#five minute fics

[jovialjuggernaut-draws]

Prompt: It was... smaller than expected.

“This is... it?” Batman checked.

Riddler looked offended. “What? Not enough for you? You think the big hero deserves more?”

“No, no, it’s just...” He struggled to put it into words. “For a death trap, I expected something more... deadly.”

With a huff, Riddler rolled his eyes. “Budget constraints. We can’t all have Bruce Wayne’s deep pockets.”

[angelmichelangelo]

12leo makes the best teas & matchas. his brothers claim they prefer coffee/juice/whatever, but when leo knows they're upset and wordlessly makes their drinks in the especially specific way he knows they like, they can't hide their gratitude.

do with that what you will :)

x

There’s the beginnings of a headache blossoming right behind his eyes, growing there and wiggling around his skull like some hungry parasite. 

The data that is rolling across his computer screen in long lines of jumbled words and numbers all starts to kind of… blur together at some point.

He squeezes his eyes shut like it might just magically make it clear again, but all it does is spur on his growing migraine, kicking it into action, he groans, pulling himself up from his desk, he’s fairly certain he can see the projection of his computer screen still behind his eyes with each blink.

It’s late, so technically there shouldn’t be anybody in the kitchen. Not with the soft sounds of Raphael’s snoring coming from behind his door, or Mikey’s nightlight spilling from beneath his.

Yet, he’s no surprise to see Leonardo already perched at their makeshift dinner table, hands curled around a steaming mug, his face lacks its usual mask, showcasing the dark circles that are ringed beneath his eyes.

“Did you even attempt to make it to bed?” He asks him, eyes following him around the room as he sluggishly makes his way to their coffee machine. (He says their like it’s a shared possession but Donnie is the only coffee fiend in this house. Raph gets his buzz from energy drinks like the disgusting teenage boy he is, and Mikey took one sip once and said it tasted like dirt. This here machine was his and his alone.)

He jabs a finger at the button, letting it work its magic. He turns and rests a hip against the counter, looking towards his elder brother.

“For like, a minute, yeah.”

Leo scoffs, though, there’s nothing venomous towards it. Many a night since their childhood had this been their rendezvous point, here in this tiny, dank little kitchen. Whilst Donnie’s own insomnia might have been entirely self inflicted ever since he’d built his own home computer, Leo’s wasn’t exactly staying up late on purpose.

Donnie makes his coffee and slides over towards his spot at the table, watching as his brother's beak crinkles up in detest as he brings the mug to his lip.

“That stuff is so gross,” he says, voice low, mindful of their still sleeping siblings just down the hall. “I don’t know how you drink that sludge, Dee.”

Hot coffee slides down his throat, warming his belly. It won’t do much for his headache but at least it’ll stop him from passing out at his desk any time soon.

Donnie sighs. He looks towards Leo’s own mug — it’s one of Sensei’s, chipped at the edges and clearer steam curls from the top. There’s the faint aroma of something sweet, and without having to look, Donnie would guess that the contents inside were probably a rather pale green color.

“I could say the same,” he comments, nodding towards the beverage.

Leo’s lips twitch. “Yeah but this is actually supposed to help you sleep,” he tells him rather pointedly. He even pitches himself forward on his seat a little. “I wish you wouldn’t force yourself awake on that stuff.”

There’s a fleeting look of worry dashing across his brother's face; brows knitted together, his mouth drawn in a straight line. His eyes go a little dark under the dim light of the overhead bulb that needs changing.

Donnie sighs again. The ache in his head now webs itself around his temples, throbbing there like a cylinder drum. He rubs the heel of his hand against his eyes, like it might stave off some of the hurt, but it refuses, pulsating like his brain was about to explode.

“Don?” Leo’s voice is gentle, but he stands, and his chair makes a sick groaning sound against concrete and it bounces off his skull walls. He ducks his head down to draw a sharp breath. He hears Leo approach him.

“Don’t worry,” he grits. He reaches blindly for his drink. “Just a headache from looking at my computer for too long.” He presses his hand harder, swirls of muted color dance around behind his lids.

There’s a tentative hand on his shoulder, and the sound of his mug dragging across the table.

“C’mon,” Leo whispers. “I got something for that.”

He ends up with two little pulls pressed into his palm and what was left of his coffee splashed into the sink in sad rivets of brown. Looking at it like this, it did appear pretty grim.

