#technically i feel like this doesnt count

[junowritings]

Hi! I heard your requests are open and I know you don’t know me very well but I thought I’d send an ask 💛 my first ever 🤭

I’m a 24 year old woman, 5’3, brown hair to my shoulders, brown eyes and glasses. I can be a little introverted at times but when I’m comfortable with someone I tend to come out of my shell. I’m an only child 😔 I love all things creative and I have a love for all things supernatural and nerdy (80s vibes)

For my ideal partner I’m not very specific really I’ve got a vague idea.

My first ideal partner would be someone who’s always willing to challenge me and humour my constant ramblings, taking in even the smallest detail and adding their own spin on what I have to say. An animal lover for sure who can do their own thing but would come home at the end of the day and just sit together and exist. Someone I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my life with even if he isn’t over his crusty dusty musty ex who’s got something in common with drake (and it’s not rap)

My other ideal partner is a little vague so please forgive me.

Male, 6’1 Half-Elf paladin who has a tumultuous relationship with being alive. Grey hair, beard, fuelled by grief - possible dead family. Slight homicidal tendencies (I can fix him) previous dalliances in governance. Girth 15cm, length 16cm, Tip #c88d94

Thank you can’t wait to hear your thoughts your stuff is amazing!! 🥰🤭💛

The way I immediately knew who this is I SWEAR-

I had to go a lot off my own knowledge for this one (also I need to brush up on BG3 a bit bc I think I need a better grasp on the characters.) so hopefully this is a fun to read as it was to write lmao

You know what ask and ye shall receive you joked about him but y'know who I'm gonna match you with...

Let’s just start this off with the obvious. It’s a miracle in itself that you’re still alive after an initial interaction with Ketheric. Anyone who remains in the tower are either prisoners, loyal worshippers of the absolute, or whatever poor souls have somehow managed to survive the shadow lands just to get here. And then there’s you, who exists as what is essentially the weird third party in this whole scenario. 

It’s not as though you intended to be here (or maybe you had who knows), but here you are,   Perhaps those first hours of quiet was what kept you out of sight, keeping to yourself and merely watching as each of the cogs in this plan moved and shifted as though little more than puppets. But once Ketheric takes notice of you he watches. You stand out like a sore thumb afterwards, if only because of how noticeably alive you are compared to everyone around you. Yes there are many there who are alive in a sense (unlike him), but you’ve got a gung-ho way about you that feels like you’d be better suited to be literally anywhere else than here.

Ketheric is heavily involved, as the general of the absolute’s army it is an unspoken must. When he’s not at Moonrise’s peak he is working across every inch of the tower, ever present as the time to strike grows ever closer. Because of this there are plenty of times where you cross paths, with you always throwing an over dramatic abbreviation of his name in greeting as you dart off to hells knows where before he can decide if today is the day he’s had enough. 

You always somehow manage to toe the line of the wrong word at the wrong time, but if that line exists none of the out of pocket commentary have pushed past it yet. Were it anyone else, it’s unlikely that Ketheric would have humored them long enough to finish a joke before making an example of them for anyone foolish enough to get the same idea. And yet you seem to walk away unscathed all the time, whether it’s rattling off a niche fun fact about something so out of the blue, or being straight up sat on his desk or on the floor beside his throne picking apart his war strategies with an eyeroll worthy pun at the end of each one.

You’re a walking anomaly - no one at the tower knows how you showed up or when, and any attempts that his followers have made to ascertain your origins only returns little to nothing that gives a definitive answer. Not to mention the few times that followers wishing to prove themselves have make an example of you somehow seem to always end up the fool. 

In regards to your penchant for any and all things supernatural, it’s safe to say that an undead general, dwelling within the shadowlands where a single wrong misstep out of the tower’s perimeter could lead to your unfortunate end, counts as something that’s right up your alley. There’s not a single inch that he hasn’t caught you hemming or hawing at. With undead creatures roaming the halls, anyone within their right mind would feel but a shred of terror; and yet all he sees upon your face is awe, watching you trail after ghouls where others would deign to keep fair distance.

