#i swear they are so good at writing

[mayowayo]

just here to recommend one of my FUCKING FAVORITE mitsukou fanfics ^^

[erabu-san]

I enjoyed every second of this quest

[This art has platonic intention. Thank you for not tag ship!]

[cozylittleartblog]

Columbo and the Knight (1984)

put me in the universe where Columbo ran through the 1980s and had a crossover episode with Knight Rider. I think they deserved it, and I am not just saying that because they're my two favorite Old Shows. @telebeast wrote a little fanfic blurb about it and I HAD to visualize it into a comic (which is also the longest comic I have finished thus far at five pages...), so writing credit goes to them.

Autism W!

[starry-bi-sky]

Unpleasant Revelations - DPxDC Ficlet Idea for the Stillborn Au

"Have you met my youngest, Damian, Mr. Masters?"

Its only from twenty years of long, hard experience and practice that Vlad doesn't increase the room temperature from 'borderline uncomfortably cool' to 'unbearably hot' the moment Bruce Wayne pulls his youngest and "only" biological son out in front of him.

He puts only in quotations because twelve year old Damian Wayne looks scarily, uncannily like one Daniel Brown. Jack and Maddie's foster son, second victim of their foolishness, and only other halfa in existence. Second only to him.

It's nauseating how similar they look. From the scowl and terrible glare on the young boy's face, to his brown skin -- which was only a few shades lighter than Daniel's, the shape of his nose, and even the strange winged edge of his eyebrow. Something that Vlad has long since come to find endearing on the child he considered a son of his own. The only difference was that Damian had dark, sharp green eyes.

Daniel's eyes were blue. The same glacier shade as his father's, who stood behind Damian with a proud, oafish smile on his visage.

It was infuriating how similar they look. Vlad might not have rapidly swung the room temperature from one extreme to the other, but he can't stop himself from letting the fury burning within his core from slipping out and raising the temperature up a few degrees.

Because it really only meant one thing.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were related.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were brothers.

Standing in front of him, it was clear as day. He can already picture a phantom image of Daniel standing beside Damian, the same scowl written on his face, the same glare carved into his eyes. The only difference being the dark, exhausted circles beneath them that seemed to be permanently painted onto his skin. The only thing missing being the permanent loneliness and vigilance permeating his being like a scar.

This, if revealed, would be enough to ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation. Or, at the very least, darken it quite a bit. The great philanthropist Bruce Wayne with another secret blood child? One related to his youngest? One that had been put into foster care? Seemingly thrown away?

It would be a firestorm.

One that Vlad is not keen on starting.

It would ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation, yes. But it would hurt Daniel in the process -- the harassment he would face alone might just be enough to break that fragile child completely. That was just not something he could allow. Or, even worse, bring him into his biological father's care and custody -- something Vlad was even less willing to allow.

It's not out of kindness to Wayne that Vlad will keep mum about this.

His grip on his champagne flute tightens, just a bit. He's still aware enough of the world around him to not let it shatter in his hands. His plastered, pleasant smile tightens around the corners, and he forces his focus to slide from Damian to Wayne.

"The resemblance is uncanny, Mister Wayne." He says, slanting his smile to the side slyly. Although he's not talking about the resemblance between Wayne and his son. Rage simmers beneath his skin, burning coal and embers in the core of his chest, nestled between his lungs, as he meets the man's eyes.

Wayne swaggles his head proudly, his ditzy smile widening as he squeezes his son's shoulder affectionately. Bastard, Vlad wants to spit.

He breathes in through his nose, and exhales out through his mouth. The champagne in his hand cools, and stops its unusual bubbling.

The Damian boy scoffs under his breath, his mouth still coiled upward into a scowl. With the revelation of his blood relation to Daniel evident, Vlad's not sure if he should find it endearing or not.

He is not Daniel, so he decides that it's just simply irritating. He decides to ignore it.

"And you said he was your only biological son?" He asks, voice lilting and head tilting. He knows its a suspicious question at worst, insulting at best. But considering Wayne's past proclivities, he can hardly call it an unexpected question.

