#AND that he's not dead.... that's so good i'm so so so happy he's okay

[fanfic-writer-and-rambler]

Lady Shiva: Cassandra Cain!

Cass (in batsuit) eyes widen as she turns around: Mother?!

Jason (Red Hood): She's back?

Lady Shiva: In the flesh and you thought you could escape me, Cassandra? Naughty, naughty.

Cass (nervous): Mo- Lady Shiva, stay back!

Lady Shiva: That's no way to talk to your mother. Why are you talking?

Cass: I won't hold myself back. Leave.

Lady Shiva walks to Cass with a menacing glare.

Lady Shiva: You continue to disappoint me. Giving up the job of a skilled assassin to parade around in this ridiculous costume.

Jason: Cass, you need me to handle this?

Cass: Not yet.

Lady Shiva (chuckling menacingly): Cass? That's the foolish name you go by? I heard you also go by Orphan. Blight of my womb, you're not an orphan, but mommy will tak-

Lady Shiva stops walks when Jason raises his gun to her, making sure he got a headshot. Shiva smirks, placing her hands on her hips.

Lady Shiva: The dead Robin is protecting you?

Jason: Shiba lady, I'm not afraid of you and I will not hesitate to blow your brains out with one bullet.

Lady Shiva brows furrowed in anger.

Jason: I don't give a fuck. The child unfortunately related to you is giving you a chance to go. Take it.

Lady Shiva: Lady. Shiva!

Lady Shiva: My daughter won't let a pathetic walking corpse shoot me.

Cass: You're so right.

Cass reaches into Jason's side pocket and pulls out another gun.

Cass: We're both going to shoot you. Walk away or you'll be found on the ground with multiple gunshot wounds.

Lady Shiva (attempting to manipulate her daughter): You were a terrible shooter and do you think you'd get a good shot with that ridiculous leather-

Cass moves the gun to her 'mother's' arm and shoots her effortlessly.

Lady Shiva screams, clutching her arm.

Lady Shiva: You fucking brat!

Jason chuckles not caring when Shiva glares at him.

Cass: If you don't leave we will both take shots and neither of us will miss. Last chance, surrogate. Turn back or we will make your death look like an accident.

Jason smiles as Cass then turns back to Shiva, his gun steady.

Lady Shiva (returning to her cold tone to hide the pain in her arm): You've proven what a pathetic waste of DNA you are. I shall take my leave by my choice. Make no mistake, when I return you'll know what it's like to be in a coffin.

Jason: Would you fuck off already? God you talk like a cartoon villain.

Cass giggles.

Cass: All she needs is a mustache to twirl.

Jason: From my distance she's growing one in.

Cass laughs.

Lady Shiva rolls her eyes, but instead of continuing her failed manipulation, she turned around, angrily walking off.

Cass spins Jason's gun with ease and hands it back to him.

Cass (singing): Oh- Oh-Oh-Oh-Oh- I shot my shitty mom in my cool batsuit!

Jason puts both his guns in his pockets. He smiles at his happy sister.

Jason: Felt good, right?

Cass: Yes indeedy. Thanks for having my back.

Jason: No problem. You gonna be okay though?

Cass: Totally, she had me for a second, but when you stepped in I felt more confidence. It sucks having bad parents, but they're not my family anymore. You guys are.

Jason: I'm your favorite?

Cass nods.

Jason: Good shot, by the way.

Jason pats Cass on the head.

Cass (clapping eagerly): Thank you. She had the nerve to call me a bad shooter. You're silly though, Shiba Lady?

Jason: Yeah I came up with that on the fly. Clever right?

Cass (laughing): Incredibly clever. One question though, would you have shot her in the head?

Jason: If you gave me the okay I would... Even if you hadn't and she attacked you, I would've shot her.

Cass: Thanks Jason.

Jason: No thanks needed, I know I'm awesome.

Cass: We should head out of here, Shiba probably wasn't alone.

Jason: You're right. I want to say real quick, welcome to the awful mother's club.

Cass holds up her fist. Jason fist bumps her back. The two run off feeling accomplished.

[viktoriaashleyyx]

This is a pro Tamlin, anti Rhysand self insert revenge fic. All characters belong to SJM, but she wasn't treating them right. Tam x reader, Tam x Rhysands Sister (OC), First person narrative. This will also reference Elucien and Neris in the future but we aren't there yet.

We are headed to the House of Wind to confront RhySAnd and we see more of Sky's past as she taunts RhySAnd with it.

