around for any sign of a parent, adult, anyone looking for a missing child. “Where’s your—”

“Lily! There you are!” A man’s voice cuts through the dull noise of the city. You turn around to see him rushing over to the little girl, grimacing apologetically at you. “Sorry. I’m not a negligent father, I swear. I just… turned around and this little monkey’s run off.”

The little girl—Lily, apparently— giggles as her dad throws her a look, gentle but firm. “You said we could watch the water fountains, Daddy!”

“Yeah, but don’t run off like that…” He rolls his eyes, though you notice his sharp jaw twitching with a hidden smile.  And then, leaning into Lily’s ear but still loud enough within your earshot, “And you certainly weren’t supposed to invade this nice lady’s personal space—”

“It’s no trouble. I was just sitting here,” you quickly wave him off.

“Daddy, can I play over there?” Lily points at the streaming water at the center of the park.

The man pulls a face. “I don’t know, Lil—”

“Come on, Daddy…” 

“No way.”

“Just for five minutes. Please?” She bats her eyelashes, and you can immediately tell it’s her father’s Achilles heel. Because as much as you try to stay out of the conversation, you can hear the audible sigh coming from him, followed by,

“Fine. Five minutes, okay?”

The little girl bolts off to the fountains, tiny hands reaching out to the jet streams, testing out how strong it is. Figuring out the fountain pattern and stepping on each jet right as it shuts off, one foot after the other. It makes you wish it was socially acceptable for adults to do that, too. 

“You’re free to sit and watch her from here, if you want.”

He looks at you, like really looks at you for the first time. At your rolled-up button-down, the chain around your neck with a pendant he can’t see under your collar. But mostly at your kind eyes—weathered, witnessed, but somehow not judging.

He pushes his short blond hair out of his face the same way the little girl does, and the similarity almost makes you laugh… if you weren’t so worried about making a fool of yourself in front of this handsome man. “You sure? I… didn’t want to intrude.”

You shake your head softly and scoot over on the steps, allowing him just enough space to sit down.

He notices the stubbed cigarette between your forefinger and middle finger. “You got another one on you?”

It takes you a beat to realize what he’s talking about. “Oh!” You reach for your pack of Camel, and offer it to him, one cigarette stick already pushed out for easier access.

He takes it with a polite smile, but then pauses upon realizing he has no lighter either. “Um, do you mind if I borrow—”

You lean in as he puts it between his lips, one hand cupping the light from the breeze, and his heart stops at how close you are. Close enough to notice the gloss on your lips. Close enough to get a faint whiff of your floral perfume.

(And unbeknownst to him, your heart stutters a little, too, and you hope he doesn’t notice the way you fumble lighting your own cigarette.)

“Thanks, um…” he trails off. 

You tell him your name, and he repeats it almost thoughtfully. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, like he’s chasing the taste of your name as it leaves his mouth.

He nods. “I’m Art.”

He does look like it. The navy blue sweater hangs just right on his broad shoulders, understated but high-quality. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing a sleek black Piguet around his wrist. A simplicity to complement his refined features. His bone structure is cut like the gods, but the permanent frown etched between his brows, casting a shadow over his deep-set eyes, tells you that he is facing the troubles of man. And the awkward way he’s holding his cigarette makes him look like a boy. Of course, you can’t say any of that to him, so you settle with,

“Nice to meet you, Art.”

He can’t remember the last time somebody said that to him and meant it. And right now, sitting in this concrete park alone, he can see no pretense coming from you. No ass-kissing, no sizing-up, just a genuine kind gesture of a stranger. And it makes him so fucking relieved. 

“So what brings you out here?”

“Work, actually. A meeting,” Art replies somewhat vaguely. He’s not really keen on divulging the details of sponsorship and endorsement deals. Not when you don’t seem to know who he is. “Lily saw the park from the window and insisted we check it out when we’re done.”

“Ah, does she normally tag along with you to work meetings?” You ask with a playful glint, although the unspoken question of his whole situation is well heard. “She should. She looks like a great negotiator. Just saying.”

He chuckles. “Maybe she should. My, uh…” Art stops himself before he could say ‘wife’ because Tashi isn’t that anymore. Not his wife because they aren’t married anymore; not his coach either, because he doesn’t play tennis anymore. “Lily’s mom and I take turns every other week.”