Damian puffs in great offense, face twisting angrily. It reminds him of Daniel when Vlad insisted that he was wrong about something or other, and for a moment his heart swells, fond.

But this is not his child, and so the feeling quickly crashes and burns, simmering back into rage. This was not Daniel -- this was his replacement. A replacement that Wayne was free to keep.

Wayne chuckles, idiotically, as if he'd said some funny joke. Vlad's other hand, the one gripping his cane -- something he's required ever since he was dispatched from the hospital all those lonely years ago -- tightens instead. He grinds his teeth -- him and Jack Fenton would get along like a house on fire, he hates it.

"I can understand why you'd ask that, Mister Masters," Wayne says, squeezing Damian's shoulder again, "but yes, Damian is my only biological son. Although that doesn't mean I don't love my other children any less."

Bastard.

For all his posturing and flouncing about caring for his city and his children, Vlad never would have thought the Prince of Gotham capable of abandoning one of them.

But, well.

They all have their dark secrets.

And what one man throws away, another man picks up. If Bruce Wayne didn't want the treasure child that was Daniel Brown, then Vlad Masters was more than happy to take him instead.

"I see."

[lukecastellanshandholder]

I think that the one thing that I will always absolutely loathe the movies for (other than single handedly screwing up the whole plot of the story) is for making up that bullshit rule about Zeus declaring that no god can have any kind of contact with their children. That’s completely not true but now a huge chunk of people in the fandom believe that rule as canon( because most like to pick and chose what is canon and what is not, and sell head canons as being canon to the books ).

The only rules that are stated in the books relating to demigods and their parents is that 1). Gods cannot blatantly and outwardly help their demigod children during a basic quest (such as help them fight monsters or help them travel somewhere for the quest). 2). That as of the time right after WW2 the big 3 gods are not to sire any demigod children as part of their oath that they made on the River Styx (which Zeus and Poseidon definitely didn’t break ). Gods are still able to spend time with their demigod children and mortal lovers on times out side of quests. However, it’s seen as taboo mainly because the other gods use them having to much to do, and too many demigod children as an excuse to just not do anything for them. Not send them a birthday card, not a visit, and not even being claimed in most cases.

That’s giving the gods too much slack! People like to say "well, they’re gods. They’re trying their best." No they’re not! And this is what Luke’s character blatantly points out!

Hermes not even bothering to visit every once and a while? Hermes not trying to help in even any little way with Luke and May's situation? It’s a main reason why Luke becomes so angry at the gods and even thinks about saying yes to Kronos’ proposal.

And who is the example of what could’ve happened if Hermes would’ve done literally anything? Anything at all? Percy.

Percy didn’t like the gods and Poseidon very much in the beginning ( he doesn’t really like them much now but, you know) but Poseidon at least helps Percy in little ways that can fly under the radar of Zeus and the others. The Pearls to help Percy escape from the underworld? Tyson? Poseidon even crashes Percy’s birthday party ffs! Sure Poseidon isn’t there every time Percy scrapes his knee or fights a monster, but he still shows Percy that he somewhat cares about him.

All Hermes does is tell others how much he cares for Luke and "really truly loves him", but does nothing to prove to Luke that he truly cares. But it’s not just Hermes who does this, almost all of the gods do this! Why? Because they know that they can just say "oh, well I was busy and I tried my best" and others will just believe them and carry on. Or worse, they’ll take what the gods say to heart and demonize anyone who would try to oppose the gods so that it’s seen as a bad thing to hold the Gods accountable for the way they act.

And this is a clear example of the overarching theme that the gods are actually just an oppressive establishment that won’t ever really change unless it’s destroyed or overthrown.