Tw: Discusses RhySAnds SA of Feyre UTM, magical violence.

((Thank you for being patient with me. Moving sucks, but things are starting to settle down now))

Ch 1

Ch 6 >> Ch 8

Chapter 7:

Today is the day we were heading to the House of Wind. I had sent a letter to Rhysand offering to meet him, that Tamlin will join me, it took him a few days to respond. Lucien was back on his feet feeling good as new.

After putting on one of my dresses, I sat at the vanity as Tamlin braided my hair, he was getting better at it. This has become almost a morning ritual for us. Brushing and braiding each other's hair as we discuss what's on our mind. Today we were both silent, we didn't want to do this, but at least we will be together.

When we were both ready we joined Lucien in the dining hall for breakfast.

“I almost want to go with you, just to see the look on Rhysands face as I walk in there unscathed.” Lucien admitted.

“I'd rather see the hate in Feyres eyes when I tell her you're dead by Rhysands hand,” I teased.

Lucien chuckled, Tamlin wasn't amused.

“You could go in disguise.” I joked, “have Tamlin turn you into a Raven and perch on my shoulder if you're so nosey.”

“Don't tempt me with a good time.” Lucien was going with it.

“No,” Tamlin huffed.

“Please, imagine how badass I would look walking in with a raven on my shoulder.” I whined. Still teasing, trying to lighten my nerves.

“I'm okay with that.” Lucien shrugged. Tamlin just groaned.

♡♡♡♡♡

“No, not a red raven, they're gonna recognize him. A normal raven.” I ordered.

“I can't believe we are actually doing this.” Tamlin sighed.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

I portaled us to the door of the House of Wind, held Tamlins hand, and knocked. He was nervous, he had never been to Velaris before, but, thanks to my brother, the secrecy of this city has faltered.

“There's my baby sister! Can I finally get that hug?” Rhysand tried to embrace me and I put my hand on his chest pushing him back.

“I don't like to be touched.” I said dryly. “See how easy it was for me to show up on the OUTSIDE of your house and KNOCK?” I judged. “Show us to where we are having this meeting.”

“So bossy,” Rhysand teased, “you're not even the slightest bit happy to see me?”

He led us to a large sitting room, Tamlin and I sat on one couch, well, I perched on the edge, (how do the other illyrians sit here comfortably?) Rhysand and Feyre on the other, with who I assume to be, Feyre's sister and either Cassian or Azriel, I couldn't remember, the one with long hair, sitting in the corner, obviously eavesdropping. “Why would I be happy to see you? The last time you threw Lucien's dead body at me.”

Rhysands face dropped, he expected me to be more subtle. Feyre's face lined with shock as tears welled up in her eyes. “What? What is she talking about, Rhysand? You told me he left to stay at the Spring court.”

“Well? It was obviously a cry for attention, now you have it. What do you want from me?” I said coldly, cutting her off.

“I just want you home, where you belong.” Rhysand said, annoyed that he will surely have to weave another lie to Feyre later.

“I am where I belong. Is that all? You just want another prisoner to add to your collection?” I noticed Feyres sisters' ears perk up. She had no walls built up to protect her mind, odd for someone living in a house with daemati.

“You wouldn't be a prisoner.” Rhysand snapped.

I laughed, “no one generally chooses to stay in your company, brother.” Feyre still had pain on her face, lost in thought and trying to hold it together just long enough to finish the meeting. Hmm, it seems she might still have a heart after all.

“I would just like to show you around Velaris, catch up and show you what I've accomplished in the past years.” Rhysand admitted, trying, and failing, to stay collected.

“Velaris has always been perfect and protected, as done by our grandfather. If you want to impress me, show me how you have improved the lives of the people in the Hewn city and illyria.” Velaris citizens were safe, well cared for and ruled justly. Illyria has been used as my family's own personal warrior farm, and the Hewn City citizens trapped since long before I was born. “Tell me, do the majority of Illyrian citizens still live in tents?”

“We are doing our best in illyria. It's not as easy as you think.” Rhysand replied with a slight hint of attitude. He wasn't used to someone calling him out on his fallacies.

“Huh, I would believe that 500 years is plenty of time for the most powerful high lord.” I said mockingly. He loved to spit that phrase unto himself, a gross display of arrogance was all it ever was. “Tell me, how many mansions do you have now?”