That fascination extends to Ketheric. He’s already aware that you know of his undead disposition - the tales themselves paint a pretty picture of the dead man walking before you every day - but the true invincibility is new to you. The first time you experienced it firsthand, Ketheric had taken an arrow or two to the jugular from fools wasting what little remained of their lives. Where others' faces were grim at the sight and others horrified, Kethric still remembers the distinctive “HOLY SHIT!” you so eloquently shouted as he’d plucked the arrows from his throat like splinters. After that it’s a miracle if he doesn’t hear you ask about it. Ketheric waves off any attempts of concern for these injuries - they’re but mottles on dead flesh that will knit back together with time. But if you express fascination? That’s…new, and he won’t outright refuse to indulge your curiosity. Feel free to rattle off questions about the limits of his invincibility - just don’t ask how he does it, for your own safety and sanity.

Your habit to lurk and wander doesn’t go unnoticed - not even locked doors can stop that curious nature from getting the better of you and more than once Ketheric has caught wind of his followers’ latest gossip of your whereabouts. He sees it for himself firsthand, even when you haven’t actively been caught red handed. He’s seen you slide through corridors with armfuls of books and blood still dripping from your clothes after an unfortunate slip in Balthazar’s room; has seen the occasional ball roll out from the doorway to his old chambers from your attempts to coax squire into a game of fetch. And he has seen how you worm your way out of trouble you’ve caused - whether it’s being chased from the kitchens for trying to pet the gnolls or somehow convincing the traders for freebies whenever new wares come in. All the while laughing as you do so, grinning as though these foolish little acts mean such a great deal to you.

When had Ketheric last heard the ring of such laughter in the tower’s halls? A century at least. It almost feels out of place here, within the old bones of a place that holds so many memories for such a vengeful man. It should be nipped in the bud; should not be tolerated from a man who’s every waking moment is consumed by his loyalty for the one thing able to bring the only things he had cared for back from death itself. And yet he never stops you, never once cuts that laughter and smile short. Instead he pauses, for but a moment, and listens to you as you disappear into the safety of the chaos on the lower floors for a place to hide away and savor your spoils. It’s only until you’re from sight that he continues on as though nothing occurred, but even after your laughter has died down it persists, nagging in the corner of his mind at fond memories.

For whatever reason you seem content to exist within this abysmal place, and should you prove yourself competent enough to not hinder the big three’s goal with the netherbrain, Ketheric decides that having you here around him till that time comes isn’t the worst thing in the world.

[arcade-confetti]

Being someone who read Under The Red Hood and came out with the firm belief that, for Jason, it's not about killing Joker, it's about Jason wanting proof Batman would choose him over the Joker (bc shelia chose the joker). Makes seeing any other media where it's all about just wanting the Joker dead is a teeny bit frustrating. to be honest

Jason could've killed the Joker himself, really, really easily. Jason kidnaps the Joker before the confrontation. I can't open my comic for a reference right now, but it felt like he had the Joker for quite a bit before the confrontation. He had him. He beat him up with a crowbar. He had every single opportunity to kill the Joker himself, but he didn't because that wasn't his goal. Make no mistake, he did plan for the Joker to be dead by the end of it, but do you see what im trying to say here

Edit: If I knew this post was gonna get 1000+ notes I would've tried to word it better or something, this was a rant I made on the way to the grocery store 😭

It's not about making Batman kill either. When Batman says he won't kill, Jason adjusts and goes, 'Let ME kill the Joker or kill me to stop me' instead. The test is all about Batman choosing him. The whole final confrontation is Jason's first death again. The parent, The Joker, and the explosives. It even ends with Jason unable to move as a bomb goes off right next to him again because the parent didn't choose Jason. And instead tried finding an option that'd benefit them and (consequencely) letting the Joker walk, again, lol, lmao <-in agony

[possamble]

for your consideration

BDHSJSJDJD THE SHAKY THUMBS UP IM,

[turtleblogatlast]

One of the biggest things that makes me see Leo as trans is absolutely the size of his carapace in comparison to his brothers’.

And I’m not talking about height! I’m specifically looking at his shell here, because when you compare him to the others, particularly Donnie who is nearly the same height as Leo, it’s very clear that Leo’s carapace is much longer in proportion to the rest of his body.