In this essay I will…

[whumpsoda]

I. I love vampire hunters turned thralls. Brainwashed into adoring little pets to creatures of which they once chased down with the goal of killing… UGH just someone who used to hate the thing they now address as master… bonus points if they get their memories erased and have no memory of their hunter past :3

[hajihiko]

Multilingual 🌍

Fuyuhiko: its beneficial to understand when rivals are talking in secret

Sonia: diplomacy is easier when you speak their language too

Hajime: duolingo library forced speedrun

Akane: worked in customer service

Kazuichi is just more of a Language of Numbera guy 😋

[mrghostrat]

Big Name Feelings - 5/?

chapter 5: first hug, first kiss

None of Crowley's 4K lenses or selfie-cams in sunbeams did any justice to the depth of his amber irises, which positively shone in person, even in the diminishing light of their hotel overheads. The stark cool glow of the iPad screen glinted off the rivulets of brown, brightening and blending the lightest edges into a silky gold. He spent hours every day pouring over palettes and hand mixing the perfect pigments, but that yellow was the most beautiful colour Aziraphale had ever seen in his life.

[ full size art ]

[postazkabansiriussupremacy]

Surprise. Pt. 3 Post Azkaban!Sirius x Mom!Reader

You and Sirius have a chat.

Part One. Part Two.

Taglist: @box-of-kinderjoy @projectdreamwalker @goldenharrysworld @navs-bhat @sagestack

You aren’t sure what you expected Sirius to look like after more than a decade in Azkaban, but this is much worse than you pictured. The dirty, malnourished, manic-looking man standing in front of you is a far cry from the healthy, handsome Sirius you once knew. The sight of him in this horrid state is enough to grow a lump in your throat.

You always had complex feelings about Sirius after he was sent to Azkaban. It was easy to be angry at him for betraying everyone and causing the death of James and Lily, but you were more than angry. You were devastated, to say the least. It’s impossible to say how many nights you cried yourself to sleep. Even knowing what he’d done, it was hard to imagine the one you loved rotting away in Azkaban.

The first few years without him were hell on earth. It wasn’t long after he was incarcerated you found out you were pregnant, and whilst everyone in the wizarding world was partying and celebrating the downfall of You-Know-Who, you were curled up in a ball sobbing and wondering how in the world you were going to do this all on your own.

It was difficult, but you managed. As the years went by and Estelle grew bigger, things got easier. You were able to push Sirius out of your mind and go on without him, but not without continuous effort. With every life change and new milestone reached, you couldn’t help but wonder how differently things would be if Sirius were there too.

For Estelle, you tried your very best to make sure she never wanted for anything, but your heart ached at the thought of her never knowing the love of a father. Estelle used to ask about him (“Why don’t I have a dad?” “Where is he?” “Is he dead?”), and you were never sure what to tell her.

You aren’t proud of it, but as her questions persisted, you lied to her. You lied and told Estelle you don’t know who her father is. She stopped asking about him after that.

You don’t know why you lied. It would’ve been much simpler to tell the truth, but maybe a small part of you wanted Estelle to blame you rather than blame Sirius for her lack of a father. It felt a little stupid, but you didn’t want Estelle to hate the idea of her father. You supposed it would be easier for her to accept her father doesn’t know she exists, rather than to accept her father is a mass murderer in prison for life.

Then you got an owl from Remus Lupin—someone you hadn’t heard from in over a decade—asking to have lunch and talk. You were surprised but receptive. You assumed he met Estelle at Hogwarts and he wanted to know of her lineage under the guise of catching up, and you were half right.

After having Estelle in class and putting two and two together, Remus decided to get in touch with you to tell you the truth about Sirius.

After taking in all of the new information, you felt numb. It’s a lot to take in—learning that Sirius is innocent, and Peter Pettigrew of all people was the one to cause all of this pain.

You came home, politely asked Estelle how her day was, and barely heard her as she told you about the stray dog she found today. Too lost in your thoughts, you ‘listened’ to Estelle’s rambling for about ten minutes before realizing she was talking about Sirius’s animagus.

It had to be Sirius. Why else would there be a giant, wolf-like black dog hanging around your house?