“Six,” Feyre whispered, deep in thought, she seemed like she also had not heard anyone question him.

“Gross.” I replied bluntly. “Mother isn't going to be happy to hear about this.”

“Mom is alive?” Rhysand gasped, a light flickered in his eyes, Feyres jaw dropped slightly, the other Illyrian stared at me. “Where is she?”

“She lives amongst the warrior women of Brokilon, a forest warded well against anyone who wishes it or its inhabitants harm. I don't mind telling you this because there is absolutely no way for you to get there without my help. It's located in an entirely different realm. I needed divine intervention to return, something you would never be able to hack.” Every eye was on me, as they tried to make sense of it. “Our sister and I visit her regularly, she doesn't ask about you much.”

“Sister?” Rhysand seemed to finally be speechless. That last line stung.

“Yes, Yennefer. Half human, half Illyrian. She is an insanely powerful mage. She looks like us, violet eyes, black hair, but no wings. She had a slightly easier time in that realm considering they kill ‘Pointy ears’ on sight there. Think of what I would look like masquerading as a human, and that's her.”

“A mage?” Feyre questioned.

“Yes, in that realm magic is pulled from many sources, not just the earth, and they use that magic to.. mutate(?) humans into immortals. Thats where I learned the portals.”

“How did you and mother get there? How did you survive?” Rhysand pressed. I am not going to lie, I am enjoying the attention.

“When Tamlins father raised his blade to strike me,” I gripped Tamlins hand, I didn't blame him for breaking when the information of my location was tortured out of him. “I panicked. I held mother tight and reached out for any escape, and when I opened my eyes, we were in a forest I had never seen before. An Ash forest. I learned later that the power I grasped was chaos, not the power of the land.”

“Don't forget it was Tamlin who had you killed. He locked Feyre up and he hurt her.” Rhysand spit.

“He didn't ‘have me killed’ if I am currently sitting here, Rhysand. Mother and I are both alive, that is more than I can say for my predecessor, the last Lady of Spring” I retorted with a too sweet smile. While we hadn't exactly made it official, how could we with an empty court, this is the first time I have claimed that title. I wanted to turn to see Tamlins reaction, but I didn't want to lead on how significant this was to the others in the room. Tamlin showed his approval by softly moving his thumb over the back of my hand.

“And fair, yes, both Tamlin and Feyre made mistakes, that is not my place to comment on. Keep in mind, though, WE are the ones that wanted to stay away. You drug us here. Tamlin apologized, she didn't accept, and since then he has mostly kept to his own court. You and your brutes are the ones that keep going to him. Tell me, did you ever apologize to Feyre for what you did to her under the mountain?” I could see out of the corner of my eye, Feyres sister was shocked. She obviously didn't know what all the other High lords and courts witnessed. Rhysand and Feyres eyes both narrowed at me.

“If there is anything that is not your place to bring up-” Rhysand started.

“You did it so publicly,” I cut him off, “all the other High lords in Prythia became unwilling participants to your weird exhibitionst kink. You even admitted you did it to hurt Tamlin.”

“What did he do?” Feyres sister demanded through clenched teeth.

“Nothing Nesta. Mind your business.” Feyre snapped.

“He drugged her, and made her the nightly entertainment for all the courts under the mountain as she was stripped naked and forced to dance for him. If you knew she was your mate, why would you treat her that way?” Directed to Rhysand, then back to Feyre, “why cant your older sister know? Everyone else in Prythia does.”

“He did it to protect me.”

“Is that what he told you? You deserve better, babygirl.”

Rhysand was losing control. Both Lucien and Tamlin had the metal shields up that protected them from Rhysands daemati powers. So what does any self centered brat do when they are losing control? They change the subject, hoping to garner favor.

“I still remember you, bowed down kissing my boot and begging,” Rhysand taunted Tamlin.

I heard him take a deep breath, Lucien's talons gripped into my shoulder and I tried not to flinch at the pain. I retorted quickly, “what for? Oh that's right, it was to convince you to not sell Feyre out to Amarantha. Or should I say ‘Claire.’ Right? I wonder if your love for your mate is strong enough to entice you to do the same, dear brother.” Feyre began to choke.

Nesta was angry, confused, trying to process everything she just heard. Shock lined the Illyrian males face too, he hadn't heard either.

“Let her go.” Rhysand snarled at me, unmoving. His eyes void of any emotion.

“Ah, ah,” I sang, pointing a finger down to my boot. “You know what I want.”

