#<- this is their meet cute

[espighty]

In celebration of the new update and new bishop content, allow me to share the first part of the fic I'm working on.

It takes place a bit after "Surely He Isn't That One-Note", and this section starts out immediately after Lamb wins the purgatory battle against Kallamar. I have yet to actually decide if Lamb was able to reason with him like they planned to, but this section will play out the same way no matter what route I decide on.

________________________________________

The Lamb immediately starts scanning the shivering, tangled mass of limbs in front of them, making mental notes of the wounds that need to be taken care of. They tentatively approach, so distracted by their checklist and the conversation they’ve planned out that they miss when Kallamar’s hand dips down into the ink pooled underneath him.

With a sharp, calculated flick of his wrist, The Lamb is blinded. They bleat in surprise, grabbing part of their cloak to wipe it away. Kallamar scrambles to stand, and his hand finds something sharp on the way up. It’s so marred by time and gore that he isn't sure what it used to be. Glass, crystal, weapon? It doesn't matter. He holds onto it so tightly that it hurts him, cutting into his palm and the long webbing between his fingers. The Lamb is saying something in between their pained hisses, but Kallamar can’t be bothered to listen to anything over the panicked thoughts jumbling through his head and the rush of adrenaline in his veins. With the speed and strength of a cornered animal, he jabs the fragment into The Lamb’s thigh. They double over. Kallamar tries to pull it back out, not to stab again but to have some means of defense, but the edge slides through the gash in his hand again and he deems it a lost cause. The Lamb blindly scrabbles to grip his wrist, but Kallamar easily twists himself out of their grasp. He shoves them aside and bolts out of the temple.

Outside is dark. The columns lining the path are crumbling, the crystal lanterns that adorned them long shattered. The ground is littered with shallow, long-stagnant puddles of dirty water and ichor and who knows what else. The air is dry, unnaturally so, a testament to how dilapidated and hellish his haven had become. One minute in and Kallamar can’t run anymore. He desperately wants to, he’d run until his heart burst if it meant getting out of this, but he just can’t. He had forgotten just how pathetic his mortal body was, he had forgotten just how much he hated it. Exhausted and desperate, he curls up behind a pillar, hoping against hope that The Lamb will just leave. They've stepped out of the temple by now, and again they’re yelling out something to him, but the exacts are drowned out by the rasping of his own gills. Kallamar realizes now just how dry his temple was, how dehydrated he is. Each breath feels like sandpaper scraping through his insides, he’s barely getting enough air to think straight, and if he doesn’t manage to quiet his breathing right now The Lamb will find him. Instinct and desperation take full control as his hand darts toward the nearest puddle, scooping up liquid that feels far too heavy and drips down his fingers far too slow. The moment the liquid makes contact with his gills, Kallamar starts spasming, his body expelling the mud and ichor cocktail with harsh, grating exhales. He’s made it so much worse, he’s so much louder now and he knows The Lamb can hear him. He can see the bright crimson light of the red crown creeping across the ground, stretching closer and closer. He’s going to die, he’s going to die and he isn’t even sure if it’ll be The Lamb that kills him or the sludge still dripping from his gills. His vision swims. The red light of death, his past and future murderer, looms from above.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With how easily the battle with Kallamar went, Lamb had thought the rest of the process would be just as simple. The stab wound in their leg and the ink (they have to keep reminding themselves that ink is not squid pee, but it still feels so gross) still burning their eyes argued otherwise. Kallamar wasn’t doing much better though. Through the red light of the crown, the squid was an absolute mess. He was curled back against the pillar, shuddering through forceful, painful sounding exhales through his gills. Tears streaked down his face as he stared wide-eyed up at Lamb. Ichor was starting to bead at his torn ears, and the slice in his palm smeared black wherever he touched.

Since everything had gone so awry, Lamb had pretty much forgotten their entire speech, and thus didn’t quite know what to say at this point. Kallamar found his voice a bit faster.

(((That's all I want to share for now)))

[c-tepx]

NEVERMIND THE MEETING HAPPENED

found the screenshot from the adventure bible and I'm obsessed

i knew girls are gonna dress up!! look at flertom! she's ready to charm that dwarf bachelor

mayjack seem to be wearing her "prettier" shirt and just regular boots. just like her dad. cute

puckpatti even brought some flowers!

[lazylittledragon]

this got out of hand really fast

context:

[deancasforcutie]

fuck dude he sure is <3

[simonbrain]

simon being delusional and pretending he's in a relationship with you because he has no game and can't work up the courage to approach you. maybe you're someone average and unimportant—like the waitress at the pub he frequents—but you've caught his attention, and he can't stop thinking about you.

he hasn't really interacted with you because he's always sitting at the bar with the rest of the boys, but you're sweet and polite, and he can't help the flurry of daydreams that rush through his mind.

he thinks about taking you home after your shift and nodding as if he's listening to you ramble about your night, but really he's concentrating on the soft rumble of your voice. he thinks about cleaning your tired face in the bathroom while you're perched up on the sink, a hand cupping your face to keep you upright while he quietly admires your pretty features. he thinks about dragging you into bed and holding you close to him, offering all the warmth you deserve as you curl up against his side.

he's got his head so far up his arse that when you actually approach this intimidating man who's been boring holes into your head to ask if he's alright, he kind of just short-circuits because you're actually speaking to him? there's no way his perfect girl is right here in front of him. he must be dreaming.

he doesn't realise he's just staring until you clear your throat and nervously say if he should ever need your help, to just ask. and then you're speed-walking off, praying he doesn't take you up on your offer. meanwhile, he's mentally playing russian roulette with a fully loaded gun because how did he fuck that up?