Leo is quiet as he busies himself beside the stove, his own tea left abandoned, Donnie watches as the steam starts to disperse into nothing in the air, and once it’s all gone, does Leo turn back around to face him.

“Here,” he tells him, handing out one of Sensei’s cups. It feels like sacrilege to take it from him — he’d never indulged their father on those afternoon tea breaks like Leo had done so many times, tucked away in the dojo just to two of them, but holding the hot mug now between his palms, he suddenly wishes he very much did instead.

“I had some leftover ginger tea when I made Mikey some the other week. Try it. It’s good for migraines.”

Don feels his brows knit together. “You had tea with Mikey?” He rasps. “Mikey doesn’t drink tea.”

Leo drops back into his seat, a smug grin creeps over his face. “You’d be surprised.” His smile falters a little. “He uh, he wasn’t sleeping so well. Nightmares. After…” his voice trails out, like the steam, into nothing. He steels himself, rounding out his shoulders before he continues. “So I got him on it. He said it tasted like gingerbread men, so. Whatever works.”

Donnie’s chest goes a little airy. He hadn’t known about that. 

He hesitates as he tries to draw in whatever information he can about what else he was missing from his brothers in this strange, brief period in their times when Leo must read it all perfectly across his face.

He clears his throat. “Drink it. I didn’t let mine go cold for nothing.”

And Donnie supposes he can’t argue with that.

He takes a sip and—

For one, Mikey was wrong. It didn’t taste like gingerbread men but… it wasn’t half bad.

And Leo reads him like a damn book again because he’s smirking again as he takes a mouthful of his own lukewarm drink.

“Told you.”

Donnie scoffs. But not before he takes another mouthful. It goes down way easier than coffee ever did. He scowls, not even realizing that the tightness behind his eyes was already starting to fade, he just rolls his eyes and tells him in a low, tired voice,

“Whatever.”

[lazylittledragon]

if i had a nickel for every au spawned from twitter that i SWORE i was going to be normal about

[blenselche]

i had the thought that prof membrane prob doesn't pay for the extra channels, while zim leeches them from the neighbors.

[desert--moonchild]

Maddie wasn’t snooping.  

She honestly wasn’t.

She really was just trying to be a good big sister and help her brother and future brother-in-law out by dropping off a package for Buck that had been sent to her house due to cheaper shipping (“why is it like twenty bucks cheaper, you live twenty minutes away”). Buck and Tommy’s place was on her daily commute to the dispatch center and it just made sense for her to take the package over to them since neither of them had the time since coming back from their weekend getaway to Vegas two weeks ago.

Both of them were on shift but she still had a house key from when she’d been watering their plants while they were gone.  So it should’ve just been a quick in and out and she’d be on her way home.

And then she stopped and got the mail.  See she really was just trying to be a good big sister— truly, she was.  The mailman had been pulling away from the curb as she pulled up and in the spirit of being helpful she stopped by the mailbox to grab their mail.  

And out of habit in grabbing her own mail she started flipping through it as she set the package down on the table in the entryway.

And that’s when she saw it.

The envelope.

The return address was a P.O. Box from Las Vegas, Nevada with it addressed to Mr. Evan Buckley and Mr. Thomas Kinard of Los Angeles, California.

And printed in big black lettering across crisp white paper, right above Buck and Tommy’s names.

REGARDING MARRIAGE DOCUMENTS

Maddie stared at it.

And then she stared at it some more.

She put the mail down in the mail bowl and blinked, scrubbed at her eyes to make sure she just didn't have something in her eye and blinked again. She picked the envelope back up and stared at it again. 

Yup— still there. 

MARRIAGE

She put the envelope back down and hummed for a few moments before she pulled out her phone and pulled up Buck’s name.

Maddie:  Hey… when you went to Vegas, did you happen to get married?

Buck responded back almost instantly.

Buck:  …

Buck:  why would you think that???

Maddie quickly snapped a picture of the envelope and sent it back to him.

Buck: oh

Buck: uh… hahah surprise?

[buddie-buddie]

“So,” Buck says, blinking up at Tommy. He still hasn’t gotten over how good that feels– looking up at his partner. Being with someone whose warm, protective hand settles on the small of his back and nearly spans the distance between his hips. Someone whose big, strong arms envelop him when they hug, someone who can tuck Buck into his chest almost effortlessly. Someone who makes him feel grounded, protected, safe. In more ways than one.