Like - standing side by side, even though Donnie is shorter his carapace ends noticeably higher up than Leo’s does. And I like this not only because it really helps push the idea that Leo could very likely be trans (or intersex!), but it’s also just a fun design difference between them.

(It also lends way to future scenarios of Donnie eventually getting taller than Leo, but sitting down still has Leo being the taller one haha.)

[carn1epretzelz]

YAYYYY oc posting :) anyone remember old fnaf fandom days? handing you heavily revamped and redesigned ocs of Vincent and who TECHNICALLY counts as Henry before Henry was even revealed??? >_<

ik the pride flags are a little "modern" for 1998 but idgaf this is for fun and sillies. yapfest in tags my bad

[blookmallow]

was thinking about "whats the most evil thing each of my good-aligned fallout protags have ever done" and knowing me im probably forgetting a major plot point somewhere but its like

star (fallout 3) - murdered moriarty, but it was because he was repeatedly abusing Gob and she couldn't stand it anymore. i dont consider this an act of evil. also responsible for the tenpenny tower massacre but she had no idea it would happen/was genuinely just trying to give the ghouls a chance at a better life and thought she was doing the right thing. i as the player chose to do these things

bonnie (new vegas) - genuinely i cant think of anything actually evil she ever had to do. killing caesar does not count as a murder to me. im not sure killing house counts either. bonnie has managed to mediate and make peace and choose justice almost every single time. new vegas gives you so many options for how to handle nearly every situation you come across and for how bleak the world of new vegas is there is almost always a way to negotiate around unnecessary violence.

robin (fallout 76) - left a man to die bc she was scared and overwhelmed, and had no context for why someone wanted him dead (the saltwater sam thing). has helped the Family in atlantic city somewhat but not in any dramatic way i can think of. mostly just vibing and not bothering anybody. there hasn't been a lot of concrete story building in 76 so i haven't really had many major choice situations (i could debate why i left sam's victim there with him but ultimately it comes down to 'sam is very interesting and unknown npc man is not and i didnt want to have to kill sam about it so i just let it happen')

ruby (fallout 4) - has committed two genocides bc she was forced into it by the narrative

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

In the town I'm hopefully moving to I was worried there wouldn't be a coffee shop (I have a crippling caffeine addiction) but there IS and it's INSIDE THE BOOKSHOP!!!!!!! This is going to be wonderful

[rivilu]

ok you know. the Ellu in dav crossover au is very fun but i am a little bit enchanted by the concept of him AND Rynn at once. Best of both worlds in a sense.

[roxirinart]

YUSSSSSSSSS

[velvetjune]

incredible to think that Alan Wake 2’s existence itself implies that maybe it’ll be about Alan finally leaving the dark place, directly solving the cliffhanger of Alan Wake 1, but instead now Saga, Casey, Rose, Tim, Alice, and (still) Alan are in the Dark Place. Genius subversion of expectations

[peecrank]

actually on the doctor master pairings front how do we feel about 8 and the snakeysnakeman. mysterious and kinda quiet long hair boy and a guy teetering on camp batman villain

[unidentifiedfuckingthing]

i think its really great how many people took "transformers has no* female characters because buh buh biology" unanimously as a challenge to see how many characters they can justify transitioning

[seithr]

gpod morning everyone

[ilovemilestellersmoustache]

Baby Bear

Bob Reynolds x Thunderbolts!Reader

Summary: Bobs pretty sure the entire world knows he’s in love with you… well everyone except maybe you

WC: 2.5K

Thunderbolts HQ – Briefing Room

Y/N had a way of entering a room like she owned it.

She didn’t. Technically, Valentina did or maybe the U.S. government, or whatever shady agency had signed off on assembling a misfit team of reformed killers and walking catastrophes, but none of that mattered the moment she stepped through the door.

The energy shifted.

Like a pressure drop before a storm. Like every molecule in the air sat up a little straighter, paying attention.

Y/N dropped her guns onto the metal table like she was throwing down poker chips, their heavy ends clicking against the surface. Before walking towards the kitchen to find something to absolutely destroy.

The sound jolted him.

Bob blinked once. Then again.

She hadn’t even looked at him yet.

He’d seen her fight armies. He’d watched her slide down glass buildings, run across flaming wreckage and then ask for a mint afterward like it was a Tuesday morning.