[hinamie]

long way home

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Dead Tired Coffeeshop Accident

For one reason or another, Danny is now living in Gotham and working in a coffeeshop. For one reason or another, Tim frequents the same coffeeshop.

Now, both of them are honest to god messes who treat sleep like a grave enemy. Meaning they both survive on coffee, spite, energy drinks, and their respective hyperfocuses.

They don't even talk, really, they just see each other from time to time: Tim knows the barista who looks like he's been dead for weeks is named Danny, and Danny knows how to make Tim's Death Wish with his eyes closed, but other than that, they are just strangers who largely don't care about each other.

That is, until one time after his patrol, Tim comes to the said coffeeshop in his Red Robin gear. He doesn't even think about it, he simply needs coffee. He comes to the counter. He orders. His voice is tired and emotionless. He just wants his coffee and maybe stare at a wall for a few hours until his brain reboots. Danny takes his order without even looking at him. He has been sitting and staring at a wall for a few hours, night shifts are literally killing him.

They are both so done.

Red Robin waits for his coffee. Danny makes it almost automatically, his mind elsewhere. The coffeeshop is empty, save for them two. It's four in the morning. Nothing feels real.

Danny sets the cup on the counter.

"One Death Wish for Tim," he says out of a habit, not fully registering they are alone, and he doesn't need to do that.

Tim takes the coffee without thinking, nods a silent 'thank you'. Brings the cup up to his mouth-

And notices a glove on his own hand.

He is in Red Robin get up.

He freezes and looks at the barista, who is cleaning the coffeemachine. Danny, noticing him looking, also looks back at him. Did he make the wrong order? He knows Tim's soul, he's seen it a lot, he couldn't have mistaken him for anyone else, but maybe he forgot to add syrup?..

There's a domino mask on Tim's face. A vigilante domino mask.

They stare at each other. No one moves. No one blinks. The sun is rising somewhere over the city.

Tim takes a sip of his coffee. Danny goes back to cleaning the coffeemachine.

They never speak of this again, but Tim becomes a regular here in both of his personas.

[demigods-posts]

headcanon that percy and annabeth have a relationship contract they made after they got together once the war came to pass. they outlined it on paper in percy's bedroom. typed up a final draft using sally's laptop. and printed out and laminated it at the local library on their two month anniversary. and they abide by it like it's the law.

[sentient-stove]

“Do you remember when I sold my soul a few years back?”

The tapping at the keyboard did not still. “Yes of cour— Tim, you sold your soul?”

“Oh my god, you forgot.” He dramatically threw a hand against his chest, collapsing sideways out of the chair to land on the cave floor. “I’m wounded. In my cold, soulless heart, shot straight through it. You forgot I sold my soul. Dick, how could you?”

“It’s been a hectic few years-“

“It’s my soul Richard Greyson. Isn’t that important? I sold my soul to the Ghost King and now it’s apparently changed hands.”

“The Ghost King sold your already sold soul?!?”

Tim sat back up, using the BatDesk to pull himself to his feet. “Nah, apparently the og king got bested in combat and the new king now owns it. He sent me a letter. So we could meet. And potentially discuss me repossessing my soul. Anyway, are you free Thursday cause that’s when he’s picking me up and he said I could bring a friend. Cissie already said no, so you’re the next on my list.”

Dick had long since abandoned whatever report he’d been working on and was staring at Tim with what could only be described as ‘major concern.’ “Can we please backtrack to the fact you sold your soul to a Cthulhu-like entity?”

“No.”

…

Meme under the cut

[strawberryyyenthusiast]

Diabetic Steve who is at a Dairy Queen with Robin after he went with her to an all girl punk band that’s she’s been wanting to see for years. Steve had been feeling weird all day but he didn’t want to bail at the last second because he knew that Robin would just cancel everything to take care of Steve.

(Steve would do the same for her).

Steve plops down into a booth while Robin goes to order them food. He pulls out his pod and winces when he sees his glucose level.

64 and going down. Not a good sign.

Just to be sure he pricks his finger and holy shit, he’s actually at 43. It’s at that moment, when Steve is wiping his finger with the alcohol wipe, that his phone decides to loudly beep to alert him that, “hey you’re crashing pretty hard and fast— take care of it soon!!”

Steve is rifling through his bag while Robin is already trying to rush their orders.

“Shit,” Steve mumbles to himself. “I’m out of fucking juice.”

His hands start to shake and Robin begins to freak out. Steve is always so in control of his diabetes, she’s never seen him like this. So, Robin does what any other person would do and grabs the largest blizzard she has ever seen on the online orders tray and runs over to her best friend.