“So,” Tommy returns the word, accompanying it with a warm smile, the kind that reaches all the way to his eyes and makes them sparkle as he looks down at Buck. 

“You met my parents,” Buck says with a laugh, because really– how could he not? It’s a little ridiculous, now that he’s saying it out loud. “On our third date.”

Tommy nods, leaning against the wall outside of Buck’s front door. “Mhmmm,” he hums, watching Buck with a fond smile as he fumbles for his keys. “Sure did.”

It takes a minute, but Buck finally manages to get his keys out of his pocket and into the lock. Tommy is nothing but patience and fondness, watching him with a sparkle in his eye that makes Buck feel warm all over. When he finally gets the door open, Buck’s chest swells as Tommy’s big hand comes out to hold the door open for him, nodding for him to head inside first. 

That’s a first. Buck’s stomach flips, a warm, pleasant feeling skating across his skin as he pulls his key from the lock and steps inside. It’s the same feeling he had on their first date when Tommy pulled out his chair before he sat down. The same one he had the first time Tommy texted him Be safe at the start of a shift. 

A smile tugs at his lips as Tommy follows him into his apartment and the door clicks shut behind him. There’s something so simple about it, something so mundane and normal and domestic that it makes Buck’s head spin and his heart pound against his ribcage in the very best way. He wants this again. And again, and again, and again. Wants to come home with Tommy. Come home to Tommy. Wants the door to close behind them, wants to leave the world outside and exist only in this world here, in the one with the warm glow of the kitchen lights casting shadows on Tommy’s face as he toes his shoes off beneath the bike that hangs on Buck’s wall. The one where he pulls two beers out of the fridge and sets them on the counter, and Tommy opens them wordlessly, the silence comfortable as it stretches between them. The one where the necks of their bottles clink and their knuckles brush and Buck’s skin hums and his heart sings from just one small taste of Tommy’s skin against his. 

Buck’s the one to break the easy, comfortable silence. He does it with a small laugh, just shy of a giggle, as he thinks back to the look on his mother’s face when he walked into Chim’s hospital room with Tommy by his side and she connected the dots. “You were covered in soot.”

“Wasn’t the only one,” Tommy points out, grinning against the lip of his beer bottle as he takes another sip.

keep reading on ao3

[justaz]

merlin slipping up early on around arthur and trying to assuage his fears by assuring that the gods would look out for them and arthur pauses before asking “the gods?” and they have a awkward lil conversation where merlin is like “yeah i worship the gods of the old religion” and arthurs like “why?” and merlin goes “well why do you worship the god of the new religion? we just believe in them” and arthur takes in this new information and is eventually like “yeah. sure. i guess its not illegal in escetir is it?” anyways thats it. it doesnt get brought up again until later on

when arthur + the knights and merlin and in that shrine and the knights aren’t taking it seriously and merlin goes “in the time of the old religion, they built shrines like this to appease restless spirits. we shouldn’t be here” and the knights brush it off but arthur knows merlin truly believes in it all so he redirects the knights away and later on its him and merlin at the well and arthur is there to calm merlin after he sees the visions from the raid. merlin’s crying and pleading with arthur to leave, that they shouldn’t be here. arthur agrees and goes to leave when merlin calls out to him. arthur stops but doesn’t turn. merlin wraps his arms around his middle

“you were here”

arthur doesn’t say anything more and walks away

[kettlefire]

Time forgets most (DPxDC)

I've been getting too many brain worms that I need to clear out the cramp space that is my idea vault. In doing so, I'm just posting off-handed, random things I've typed up at work. (Partly so my drafts don't just end up like my vault). Without further ado, a much too too long post

°•°•°•°

The movement of time is a much too complex thing for many to understand. The knowledge that time was not perfectly linear. The past did not simply stay in the past. The future is not simply something to look forward to. The present is not simply a fleeting moment.

Time is a complex web. Every point in time, connected to another point in time. A never-ending mess of webs and connections. Things that are to be. Things that can be. Things that are being. Things that will never see the light of day in this universe.

Despite what some may want to believe, Time has no master. Time does not yield to any singular being. That did not mean that Time didn't need a helping hand. A guiding hand to help keep the chaos of time to something just a little more... fluid.