“I will never bow to you,”

“Quickly, she's fading fast.”

Nesta cried out and bowed herself. The illyrian brute holding her back, Rhysand remained still, not breaking eye contact. I sent a message to her mind, Feyre will not die, I promise.

“Enough, Sky.” Tamlin growled at me.

I released my grip on her lungs and she took a heavy breath, fear, anger and confusion in her eyes.

“Let it be known, Feyre, that your ‘mate’ wouldn't even move a muscle to save you, but Tamlin questioned even me.” I said to her softly. “It seems you have a lot to think about.”

“Let's go,” Tamlin hissed at me. Uh oh, I am in trouble. I opened a portal home and we left.

♡♡♡♡♡

“We don't hurt people, Sky, that's not who we are.” Tamlin was angry. He shifted Lucien back to normal.

“I was in full control the entire time, I was not going to let her die,” my response was cold.

“I thought it was great,” Lucien muttered, eyes wide, but not meeting ours.

“If you are jealous of her–” Tamlin accused.

“JEALOUS? of her?” I cut him off and raised my voice, “I am angry with her. I do not give half a fuck who you had in your bed while I was gone, Tamlin, what I do care about is her destruction of my court. You, and her, were so incredibly toxic together it ended with entire cities burnt to ash, my people lost their homes because you two couldn't talk to each other. That is where my frustration starts and ends. My people, families, children, entire lives uprooted and destroyed. People shouldn't have to suffer because their leader is going through a break up. Childish nonsense caused me to return home to an abandoned court..” my voice softened, ever so slightly, “you are doing the work to rebuild and correct your mistakes while she is gallivanting around the night court like the sun shines out of her ass. She shows no remorse, no empathy for the people she destroyed. I cannot express how little I care that you enjoyed the taste of her.”

His stance softened and he whispered “I'm sorry, Sky.”

“Don't ever question where my loyalties lie, again.” I spit. Lucien reached a hand out to me, and I turned and stormed off to compose myself.

♡♡♡♡♡

I found myself outside my old gallery, a room I have dreamed of returning to for 300 years, I opened the door and creeped in.

It was obvious that others have used this, Tamlin admitted as much, admitted that Feyre would paint in here. I carefully studied the art laid out around the room, the paints and brushes strung out and left to dry. I felt a twinge in my chest, was it jealousy? No, I didn't seriously expect an entire room left empty for so long, did I?

And then I found hers. Much simpler art than the realism I painted in, lots of abstract splotches and lines, and crudely drawn pictures. It was beautiful in its own right, obviously done while she was a human. A human. Turned Fae, after the atrocities of Amarantha. Still a child by Fae years, forced into Prythia, forced into marriage after marriage. I know as well as anyone what a prison a crown truly is, her youth, her freedom, stolen from her by tradition, power, and lust. I had been treating her as the High Lady she chose to be, I wonder if that decision was made with her properly informed consent, or just pushed on her by my brother.

♡♡♡♡

An hour or so later, I headed out to find Tamlin. My head was clear now and we needed to talk.

He was in his study, hunched over his desk, head in his hands. It was dark now, the moonlight was the only thing illuminating the room. “Tam?” I creaked the door open and entered slowly. He didn't respond.

I walked over to him and laid a gentle hand on his back. “My love,” I whispered, “can we talk? I'm sorry I blew up today.” He slid his chair out and pulled me onto his lap, holding me in his arms as I nestled my head in his neck.

“I love you, I am sorry I upset you.” Tamlin whispered. “I just didn't expect that today. I shouldn't have accused you. I don't, honestly, think that low of you, I was just angry.”

“I shouldn't have hurt her like that. I used her to shut my brother up the same way he used Lucien. Tensions were high today. I wanted to just stay away but my brother is so spoiled he can't take no for an answer. I'm sorry, I understand that seeing her in pain is not easy for you.” He just held me tighter, and I kissed his neck.

“I don't like leaving Spring.” Tamlin admitted quietly, “It just makes me feel sick every second I am outside my borders.”

“You're gonna have to pick one,” my voice soft and sweet, “either you swallow your worry, or your unease. I need to be able to leave if we are going to rebuild.” I lifted my hand to caress his cheek, slowly brushing his golden hair behind his ear. He laid a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“So, Lady of Spring, huh?” He smiled sweetly down at me, I sat up and turned slightly to look him in the face. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” I breathed leaning in closer, our lips almost touching, “unless you object?”