She was fearless. Effortlessly confident, quiet dominance and honey slick sarcasm all wrapped up in someone who didn’t just walk into dangers, she made it look like a runway.

And she had no idea that Bob Reynolds, the Golden Guardian of Good, the one man on Earth who could wrestle planets and outrun light, forgot how to breathe whenever she was in the room.

Yelena Belova, seated beside him, noticed immediately.

She always did.

The blonde leaned back in her chair beside Bob with a barely suppressed smirk, elbow resting on the armrest, one boot kicking lazily in the air.

“You’re drooling again,” she whispered, lips barely moving.

Bob straightened, tugging the sleeves of his hoodie down over his wrists. “I’m not drooling,” he whispered back.

“Very charming. Very nonchalant, she doesnt suspect a thing when your pupils turn into hearts.”

John Finally chimes in across them, leaned forward, arms crossed and smug as ever. “Bobby, she’s placed some kind of love spell on you or what? You go all mushy and dumb when shes around.”

Bob glared at him. “You try staying calm around her.”

“Please,” Ava mutters, eyes skimming the mission files in front of her. “Remember last week? She asked him to pass a pen, and he stared at her like she’d just proposed to him in a foreign language.”

“Three minutes,” Bucky said from the shadows in the corner, arms folded, metal hand tapping his thigh. “I counted.”

Alexei gave a booming laugh from where he was sprawled on a nearby couch, half eating a granola bar like it was his last meal. “You all tease him, but I say let Robert feel things!! He is soft hearted. Like bear. Very big. Very powerful. Very… squishy.”

“I’m literally indestructible,” Bob muttered through gritted teeth.

“Yes, yes,” Alexei waved him off. “Physically. But emotionally? You are like bear and she is child who loves you. Like story where she eats bears food and you know sleep in bears bed, but Robert you cannot get her in your bed- Wait! no no no. You are like crying child and she is baby bear that makes child stop crying.”

Then, as if summoned by the sheer force of Bob’s rising internal panic, Y/N walks her way back in looking right at him.

“Hey Bob,” she said, voice low and smooth. She tilted her head slightly, lips quirking into a lazy half-smile. “You got a hair tie?”

Bob froze.

His brain arguably one of the most complex thing in existence crashed.

Hair tie. She asked for a hair tie. Words. Say words, idiot.

“Uh- yeah. Yes,” he stammered, fumbling into his hoodie pocket. “I always carry extras. Because, you know… uh… long hair. Wind. Physics.”

She smiled, this soft, devastating thing that punched straight through his solar plexus. “Alright… thanks.” She Giggled

Her fingers brushed his as she took the black hair tie. She tied her hair into a high, messy ponytail, strands falling like silk over the curve of her neck, then sauntered off toward the training wing.

Bob stared at her completely entranced mouth slightly opened.

Yelena gave him a slow, pitying pat on the shoulder. “You poor, poor boy.”

Bob didn’t reply.

Mostly because his heart was beating somewhere around the edge of the universe and his entire body felt like it was trying to go supernova.

⸻

Thunderbolts HQ – Game Room

The downtime between missions was dangerous for one reason: the team got bored. And when the Thunderbolts got bored, anything can happen.

So, naturally, a storm of chaos had descended on their shared Game room. Alexei had rigged the speakers to play a playlist titled “Avengerz Promo Sponsor Party Mix”

John commandeered the liquor cabinet, and Yelena drunk on three Moscow Mules and pure chaos declared, “Truth or Dare. No cowards. No skipping. No secrets.”

Bob Reynolds had made the mistake of entering the room three minutes too late.

He saw the bottle in the center of the circle. The shit eating grins. The glint in Yelena’s eye.

He tried to retreat.

“Nope,” she said, catching him by the sleeve like a hawk snagging prey. “You’re glowing like a guilty conscience. Sit down, loverboy. Time to be emotionally violated for entertainment.”

“I’d really rather not—”

“Sit.”

Bob sat.

The circle was complete: Yelena, John, Ava, Bucky, Alexei with a martini in one hand and a sandwich in the other and Y/N, sprawled across a beanbag chair, legs crossed, sipping a fizzy drink.