The being came to exist well before the universe had. The being was festered, taught, and nurtured in a small pocket dimension. A small space just like an incubator.

Until the world blossomed around it. Life started to grow. Time kept moving. Living organisms found untimely deaths. Evolved, learned, and grew into the new space around it.

When the first little creature crawled out of the water, Time's keeper was let free. A bumbling little thing, breaming with life and curiosity.

Just like everything else in the world, this keeper wasn't safe from time. It still moved. Brought forth problems and adventures.

As time continued to tick. Moving in every direction, the keeper continued to age. Unlike the rest of the universe, the keeper didn't age the same as others.

Some days, he was nothing but a small boy, frolicking in a field of flowers and bees. Other days, he was a strong middle-aged man. Pulling the strings in just the right way, pushing for a timeline that felt right.

On days that have been happening much more often. He was but a crippled old man, hunched over his staff, and dropping much needed wisdom on the young lives around him.

Being the keeper of time wasn't an easy feat. Being completely out of time, experiencing things in broken order. There was only a clear start, and a jumble of things that followed.

The keeper was content with his life. Watching over the world as it grew and blossomed. He was content with his special kind of solitude.

That was until he saw the boy. In the webs of moments, the keeper's gaze had found him. A boy much too young, suddenly with powers much too great thrusted upon him.

The keeper watched the scenes play out. The tears, laughter, humiliation, triumph, and pain. He watched as the boy's family was ripped from him. Watched the twisted attempt at fixing his life, only for it to go horribly wrong.

He watched the bloodshed and chaos that erupted. The lives ripped apart and destroyed. Not a single sign of life left behind.

Then he watched as the boy, no, not a boy anymore. The keeper watched as the monster tore through the fabric of time. Ripped its way through the thin veils that divided the universes.

Universes that had never known the boy's existence were torn to shreds to. A flight driven with pain and anger.

Despite the keeper having seen the boy turn into such a monster. He could see it in the beast's eyes. The deep-seated need for a family, a life. To be loved.

Something about the boy's life, his story, spoke to the keeper. He found himself reaching out into the web of lives and moments. Finding the moment when things went the most wrong for the boy.

Just like that, the keeper had inserted himself into a life. He pulled the boy out of the cruel stream of time. Filled the boy with the knowledge he needed. Let the boy see just what could happen if he let it.

The keeper of time was soon a simple mentor. A simple deity looking out for the world. Taking on the mantel of Clockwork and finding a new purpose for his life.

A young boy's life has been flipped upside down two times now. And there were certainly more to come. This time, the boy wasn't alone. He had a guiding hand, and a communtiy behind him.

The keeper, no, Clockwork watched with a strange pride and happiness he hadn't felt in a long time. The boy was quickly surrounded by a family that helped him navigate his new powers.

Clockwork, alongside many of the other ghostly beings, watched on with pride as the young boy grew into a strong young man. Mastering powers, taking a stand, and making their home safe.

Despite the best efforts, time always beings problems.

It was one thing for Clockwork. He was the keeper of time. His life has reason to exist as long as time exists. Which will always be. His purpose was infinite.

But this boy... Danny wasn't like Clockwork. He was still partially human and terrified of losing his humanity. Danny's story had to come to an end, it's how time works.

Except, Danny wasn't in the timeline anymore. Clockwork had ensured that, pulled Danny into a separate timeline. An unaccounted for timeline.

He couldn't live here forever, not the way that Clockwork could. Danny needs a life, a family, a place, a purpose. He was still human.

It took more effort than Clockwork would have liked. He had to cash in favors from other deities that he hadn't spoken to in centuries.

It took a combined effort of everyone who cared for the little halfa. The strange boy that teeter on the line between life and death. The boy who had freed the Zone from a tyrant. Who wanted nothing more than for everyone to live a happy and filled life/afterlife.

Getting the magic and spells right was the hard part. But finding the location was easy. A beautiful planet just on the edge of the Milky Way. Unlikely to be disturbed or hurt.

The planet was undiscovered, primative even. Far enough from humans that Clockwork was certain Danny wouldn't be bothered. Only one species lived on that planet. Along the jungle like fauna, and in the water.

Cute little guys, barely bigger than two feet long and one foot tall. There was no name, no knowledge about them. Aside from Clockwork analyzing their way of life.

A simple cycle. They were born, they aged, they played, fed, mated, and then died. A simple but content life.

