#two left!

[onejellyfishplease]

Only two(2) more verses

LETS GOOOOOOOOO

[anthrofreshtodeath]

Is it too late to request mafia prompt?

It was not too late! I got nostalgic about No New Friends this weekend, so let's drop in on that universe.

“Ma!” Cristina Rizzoli calls out to Jane from about twenty yards away, marching toward Jane’s perch on a stone wall not far from the beach. She pulls Cicciu along, and he buries his nose in a map as his sandals scrape the sand under them. “Ma!”

“What! What,” Jane asks neither time, but softens her demand when Cristina gets up close, flush with exhilaration and the sun. To see her children in the Sicilian summer fills her with both accomplishment and pride.

“Can we go take some pictures over there while we wait for Mommy?” Cristina begs before Jane ever says no, such that Jane can’t. 

Jane turns, seabreeze sweeping through her hair when she makes a show of scoping the area. “Sure,” she says finally. She sighs, dropping her shoulders just to get a rise out of her daughter. The bait is taken, because Cristina stamps her sixteen-year old foot with all her might. Jane chuckles lowly. “Just stick, together, a’right? And stay where I can see you. I’m gonna try and wrangle Mommy so we can all enjoy the water.”

“Oh, thank you,” Cristina squeezes Jane, her camera bulky between them. “Thank you, thank you. We’ll be right over there!”

“Yeah, yeah, go. Practice your Italian!” Jane yells after her children, who wave her off.

She turns her attention to the street market just across the way from where she stands. People peddle seafood, fresh produce, and baked goods that she knows she’s going to eat entirely too much of during this trip. There are men selling juicing tools for citrus, there are women in front of booths full of takeaway pasta, there are fishmongers tossing their catches from a cooler to a bed of ice, and yet, Jane’s concern is only the woman in the white sundress handing a euro bill to a boy who gives her wrapped up cheese in return.

Jane can wait no longer. She approaches. “Scusi, signura,” she says in that natural, liquid Sicilian she has, “parra sicilianu?” Excuse me, ma’am, do you speak Sicilian?

The woman places the cheese in her cloth bag and turns, her honey hair wavy under her summer hat. When she turns, she smiles in a way only Jane has made her for the last seventeen years. “No, ma capisciu si parra chiù lentamenti,” she hedges. No, but I’ll understand if you speak more slowly.

Somehow, Maura’s recognition of the ruse and her willingness to play along turns Jane’s joke into a fire in her belly. Jane sticks her hands in her pants’ pockets and steps closer. They share air. “Hmm, beni, mi po’ diri comu si va a Taormina…?” Just as Maura is about to kiss her, Jane deepens the roleplay and breaks their stare so she can pull her own map out of her satchel, one identical to their son’s. She opens it up, and they both move to the side so an old woman can buy her own cheese. Well, can you tell me how to get to Taormina?

Maura pulls the top of the map toward her between two fingertips. “Ah. Devi turnar indetru,” she trails down the coast to Taormina, tapping her fingertip toward it, and then up Jane’s chest until she strokes Jane’s chin. You have to go back.

“Ah, minchia,” Jane shudders. The curse rattles out of her lips in a whisper and her face flushes. She regrets foregoing Maura’s kiss, leans in herself this time. Well shit.

Maura doesn’t pull away. She stops Jane just before they come together. “Si ti po’ jiri in machina?” she asks, but Jane is already in motion. Can I drive you?

Their tongues slip against one another, and Jane puts all that precious height, that familiar body weight, into it. When she opens her eyes, Maura’s crow’s feet are close and Jane wants to fly. “You sure seem to know a lot of Sicilian to me. And do you routinely offer strangers rides?” she teases just so that she stays put on the ground. 

“Are you a stranger? You don’t taste like one,” Maura growls, bringing the kiss back. Their lips smack a trio of times when Maura weaves her free hand into the hair on the back of Jane’s head. “Although you do taste different.”

“All the Sicilian oranges?” Jane offers with a smirk. “Or the coffee.”

“The power,” Maura corrects her. She looks down to where their hips meet. “The honor. A made man is stronger on the tongue. Now let’s go get the children before they wander off.”

[ato-dato]

I wish gay people were real :(

[dancefloors]

Right now Israel's bombing Rafah, the last refuge for a million Palestinians, where they were previously ORDERED to evacuate to and are now trapped in while the US news cycle is dominated by Big Football Game And Celebrities In Attendance (at which Israel also aired a million dollar propaganda video). I wish I could say this is unbelievable.