It was John who spun the bottle. It clinked around like a grenade waiting to explode and landed on Bob.

“Oh no,” he mumbled.

“Oh yes,” Yelena purred, eyes lighting up like Christmas. “Truth: Have you ever had a very obvious, glowing, borderline worshipful crush on anyone in this room?”

Bob blinked. Then again. “I—I mean—define ‘worshipful’—”

“Oh my god,” Ava groaned, facepalming. “Just admit you’re in love with Y/N and we can all move on with our lives.”

Y/N, who had just popped a piece of candy in her mouth, blinked. “Wait, what?”

Bob looked like someone had unplugged his brain mid thought.

“You guys think Bob likes me?” she said, the laugh bubbling out of her like it was the most ridiculous concept she’d ever heard. “Why?”

Everyone groaned like it physically hurt.

“Why?” Yelena repeated, throwing her hands up. “Because he goes full blabbering when you walk into a room. Because he stares at you like you’re the damn moon during an eclipse. Because he carries extra hair ties like he’s your personal assistant-slash-devotee. And don’t get me started on the poetry—”

“I do not write poetry—” Bob cut in quickly, face now the color of Alexei’s suit.

“Yes, you do,” John said flatly, sipping a beer. “I read it. It’s in your dumb little notebook. You rhymed ‘dagger’ with ‘swagger’ and compared her to fire and divine judgment.”

Bob buried his face in his hands. “This is actual torture.”

Bucky, already drunk out of his mind laughed so hard he nearly choked on his drink.

Y/N, meanwhile, was still staring at Bob like he was a jigsaw puzzle she’d finally realized was a love letter. She didn’t look embarrassed. Just… quietly stunned.

“Huh,” she said at last.

“Huh?” Yelena echoed in horror. “That’s it?”

Y/N turned her full attention to Bob. “That’s kind of sweet, actually.”

Bob looked up through his fingers, stunned. “It is?”

“Yeah.” She smiled at him genuine, unguarded. “I always thought you were cute. Didn’t know you felt the same.”

His jaw dropped. “Wait, what?”

“I thought you weren’t a fan of me that much. Or, you know… had some secret laser vision so you couldn’t look me in the eyes ever.”

Bob blinked slowly, like someone was rebooting his system.

Y/N shrugged, leaning forward now, elbows on her knees. “Guess we’re both a little oblivious.”

Yelena made a strangled noise in the back of her throat. “What?! That’s it?! No dramatic kiss? No screaming ‘finally’ and falling into each other’s arms? What kind of slow burn payoff is this?!”

Y/N rolled her eyes with a grin, stood up, and stretched like a cat. “Sorry to disappoint, Belova.”

She turned to Bob, tossed one of her hands to him like a casually flirty peace offering. “Come on, Golden Boy. Let’s go spar. You can glow at me while I kick your ass.”

He caught it barely and stood, grinning like an idiot. “Only if you go easy on me.”

“Never.”

As they walked out, shoulder to shoulder, Bob practically levitating with joy, the rest of the room watched them go with varying degrees of amusement and disbelief.

Alexei raised his glass. “Look at my baby bear and my crying not so much crying now child.”

“Glad that’s out now, don’t know how much more yearning I could read about, but you do know they’re gonna be all gross and disgusting now right?” John added, taking a long sip.

Yelena stared at the door, still stunned. “Better then having to watch Bob sulk every day, you know what… Someone write this down. We made actual emotional progress today.”

Ava sighed. “I give them two weeks before we catch them together doing it somewhere crazy.”

Everyone nodded solemnly.

It wasn’t 2 weeks. It was 10 minutes after.

⸻

A/N: TOWER FICS ARE SOOOOOOO BACK

please comment more ideas!!

[isekyaaa]

My downfalls as a writer on Tumblr is that (1) I enjoy writing sequels, and even worse, (2) don't update them on a regular and consistent basis. And probably (3) I'm too lazy to post them at more ideal times of the day.

[residentwordsofaffirmationdealer]

i did the math he's been an adult for ~55 years (went to college in december, 1969)

not 2 be overly-negative or w/e but the term "batboys" genuinely irks me....... like you do realise dick has been an adult for like forty years now right