“Here! Have this, I’m going to try to get you some apple juice!”

Steve just nods his head and slowly spoons some of it into his mouth.

“This tastes like shit, by the way.”

“You’re welcome, dingus. Now shut up and eat.”

The worker behind the counter comes over and starts talking to Robin after she sits in front of Steve. Steve can’t really make anything out right now since he’s trying to focus on making his hands work. But, he thinks he hears the mention of calling 911 and an ambulance.

Time passes a little slower after that. Steve somehow manages to get down enough of the ice cream that he is slowly rising again.

57 after he pricked. Thank god.

It’s at that moment that Eddie Munson, lead singer of Corroded Coffin, walks in. He went to his best friend’s, Chrissy’s, show and needed a pick-me-up after helping her lug all of her equipment back into their vehicle.

He goes over to the online orders tray and it’s empty. He doesn’t really mind waiting. He walks over to the counter and sees that the worker is extremely frantic as she sorts some shit out.

“Hey,” he starts, his fingers tapping the fake granite counter top. “Just checking, I’m here to pick up an order for Edmundo and it’s not on the tray. Do you know when it will be ready?” He flashes an awkward smile and the worker just points to the table behind him.

“We’re working on it. Your nightmare of a blizzard was needed for something else. Give us five minutes.”

Eddie nods and slowly turned around, where he sees the most gorgeous man eating his blizzard. Reluctantly, he might add. The man has on a light pink t-shirt and brown corduroy pants, thick lensed glasses sliding down his nose. The woman across from him was clad in funky colors and had a dirty blonde bob. She was talking extremely fast and gesturing with her hands a bunch.

Chrissy would love her.

He walked over and tapped the man on the shoulder.

“How’s my blizzard?”

He slowly looks up and Eddie is met with honey brown eyes and beauty marks for days. A straight nose and an angular jawline. Jesus Christ.

The woman looks like she’s about to say something, but the guy beats her to it. “It tastes like if a unicorn threw up in my mouth, but it prevented me from passing out. So… thanks.” He smiles. “I’m Steve.”

Eddie needs to become Steve’s husband immediately.

“And I’m in love.” He pauses and then sees the look of glee on Steve’s face. “EDDIE. My name is Eddie.”

“It’s nice to meet you Eddie. Are you free tomorrow?”

[chloesimaginationthings]

Abby meets Cassie’s favorite FNAF animatronic Roxy!

[thoughts-redacted]

I just thought of something cute.

Y'know how Ghost pulls out some jokes here and there and is generally good at quips?

Imagine that the boys are out, just having a little get together at a bar after a successful mission and Simon pulls out one of his shit jokes.

You happen to sit nearby, your friend in the bathroom so you have nothing to do other than drink and listen to the environment around you.

"What's the difference between an oysterman and a prostitute with diarrhea?"

...

What?

Slowly, you set down your drink and listen carefully as a deeper, gruff voice behind you starts off a bit.

The Scotsman of the group groans audibly, "Steaming Jesus... What?"

"One shucks between fits, and the other fucks between shits."

Immediately, your forehead hits the counter as a fit of giggles bubble up and spill from your lips, uncontrollable, especially with how the joke, so fucking stupid, keeps replaying in your head. Your laughter is highly contagious as it seems, as the group of men behind you begin chuckling along.

"LT, ah think they liked yer joke."

Through little giggles, calming down from that little fit of yours, you throw a peek over your shoulder, catching onto the darkest yet equally shining pair of eyes, crinkling with a small grin as the large blond regards you with amusement and intrigue.

Reblogs are highly appreciated :)

[californiatowhee]

what do you mean turnabout goodbyes isn't a christmas romcom

(insp: the netflix christmas masterpiece known as hot frosty)

[weedle-testaburger]

you'd better all acknowledge the most important things from that finale, by which i of course mean this:

[dcxdpdabbles]

Danny running into a room: Hide me!

Tim: Under my desk! Quick!

Danny: *Jumping the desk* Thank you!

Security Guard running in: Mr. Drake-Wayne! Have you seen a suspicious man pass through here?

Tim: Hmm? No. Is something happening?

Security Guard: A while ago, someone reported that a homeless man was found sleeping in one of our less used bathrooms. It looks like he had been staying there for a while. He had an entire camp set up. He ran as soon as the security was called but we think he's still in the building.

Tim: Wow that's crazy. Hope you catch him

Security Guard: Thank you. I suggest you move down to level 1 until we're sure he's not a danger.

Tim: Of course. I'll be right there.

Tim: *Moving his wheel chair back to stare into Danny's eyes* He's gone.

Danny: Thank you so much for hiding me.

Tim: You're welcome. Take off your clothes

Danny: Excuse me?

Tim: Switch into one of my spare suits. We're going to pretend you're my guest and walked you right pass security.

Danny: Who keeps seven spair complete suits at work?

Tim: *Holding up two ties* I do. Now, this Aqua blue makes your eyes pop, but this classic black with silver stripes gives you a mysterious aura. What are we feeling?

Danny: ....the blue one is nice.

[nonomives]

I did something