And there it is. Your lips pull up into a soft line, not quite a smile but a gesture of understanding. “Must be tough.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s a lot of changes. But she’s doing okay, I think…” Art pauses, “I hope.”

You follow his gaze and look at Lily, who must be playing some kind of Indiana Jones fantasy scenario with the water fountains. Not an ounce of care in the world. “She looks like a tough kid.”

“She is.” Art smiles bittersweetly. “Anyway, you didn’t come here to listen to my sob story. What brings you to this park?”

The air that pulls both of you in releases, and you lean back on your elbows against the concrete. “Oh, I just finished work and I… needed some air.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m an interpreter.”

His eyebrows shoot up in interest. “Like the Nicole Kidman movie?”

“Exactly.” You point your half-cigarette at him, and share a tentative smile with him.

“Do you do, like… high-profile, UN-related assassination investigations, too?”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “It’s not nearly as cool in real life. Most of it’s pretty boring, like contract negotiations and focus group discussions…”

“But the stories you must’ve heard, right? Or do you just… zone out at some point?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes you end up shutting off your brain and go on autopilot.”

“But not today?”

You smile ruefully at him, and he knows the answer. You take a thoughtful puff of your cigarette. “It’s… a bit hard when they’re talking about… how they had to jump off of the ship and swim across the channel in the dead of night, because they would rather die in the open water—a couple of them did— than die working in the fishing vessel…”

“Fuck.”

“And I know it’s not really meant for me—they’re talking to my client sitting next to me. But when they look you in the eyes and speak to you…” you trail off, taking a long drag of your cigarette.

Art takes it as a cue for his cigarette, too, although he notices you tapping the ashes off one, two, three times. “Must be tough.”

You roll your eyes playfully at him for quoting your own words back to you. “Ah well, it pays the bills. Besides, I get to clock out at 2PM on a Tuesday and enjoy this…” you inhale through your teeth disdainfully, “beautiful, brutalist… Soviet-core park.”

He laughs, the real kind of laughter that throws his head back, and it warms your heart enough to laugh, too. “It’s bullshit, isn’t it?”

“It’s bullshit! And what the fuck is that horrendous giant ring doing here?” The two of you cackle over the installation art across the park. “And that billboard… it’s ridiculous.”

Art’s laughter dies down on his lips as he looks up at the billboard in question. The Aston Martin “Game Changers” campaign from last year. Fuck. Even when he’s completely separated from Tashi, her presence still looms over like a panopticon.

You turn to him with a smile still etched on your face, completely oblivious to the storm in his head. “What?”

But he looks ahead, too caught up in the hurricane to hear you. He just… looks up at the billboard, his face darkens.

Oh.

You feel silly for not putting two and two together—you’ve been staring at the billboard mindlessly for a good fifteen minutes, goddammit— so you tread very carefully. “That, uh… Lily’s mom?”

Art looks down on his lap, as if not daring to look at Tashi’s picture. Or at Lily, or at you. “Yeah.”

There’s no right word for it. There’s no coming back from this, nothing he can say can make this better, and he can’t help but kick himself for fucking up. What he is fucking up, he’s not entirely sure. But he’s not ready to end this conversation with you, not on such a weird note.

“I can’t imagine what it must be like…” because you can’t. Losing a spouse is hard enough, but to have it out there in the open…

“It’s tough,” he nods in confirmation, and you smile feebly at his attempt at a callback to your little inside joke. To the moment where things are fine, all things considered. 

If the air ebbed and flowed earlier, it must’ve just… froze now. You don’t even remember the cigarette in your hand until the ash falls onto your hand and you gasp at the sudden heat, putting it out on the ground.

“I’m sorry. I should get out of your hair—”

“Do you wanna get a drink some time?”

The question catches both of you off-guard, eyes blinking at each other in shock. He didn’t think he heard you right, and your mouth seems to work faster than the filter in your brain.

Your face runs hot, and you chuckle sheepishly. “Sorry. You probably don’t wanna hear that—”

“I do.” He’s not sure which question he’s answering. Maybe both? Definitely both.

“Oh! Um…”

And right in that moment, Lily comes padding over with squelching steps in her shoes, completely drenched but over the moon. “Daddy, Daddy, that was so much fun! Can we come back here? I see lights on the floor, and I think the fountain lights up at night!”