The aliens weren't unsettling. At least not to anyone who has seen more creatures than what Earth has to offer. It is a strange combination between frog, fish, and squid.

Scurrying around on two legs and four tentacles. A small frog-like face with eyes that seemed to take up half that space. Colors vary from blues to greens to the same sandy brown found at the bottom of the lakes.

Before long, the planet had its own protector. A young boy who once was lost and alone seemed to meld perfectly with these aliens.

Clockwork was always sure of himself. He never let anyone see otherwise. Except, Clockwork hadn't been sure. Not when he had performed the ritual.

As he molded and changed Danny's DNA until the man was a new being entirely. To anyone who didn't know the full story, the boy could easily look related to the aliens.

Gills now painted the sides of his neck, not necessary, but Clockwork felt like it had been. Webbed hands and feet to make transversing the underwater caves even easier. An ethereal, almost siren-like touch to Danny.

It worked out perfectly. Danny settled in easily. Building a routine and bound with the aliens. It hadn't been hard for the little creature to take a liking to him.

Before long, it was routine. Danny would spend most of his time on the planet, watching over his new wards. On some days, he'd portal back to the zone. Spend time with the ghosts and deities that saved his life. To check in on the new govermental system that had been put in place.

It was perfect. Simple and nice. Everyone got complacent. The longer time went on without a hiccup or a problem. The longer Danny was able to rest in his odd solitude. The more people got comfortable.

The more they forgot that time was as cruel as it was forgiving.

It had been just another day cycle. Danny was playing with the most recent litter birth. The first time he had seen the birth, he was more disgusted than anything else.

After the third time, Danny had started getting excited. He looked forward to it. Loved seeing the aliens flourish and grow. Watching them thrive and find more fun in the things Danny creates. Every new fun game or obstacle was always made with the things natural to the planet. Or debris that was caught in its gravitational pull.

Danny was playing with Plop. The little guy got his name, and he always plopped out of the water. Unlike the other aliens, this one didn't crawl out. No, he'd pull himself out of the water with his tentacles, only to plop down on the ground.

Of course, Plop had also been the first alien to approach Danny when he arrived. It's how they formed such a strong bond.

Everything had seemed perfectly fine. The day was rolling along just like it always did. That was until a small group of the more elder aliens suddenly came scurrying into their main cave.

They hadn't waited a second before diving into the water. Danny watched, confused and concerned, as each one of them grabbed one of the young. Before shooting straight into the underwater cave system.

The once bustling and living cave was suddenly eerily quiet and void of any aliens. Leaving behind only the confused Danny in the pool.

At least that's what a certain Green Lantern saw when he followed the trail of retreating aliens.

This planet had been categorized to have no signs of intelligent life. It seemed to have the option to nurture life, but there had been no signs.

When Hal Jordan got word of a seeming spike of activity from the supposedly empty planet, he had added it to his rooster.

A quick peek, just a look into what kind of life might be starting to grow there. The little aliens he had seen were adorable, sure. But they didn't seem all that evolved. Still in their evolutionary journey.

That was until Hal saw him.

Now, Hal was no stranger to running into ethereal beauty. It's what happens when someone interacts with aliens on a basic daily. That was something he was used to.

Except, all his breath seemed to be knocked out of him completely. The cave alone was stunning, a stark contrast from the almost barren surface he had first seen.

A deep, shimmering blue pool that vanished into the rocky space around it. Trees, bushes, and flowers decorate the area. It looked almost too good to be true. Like an oasis in the middle of a desert.

Then there was the being that caught all of Hal's attention. Bright blue eyes that looked like gems, pale blue-tinged skin. Long black and white hair seemed to look almost like the night sky. A deep abyss littered with stars.

The closest thing that Hal's brain supplied was a siren. A beautiful, ethereal creature that lured men to their deaths. As beautiful as it seemed, Hal knew there could easily be danger.

Except, the creature didn't attack or threaten him.

Instead, he seemed almost shy. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, sharp deadly teeth flashing in the light with each motion.

Hal had just opened his mouth, taken a hesitant step forward. He wanted to know, and he needed to know how this happened. There wasn't supposed to be an intelligent, sophisticated life on this planet.

The moment Hal's lips parted, the creature let out a trill. A sound that seemed more scared than aggressive. Before suddenly, the beautiful creature vanished into the pool.