[birdiegray01]

Bruce gets Damian legos because he’s trying to connect with him and the two end up completely missing patrol because they were to busy building all of Gotham with the legos

[soappox]

they're amusing to me

[patrick-zweigs]

paul atreides and feyd-rautha harkonnen

dune: part two, dir. denis villenueve // dune, frank hubert // the illustrated dune, illustrations by john schoenherr // kerri maniscalco // the double in gothic fiction, alex heath // kittos epoiesen // dune: part one, dir. denis villenueve // fire & blood, george r.r. martin

[chappelroans]

on being left

drift, alek olsen / cheryl strayed / u.k / u.k / trista mateer / rebecca malakai / u.k / marya hornbacher / jan heller levi

[cowardlykrow]

Stop light shenanigans

Extra:

[fantastic-nonsense]

society if Two-Face was Batman's arch-nemesis instead of the Joker:

[ionomycin]

Swim free

[wombywoo]

pining ♡

based on @valiants historical au which I can't stop thinking about...

[kaidatheghostdragon]

Good reveal au, where after learning phantom's identity and realizing the atrocities that the GIW have committed (or alternatively, ethical science au, where they find out the GIW plagarized them), the fenton parents decided to create the 'ultimate ghost-ending weapon' and sell it to the agents.

They go absolutely overboard, describing to the agents in meticulous detail how it evaporates any ghost it hits near-instantly and describing it quite ruthlessly in the blueprints, and soon the GIW have raplaced all their main weapons with the new gun.

Except it doesn't actually kill ghosts. It's the Fenton Bazooka. You know, the one that creates a portable portal to suck the ghost back into the ghost zone? What they actually did was retool it slightly to make it look more grusome than it actually is. They even added a beacon in Phantom's Keep, which all Fenton Bazookas will target when they open a portal, so the ghosts are always delivered to the keep.

From there, Phantom stationed an emergency medical team at the keep to treat the many injured and ragged ghosts that the GIW 'destroyed,' and to explain what just happened.

What they didn't anticipate was that now that the GIW have a mass-produced weapon that they believed would effectively eradicate ghosts, they would go on the offensive. They have a number of cities they've been monitoring but didn't want to get involved in without better tools.

One of those cities is Gotham.

And the Bats are ectocontaminated enough to register as ghosts.

Batman witnessed several of his children get evaporated by green energy weapons within mere moments of each other. He's absolutely gutted. Devastated. They didn’t even stand a chance.

He'll get his revenge, and it's frighteningly easy to track the weapon to private subcontractors. The Doctors Fenton, in Illinois. Their research calls for the genocide of all ghost kind, and apparently, that war started by killing his own children.

His children will not die in vain.

He gets to Amity Park and finds the Engineer's Nightmare of a building that is Fentonworks, but that night, before he can hack through the security and break in, one of the windows opens.

It's one of his kids that he had watched evaporate before his very eyes. They give him a silent signal of one of their identifying security codes and gesture for him to come inside.

Is it a trap? A prank in poor taste? Utterly genuine?

He goes through the window.

All of his dead kids are there, wearing borrowed pajamas and only their dominoes to conceal their identities. Daniel Fenton (son of the Fentons, this is his bedroom, has voiced a few arguments against his parent's views, but still an unknown) is among the crowd of teens and young adults, twirling on an office chair and obnoxiously sipping a capri sun.

"First thing you need to know, Bats," Daniel says after finishing his drink, "is that my parents are absolutely NOT genocidal ectophobic scumbags, and that is the reason why your kids are still alive."

[floweroflaurelin]

“Luck be with ye…. Hand.”

—

Thinking about that post Martyn made about what if he and Ren made it to the end in 3rd Life together AUGH

Just. The two of them alone in the silence, everyone else fallen around them… Accepting that this is what has to be done… Rotating it so much

[hajihiko]

[cupcakeslushie]

My contribution to the baby saga over in the Separated Council Discord!

Everyone but Sprout is getting baby-fied, Red and One will as well, but before that, they’ll cause as much mischief as possible.

Labels for everyone below! 👇

EW is mine!

Annnd *deep breath*

Separated Leo AU @dianagj-art

Two Arms Left @intotheelliwoods

Red Rover AU @red-rover-au

Same as it never will be @heckitall

Gemini AU @tangledinink

The Little Prince @beannary

Tiz Sep AU @tizeline

Never Better @less-depresso-more-espresso

True Colors @v-albion

Even More Disaster @teaableu and @3lectricinsomnia

Tentative Devotee @s0fti3w1tch

The Night @y0unginhumans

Villain PB&J @onionninjasstuff

SnapDragon @bluesgras

Little Brother @sharkfinn

Mutant Manhunt @brainrottmnt

Life Mission @daedelweiss

Phew.