Art puts out his cigarette under his shoe, chuckling at his daughter,  “Baby, you’re soaked! Did you try to take a shower there or something?” immediately wringing water out of her hair.

“I’ll take a real shower when we get home.”

“Well, duh. But I don’t want you to catch a cold… come here.” He crosses his arm to grab the hem of his sweater and tug it over his head to put it on his daughter.

The girl looks thoroughly unamused as the clothing item falls halfway down her calves and the sleeves nearly touch the ground. “Daddy, this is ridiculous.”

You grin, and you can’t help but wonder how much of that sass came from Art. “Looks pretty chic to me.”

He nods at you, glad that you’re backing him up. “Thank you.” He then turns to Lily pointedly.

Lily half-smiles at you. “Thank you,” although she still isn’t quite convinced.

“I’m sorry, we really gotta go. But how do I, um…” he trails off. Gosh, he was hoping to do this out of Lily’s sight. Lily’s sight means Tashi’s sight, and he’s not ready for that talk just yet.

“Take my card.” You whip out a neat stainless steel case, and slides out a white-and-blue business card. Your name is printed in a sleek black font, right above ‘Interpreter’ in a smaller case. Your email and phone number follows.

His fingers brush against yours as he takes it, and he prays to God or whoever is up there that he doesn’t give anything away to you or Lily. Not a quirk, not a peep. Just two strangers connecting by chance.

“Thank you.” He nods evenly as he pockets the card, trying to contain the butterflies in his stomach—he’s always thought he was too old for that by now, but maybe… just maybe… “You have a nice day.”

“You, too.” You squint up at him under the sun, and then smile and wave at the little girl. “Bye, Lily.”

She waves at you as Art sweeps her up into his arms, and you don’t let yourself turn all the way around to watch them leave. Instead, with one final look at Art’s “Game Changers” billboard ad in the distance, you grab your pack of Camel and light another cigarette between your lips.

[paesthethyc]

yearning season

[moongreenlight]

Soap as serial killer!reader’s henchman and he’s just so fucking clueless. Reader yells and screams and makes him drag bodies into the trash whatever and when he talks to the guys about it he’s like “yeah she’s my girlfriend but she doesn’t know it yet she’s just a little high maintenance I have to figure out how to get her to relax for a second because any time I go into her office she threatens to kill me but sometimes I get lucky and she’ll put her hands around my neck and then yell at me more when I get a boner” 😍

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 177

Now Dan is no coward. He’s not. 

But this stupid child body does have an effect on his reactions to things and honestly it’s a horrible thing that’s too small and too weak for him to use all his abilities. He could barely manage a fireball if he concentrated, yet everything caught fire with a mere outburst! His control was utterly gone, and a tantrum resulted in having to wear a stupid child leash backpack. 

It wasn’t like he was really a child, and it wasn’t like he’d get lost or some stupid shit that Danny would insist. Ugh, this isn’t even fair, technically he was older than him yet was stuck in a smaller body that he kept tripping over! 

Urgh, he’s even insisting on rewarding ‘good behavior’ and shit- must have talked to Jazz or something- because… Oh. No he wants the constellation bear, give! His star bear now, no takes back and, urgh, stupid baby body! 

Well, on the other hand, it’s utterly hilarious how much Danny sputters whenever he calls him Mom, not to mention strangers’ utter befuddlement. He ignores how Danny seems to be trying his best to live up ro the title. 

But! As he was saying, he’s no coward! He’s also not an idiot though, and having no control over his powers isn’t exactly a good thing. It’s really not a good thing when there’s a murderous-looking hero that he thinks he might have maimed in the future- which they apparently remember- staring down at him. So, he has to call in the big guns to fix this. 

“Mom, there’s a creepy fruitloop staring at me!” “There’s WHAT?!” Hah. Take that hero he doesn’t remember the name of.

(Behold the Grumpiest of Babies)

[pemprika]

⚠️ handle with care ⚠️

i love the idea of phos getting strong enough to carry more weight after obtaining their gold arms. phos would still be getting used to controlling their strength and impulsivity at this phase, but i like to think they would act more carefully around shinsha.

[fkevin073]

Coriolanus Snow & Lucy Gray Baird + Space in THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES

[pachimation]

aftercare

[still-snowing]

i’m sick in bed with the flu drawing cute hualian is the only thing that can save me now <3