Hal moved before he could think, rushing to the edge of the pool. He peered into the crystal clear water, just in time to take the webbed feet of the creature vanish into a tunnel.

Now that left Hal with two options. He could either report this and wait for backup...

Or...

Or...

He could jump inside. The ring would protect him, and his lungs would be fine. Perks of being a Green Lantern.

That option seemed much more tempting to Hal. Nothing about this scream an outright threat. He felt more like a strange imposing on someone's home. A home that was meant for safety and protection of the young.

Yet, the shimmering water seemed to be calling to Hal. Something in him was trying to push him to get inside. To find the beautiful creature and learn more. Learn how this happened.

Without realizing it, Hal Jordan sealed his fate the moment he dipped a finger into the cool pool. Rippling the steady surface just slightly.

Just enough to get him wrapped up in the strange web created by time and its keeper.

[atmilliways]

What if an AU where Steve actually didn’t graduate, but he’s pretending he did and that he just didn’t get into any colleges because if his parents find out he’ll be out on his ass. He’s eighteen, able to intercept any messages the school does happen to send home, and after Starcourt he changes his emergency contact to Robin’s parents or something.

But it starts with being called into the principal’s office to receive the news. He’s an athlete and the school’s golden boy, so the principal tries to give him an out. He’s a good kid, just obviously got derailed in his studies sometime during junior year… maybe by drugs. Is he *sure* he wasn’t pressured into buying anything by Eddie Munson?

At some point the principal tells Steve point blank that if he sells The Freak out, he can graduate and not have to repeat. All of this can just go away.

Steve still says no, he didn’t get anything from Munson. He’s barely ever talked to the guy. (He’s not even lying—Tommy always took care of that stuff back when Steve still threw parties, albeit with Steve’s money.)

He doesn’t know that Eddie is in a chair just outside the door waiting for his own special “you flunked” audience.

-

Eddie is chewing rabidly on his hair because he knows that if he were offered this deal he would’ve sold King Steve out in a second, and it’s making him feel like a complete shitstain.

He is not offered that deal, which is why he uses his longest sewing needle to puncture a sloooow leak into all four of Principal Higgins’ tires less than an hour later. But this means… he only has a few months of summer break to decide if and how he should thank Steve for not throwing him under the bus.

[brother-emperors]

lupercalia, babyyyy! and suddenly, mark antony appears—

this is a re draw of a comic I posted back in October! If I bothered to keep track of dates, I would’ve scheduled this post weeks in advance and for much earlier in the day like I do with the Ides of March lmao

Nicolaus, Life of Augustus 72, trans. Mark Toher

⭐ other places I’m at! bsky / pixiv / pillowfort /cohost / cara.app

[shorthaltsjester]

you ever think about vex and percy being so stand-offish and snarky to vox machina but vex being the first one to call them all family and percy cushioning scanlan’s leaving by reminding them they are a family, and percy quietly confessing to grog that it’s nice to have an older brother again? you ever think about the fact that percy and vex, members of a party that — except on rare occasions — existed as a group of seven, had five kids?

[jovialjuggernaut-draws]

Prompt: He wasn’t the brightest crayon in the Happy Meal.

Still, he was loaded, and gorgeous, and jacked. By all accounts, the intellect should be something Edward could overlook.

“One more try, Mr. Wayne,” he prompted, desperate for any glimmer, any spark, behind those beautiful blue eyes. “When is a door... not a door?”

Wayne scratched at his perfect jawline, a crooked smile showing his perfect teeth. “I really don’t know, Eddie. Give me a hint?”

Edward considered it. “Okay. A door is not a door when it is neither open nor closed, also known as...”

“Broken?”

Oh, this idiot. This gorgeous, sexy idiot.

[angelmichelangelo]

From the prompt list: #89 for Marc x Layla, pretty please?

“I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.” 

Hands tremble, the paper beneath them crumples under the pressing weight of his thumb. There is his name, the only one that she knows of, smeared in wet ink dipped over and under the dotted line, a stark blue against the black print.

There is the envelope set across him, the pen that he'd used to scrawl his signature. The heavy press of his heart against the inside of his chest. It feels so final, seeing the block letters across the top.

'DIVORCE AGREEMENT'

The rest of the document that requires his involvement remains blank and waiting. His hand hovers for a moment, the muscles beneath his skin aches to reach for the pen and scratch across his name, tear through it and pretend like it perhaps never existed.