You pretended to Estelle that you’d never seen the dog before, and maybe he belongs to some of the muggles that live further up the road. You carry on your evening as normal, quickly changing the subject anytime she began to talk about the dog, and had her go to bed at a reasonable time.

Only when you were sure Estelle was asleep did you come outside.

You suppose you’ve been staring too long as Sirius speaks up first. It’s hard to read his expression, and his voice is deeper than you remember. “I’d ask how have you been, but clearly you’ve been busy.”

You try to swallow the lump in your throat, urging yourself not to cry. After meeting with Remus and immediately coming home to Estelle, you haven’t had any time to process the information you’ve been given.

There were so many times you’d asked yourself “What if Sirius were still here?” and then immediately pushed the thought away, reminding yourself he’s a horrible man. A traitor and a murderer.

Only he’s not. He’s none of those things.

He’s suffered terrible consequences that he’s done nothing to deserve, and that’s heartbreaking. The last thirteen years of his life were ripped away from him and he was sent to live in horrid conditions, just because he and James chose to trust Peter with something they shouldn’t have.

A heavy weight of guilt drops into your stomach. Sirius had done nothing wrong and yet everyone—including yourself—thought he got what he deserved by being locked away. You hardly even thought to question whether he was truly guilty or not.

Your throat tightens and your lip quivers, and you step forward to wrap your arms around his waist. You can feel the bones underneath his skin, and you sniffle, feeling a couple of tears escape from your eyes.

Sirius takes a moment to respond, a little shocked by your sudden hug and crying. He supposes it’s not unwarranted though.

He reciprocates your hug, one dirty hand cradling the back of your head and the other wrapped around your torso. It’s almost strange how natural it feels. He rests his chin on the top of your head and faintly smiles. You smell good, and it’s wonderful to get such an unexpectedly warm welcome.

Although he has Remus to thank for that. If Remus hadn’t reached out to you first, Sirius imagines this meeting would be going a lot differently.

After a few moments of letting yourself cry into his chest, you finally speak, your voice cracking a bit as you do so. “You smell like shit.”

Sirius gives you a tight squeeze and chuckles quietly, “You live in a cave for a year and we’ll see how you fare.”

You purse your lips and feel more tears forming. He’s been living in a cave? Your throat feels tight as you breathe, “I’m so sorry, Sirius… For everything.”

“There’s nothing you could’ve done.” He responds immediately. There was no way for you to know the truth, and even if you did, it probably wouldn’t have changed anything. “…Did you know you were expecting when it happened?”

You shake your head. “No. Didn’t figure it out until a few weeks after you’d been gone.”

“I-… I can’t find the words to tell you how sorry I am.” Sirius whispers. His adam’s apple bobs. “I can’t say when, but I promise I’ll come back to the both of you.”

“I know you will.” You say quietly, nodding. You knew from the beginning he wouldn’t be able to stay, but it still hurts nonetheless. New tears fall onto your cheeks and Sirius’s prisoner robes.

You cry less for yourself and more for him. Even though he’s successfully crawled his way out of Hell, he still can’t rest. Sirius hasn’t known peace in over a decade, and there’s no telling if he ever will again.

Sirius is the first to pull away. Trying to remain strong for your sake, he clenches his jaw as he looks down at your tearful face. He uses his thumbs to wipe the tears off your cheeks, then he pulls your face forward for a kiss. You waste no time reciprocating, your hands moving to the back of his head and tangling in his greasy hair.

Once again Sirius is the first to pull away, ending the kiss too soon for his liking, but knowing he needs to go. He’s been here far too long. He kisses your forehead. “I love you, and I love Estelle.”

“I love you, Sirius.” You reply, looking into his eyes. They’re the same eyes you see every time you look at your daughter.

“This isn’t goodbye.” He says kissing your forehead once more. He steps off your property and out of the confines of the anti-apparation wards. He gives you one last look, then winks. “You look absolutely stunning, by the way.”

You scoff, a stupid grin forming on your face as he disapperates.

You stare at the spot he left from, wiping your tears away.