He doesn't grab the pen. He doesn't rip the sheet of paper into tiny little shreds and scatter them like snowfall into his waste paper basket.

He folds the paper in thirds, the blunt end of his nail creating a sharp edge and he slips the paper into the awaiting envelope, brown and foreboding, he doesn't seal it quite yet. There's another letter, the lettering and penmanship a little wonky and hasty and he tries to drag his gaze across it but he's repelled by his own scribbled out words, like a sense of second hand embarrassment, each desperate word drips with the copious amounts of alcohol he'd consumed before he'd written it out. It's addressed to her, like some pleading, pathetic attempt to beg for her forgiveness, as well as a ramble of incoherent thoughts, all self absorbed and not at all responsible. He blames her, then blames himself. Blames his mother. Blames the damn world and then tells her, the words barely visible, ink running wet with old, dried tears, 'I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.'

His gut churns, clenching around nothing, he hasn't eaten, hasn't so much as cared at all for himself in these last few days, body cannibalising himself, he's happy for it to happen until there's nothing left. He reaches for the letter, a dry sob heaves through him, and his fist closes around it, paper curling under his grasp, he screws it into a ball until the edges soften and it's nothing, no longer a piece of him, just trash.

He closes the envelope without the added extra. Just the required documents, the ball is essentially in her park now; whether she decides to fill it out on her own accord that was her decision.

He scribbles her name and address across the front. He stares blankly at it, like if he does, something might happen, a shift somewhere in his brain, pulling him back from these frayed edges and stopping him from doing what he knew was wrong. But he just slips the envelope into his bag and sighs. He has to run into town for some errands, he can drop by the post office on his way. Nothing changes, nothing shifts. He sends the papers on their way, like dropping a bomb from a height, and waits patiently for the fallout that follows.

[alexisntedgy]

controversial take but being a longtime ghosts fan over the past few months has just been watching the captain become increasingly more prevalent in tags and fan content to the point where almost no other character’s stories or personalities are explored and usually if they are, it’s in relation to the captain.

I’m gay, a lesbian, and the amount of fanbases I’ve seen fall to mostly straight women and become a whirlpool of one white, conventionally attractive gay man played by a straight man has been so disappointing. the captain is not the only character in ghosts. he is not the deepest or most tragic character in ghosts. it is a found family themed show. we, gay people, do not exist as tragic entertainment to be fetishised. the women in this show are rarely mentioned in comparison to the captain, Kitty had multiple scenes about her abusive sister, is implied to come from a horrific colonialist background and basically came out as asexual in season 5 and nobody talked about it, Mary died in a way that was so horrific they didn’t even show it on camera but havers had five minutes of screen time and he is everything now, apparently.

it’s to the point where you can’t escape it, no matter what tags related to the show you do or don’t follow. I’ve seen it before with the way the good omens fanbase changed from people who respected this incredible story criticising blind faith in religion with queer characters that inherently further that message into people calling them “uwu husbands” or whatever.

I’m not particularly angry, I’m just sad to see that the internet has turned into this again. I love the captain. I love ben, he’s a fantastic actor that I grew up admiring!!! but the captain is not the entire show and I think we need to think about why he takes up like. 85% of fan works.

[tennessoui]

what about some sort of buddy cop, same age, enemies to lovers au where obi-wan is a jedi and anakin is a coruscanti detective and they literally hate each other and have no respect for the other (obi-wan thinks anakin is a waste of the coruscant budget and a jedi wannabe; anakin thinks obi-wan is a pretentious space monk asshole)

(anakin has personally arrested obi-wan for speeding three times, drinking in public spaces 4 times -- the public space was a bar btw -- and indecent public exposure once. that last one was, tbh, fair cause obi-wan had his dick out in an alley way lol)

(obi-wan has literally stalked this asshole coruscanti cop off planet before and arrested him in his capacity as Jedi Knight for not using his turn signal when changing hyperspace lanes (once), for podracing betting (3 times), and for possession of a galacticly banned substance (twice))

it's not that they're obsessed with each other, it's just that something keeps forcing them together in the wildest, most unpredictable situations, and it's annoying as hell because they're completely fed up with each other

then the senate moves to have a new task force stood up to solve a series of Force-related crimes in the Coruscanti underworld. the task force would include a representative from the Jedi Temple and one from the Coruscanti guards, obviously. and really, obi-wan and anakin are the perfect choices! they're both highly intelligent, dedicated, trustworthy, and incorruptible.

if only they'd stop trying to push each other off the 51st story of coruscant and actually put their heads together to solve the crime

[marlsswrites]

Summer camp au, part 18!!