Realistically, you don’t know if Sirius will be able to keep his promise. You may never see him again. There’s no telling if his name will ever be cleared, but you hold onto hope, and you will wait for him.

[hedwig221b]

I'm smiling so hard at my current (and only) wip, it's so delicious so good I'm obsessed with it 💗 it's everything I want and need from an abo fic, it's unashamedly self-indulgent and just ahhhhh

I think it will beat Predators for me as the best fic I've written. Also it's gonna be the longest one. I know for sure some of you (you know who you are) are gonna be obsessed with this fic just like I am currently bc we share a brain

I'm so excited for you kittens to read it 💗 I'm smiling again agdjdjsllqhskeeieowjsqljswlwl

EDIT:: IT'S HERE!

[virgothozul]

old art I did after reading dog petting heist by @/robnauts on ao3 // @plounce on tumblr

It’s so tender and fun and soft and intimate and somehow goofy and quiet 😭💕 help i love it so much

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27356893 (Teen rating)

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Ok well i had the brief thought “what about an ER nurse Eddie au?” and then this popped fully formed into existence so fuck it Friday pt 2.. warnings for smoking and vague references to critically injured kids

“That doesn’t seem very healthy.”

Smoke curls up from the cigarette held loosely in Eddie’s hand. “It’s not, particularly.”

Buck’s hands are in his pockets as he strolls away from the glass doors out into the ambulance bay where Eddie is doing the mature, professional equivalent of playing hide and seek. He comes to a stop barely a foot or two away from where Eddie leans against grimy concrete. “Didn’t know you were a smoker.”

“I’m not,” Eddie sighs, “Particularly.” He looks over Buck’s face as he takes a drag, cataloging bruises and cuts. He hadn’t been the one to look him over before he was discharged, probably because he was out here avoiding having to do so. “Only when it’s- only after the bad shifts.” And only once a month, even if the bad shifts come again and again. He bought this pack in January, it’s stale as shit.

Buck’s eyes follow the smoke as it drifts skyward. “Rough one today?”

Eddie thinks he probably doesn’t have to explain to Buck that it’s sometimes better when a kid is dead on arrival so he doesn’t have to try his best to administer care he knows will be useless. He doesn’t have to explain a day where nothing goes right and he loses more people than he can save and he still has to walk away from someone’s parent or wife or sister, left behind forever in a waiting room on the worst day of their life, and go on to lose the next person too. Doesn’t have to explain why he’s out here, and not in there. “Mm. We’ve got this repeat customer, always hate to have him back.”

Buck’s eyes flick to his face before they settle somewhere around his elbow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. He seems like a nice guy. I worry about him. He’s here too often.”

Buck doesn’t look up. “What was he in for this time?”

“Minor concussion. Bruising. Lacerations.” Eddie sucks cancer into his lungs. “Heard a house fell on him.” Exhales it into the night.

Buck does look up this time, eyes a darker blue out here in the shadows. “Part of a house. Just a staircase and the- like, the balcony, really.”

“Maybe he should stay away from those.”

“From houses?” Buck asks, half his mouth twitching into a smile.

Eddie rests his head on the wall behind him. “Guess that’s not really practical.”

“No.” Buck is quiet for a moment, one hand slipping out of his pocket and running through his hair. Eddie wonders what he looks like, when he’s not here. He’s more styled, sometimes, when things aren’t very bad. He wonders if he’s usually all gelled up and neat. Eddie kind of likes the loose curls. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Making your day worse.” Buck looks genuinely apologetic, and Eddie shakes his head.

“The guy made it out okay this time.” Buck is just close enough that Eddie can kick at his boot with his sensible orthopedic sneaker. “You didn’t even need stitches.”

“That’s good.” Eddie’s left foot is pressed along the inside of Buck’s right, and Buck is staring down at them. “His favorite nurse was on break. I would have missed you if someone else had to do them.”

Eddie laughs, just a few bursts of soundless oxygen. “You gotta find new ways to see me before something happens that I can’t fix.”

Buck moves, taking the few steps necessary to lean against the wall beside him. Carefully, he takes the cigarette from Eddie’s hand, holds it between two of his own fingers, and takes a drag. Eddie watches it happen like he’s monitoring somebody’s pulse ox, and when Buck coughs he laughs again, louder this time. “Fuck,” Buck says, laughing too. “Thought that would be cooler than it was.”

“Smoking isn’t cool, firefighter Buckley,” Eddie says, taking the cigarette back and pulling from it again between smiling lips.

“Hm,” Buck says, grinning out into the night. Then he sighs, and rolls his head along the concrete to look at Eddie. “I think there’s nothing you can’t fix.”

They’re very close. “There’s lots I can’t fix.”

Buck shrugs like he disagrees. “I also think I’d like to find other ways to see you.”

Buck’s eyes are even more in shadow at this angle, and they’re the color of the lake back in El Paso that he and a bunch of kids went to after graduation, drunk off beer somebody’s cousin got for them, skinny dipping with breathless terrified delight under bright constellations. “Then ask me.”

Buck inhales as Eddie exhales. “What time’s your shift end?”

“5:30 AM. So, probably 6:15.”

Buck traces the two fingers he’d used to hold the cigarette down Eddie’s arm. “You wanna get breakfast with me?”

“Yes. I would.”

Buck smiles, and Eddie snubs out the cigarette on the wall between them. “I’ll meet you here?”

“Alright.” He takes a step forward, then a step to the right so he’s standing in front of Buck. “Two hours.”

“Uh huh.”

He should really get back inside. They’re understaffed, as always, and there are too many patients, as always, and not enough beds, as always. “See you then.” He doesn’t make any move to leave.

“See you then,” Buck almost whispers. He leans forward, and Eddie still doesn’t move, so he presses a tiny kiss to the corner of his mouth for just a moment. His lips are warm. Eddie hadn’t noticed it was cold outside.

Buck pulls back and leans against the wall again. Eddie smiles, puts a hand in his pocket, and walks back toward the doors.

[erabu-san]

I enjoyed every second of this quest This art has platonic intention, please don't tag ship

[loganslowdown4]

*in an alternate April 13th, 2019*

All Sides: *burst into Janus’ room* SURPRISE!

Janus: AAAAHHHHH WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?? Go away! Leave me alone!

Patton: No Jan, listen, after much deliberation, we decided to take Thomas to the callback today after all!

Patton: *whispers to Logan* Was that the right word?

Logan: *nods*

Janus: What? Really? Are you all serious??

Patton: Yep! Let’s just get in the car and go!

*they all pile in and drive to Burger King*

All: SURPRISE!

Janus: Ok, what the hell is this?

Logan: *ahem* Patton wanted to have a little dinner for you here as a surprise. In appreciation for you trying to protect Thomas as we all do. He also thought you’d appreciate the deception, as that’s your, um, ‘thing’—

Janus: I see. *to Patton* Thank you. You lying successfully is actually a huge gift to me. *grins* It must have been very hard for you to say all that—

Patton: It was! But it’s no lie that we love and appreciate you!

Janus: And to you that meant treating me to… Burger King?

Patton: Only the best for our pal!

Janus: Uh huh. Well, not that I don’t appreciate this but… weren’t we supposed to go to the wedding this evening?

Logan:

Roman:

Virgil:

Remus:

Patton: Oh… shit.

Janus: *grins* Even better gift than surprise burgers. Profanity from Patton.

[fosermi]

On this ARK we sail together...

@stillafanofsonic enabled me and I RAN with it.

[bugeyedfreaks]

I still haven’t been able to pick up a copy of the new PPG comic but you know what? I saw this panel online from it and…

…if this is like a Super Zeroes-esque comic where the girls are envisioning alternate versions of themselves with different destinies and if Blossom wants to be a detective GOD! BLESS! whoever wrote this ‘cause it’s perfect.

Bubbles as a bunny and Buttercup as a wrestler are also both perfect but that goes without saying. 🙏