July 18th <3

Fake - @jegulus-microfic - words: 860

First part Previous part

Regulus never realised how much he was attached to James, that was until the brunette started actively avoiding him. He acted like it was nothing, he acted like he didn't care, he pretended that he was happy to have the arrogant, annoying, egotistical James Potter off his back, but that was all fake. Yes, James could be annoying, but it was only ever endearing, he could be arrogant, but oh did he look good doing so.

All he wanted to do was to be close to James again, but that didn't seem to be happening anytime soon. So, he resorted to what he's calling the James tactic, 'Piss him off until he likes you again.' He's very spiteful, get used to it.

James was running slightly late to a session, which was odd, but to be fair he was still asleep when Regulus left and the younger didn't at all try to wake him. That's his problem.

He watched as his leg bounced up and down, his neat converse prominent on the pale green grass, he'd wait five more minutes for James before starting, he'd decided. 

Five minutes turned out to be a really long time when he had nothing to do, his eyes watching over the teens, chasing each other around the benches. Now, one boy stopped on the spot and stared at his shoulder with frightened eyes and pale skin, sooner after letting out a high pitched scream and jumping up and down batting at said shoulder.

Regulus huffed out an unimpressed breath as the group burst out into laughter, the boy suddenly catching on and peeling a plastic spider from his shoulder. Gaze glued to the floor, the kid tossed the spider over his shoulder, it narrowly missing Regulus' head as he caught it with a snort.

"Knock it off." He pointed at the smirking group, holding the toy up in his hand with a raised eyebrow. "We'll start as soon as-"

His voice died in his throat as soon as he lay his eyes upon the sight in front of him, James walked forward, looking very dishevelled and the slightest bit pissed off as he locked eyes with a semi-smirking Regulus. His shirt was scrunched up and cropped, as if it had been shoved over his head in a rush - it probably had. His hair was messier than normal, his golden framed glasses crooked and he wore one untied red converse. 

"Rough morning Potter?" Regulus blinked innocently. 

"You could say that." The other grumbled under his breath.

Regulus hummed in response, focusing rather hard on not letting his gaze travel lower than James' waistline, which was a lot more difficult than you would imagine.

Clearing his throat, Regulus pushed himself off the bench and tilted his head at James - who was wearing a confused expression as he held his lips slightly parted.

The two walked side by side, neither looking at the other as they followed the kids down to the lake. James explained the basics of raft building and went through all of that safety procedures, while Regulus was perfectly fine to just watch him.

He wasn’t quite sure what his feelings were at the moment, he was still slightly head over heels for the boy, but also more than very mad at him for the stunt that he’s pulling. You don’t flirt with someone for days, nearly kiss them, then proceed to ignore them - that’s just fucked up.

-

Now they were out on the lake, and it was safe to say Regulus felt like he was about to throw up. He was sat on a wooden raft, built by thirteen year olds, and he was also surrounded by the said teenagers.

There were two rafts, Regulus’ team and James’ team. He was sure this wasn’t safe, he swore he could hear the cracking of the wooden planks underneath him as the weight increased on the raft and water splashed all over him while June swung the oar around in the air instead of just rowing forward like they were supposed to.

Yet again, he found James staring forward at him, as if he wanted to reach out and touch Regulus. The tough thing is, Regulus would let him, that’s all he wanted. Exactly what he wanted to do was to scowl at the boy, and tell him what he felt.

Just fucking do it you coward.

He wanted to cry, he wanted to shout, he wanted to be loved or at least know what it felt like, even if it was just for a short while. He just wanted to feel, that’s all he’s ever wanted, and oh does James Potter make him feel so much more than he ever thought was capable, the good, the bad, the heart soaring and clenching, the nail biting anxiety, the heat to his cheeks and the glisten to his eyes that he was sure as long as he knew James, would never go away.

Because James would always place a little bit of sunlight in his eyes, he was bound to, because James was his sunlight, in every single way possible that a man can be.

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