He pulled me in closer and kissed me deeply, “I would never object to that.”

Tag list: @ladythornofrivia @rcarbo1 @rin-u-pos @knoxic @lilah-asteria @littlefantasylover

[guplia]

Hello anon! First of all, thanks for the ask! (asks? idk I received three anon asks at almost the same time, it would be weird if they didn't all come from the same person lol)

fix recommendations? read mine /hj Sure! Just note that while I've enjoyed a lot of wips, I'm only gonna recommend completed fics rn.

Okay! Here's all I can remember rn:

"Clouds" by youngmoInactive (fanfiction.net):

Original summary:

"Even though he's a hero, he's still a human. CONTAINS CHARACTER DEATH. A nice look into Kai's perspective as he watches a close friend slowly lose a fight for his life."

Okay all I've gotta say on this one is that IT MADE ME CRY. OVER AND OVER AGAIN. Obviously I can't speak for everyone who read this fic but I think this will hurt Lloyd lovers. I have re-read it so many times to the point where I have half the fic memorised word-by-word. This is a must-read.

(if you're on the phone it's better to add "m." To the start of the URL)

"a day in the life of a fatherless child" by holographicknife (Archive of Our Own):

Original summary:

"lloyd has a panic attack *confetti* title suggested by my friend lol loosely based on a crack rp between friend and i   Warning for: mentions of suicidal thoughts and medication, explicit descriptions of a panic attack, including tight chest, difficulty breathing, nausea, and headaches. Proceed with caution."

This is a Kai And Lloyd fic, and I love Kai And Lloyd fics! Specifically ones where they address Lloyd's trauma from Morro and where Kai comforts him. So if anyone's into this sort of stuff I'd recommend it!

"A Courageous Escape" by Lilac_Lily234 (Archive of Our Own):

Original summary:

"In the midst of possession Morro hatred flows freely as he seeks to make Lloyd suffer for taking what he believes as his rightful title, but his cruelty know no bounds; Lloyd however refuses to give up but knows that time is running out, and in his desperation will find either salvation, or death.  - I don't own Ninjago, this is an au"

Ahem... once again, Lloyd goes through pain. A season 5 canon-divergent AU, from which my favourite part was... you guessed it! Lloyd having a panic attack and being comforted! But it's still a cool story besides too, season 5 being one of the best seasons imo.

While this fic is finished, the AU is not but I think this one has a good ending on its own.

"Out for revenge" by lloyd_slander (Archive of Our Own):

Original summary:

"Harumi’s plan to resurrect Lord Garmadon failed, during her time in Kryptarium prison she heard about Morro, the master of wind, and guy who had managed to make Lloyd’s life a living hell. Wanting revenge, she doesn’t stop from anything, not even from getting Morro back from the dead. Or The duo we always wanted, but never got. Lloyd is in for a hard time. Head the tags, guys!"

Okay. This one is rated Mature for drug usage and blood (there was nothing sexual though)

So it's a Morro traumatising Lloyd fic again, but this time he's with Harumi! So it's double trouble for Lloyd! (things go VERY BAD for him >:3)

Honestly I can't say much except read the fic, the summary's right there lol.

"Revealed" by Nation_Ustria (Archive of Our Own):

Original summary:

"Lloyd Garmadon is used to being hated. That's just how his life works—if someone knows that he's the son of the warlord who attacks Ninjago City on a weekly basis, they hate his guts. That's why he's made sure that his team—the only people he's ever been happy with—don't know who he is behind the mask, with the small price attached that he doesn't know their identities, either. It's not like they know each other's, anyways, so it's not a big deal. But then they find out. The fact that Lloyd's elemental power makes him an empath doesn't help, either. Basically the premise of the movie pre-reveal with show elements and personalities, and Lloyd's Green Power is him being able to sense and be influenced by the emotions of those around him."

Okay so here's a fic without Morro! (that's cause it's in the movie-verse) Another type of fanfic I like reading is where Lloyd in tlnm keeps his identity secret from the other ninja and it ends up getting revealed (like this one.).

I've seen this fic being recommended more than once and it's one of the fics with the most kudos in the entire fandom on AO3! So 2000 others agree with me on how awesome this fic is!!!

"What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger" by @crystaleclipse10 (CrystalEclipse on Archive of Our Own)

Original summary:

"Lloyd batted Red's hand away. “’m fine.” His head pounded, but at least it was quiet and dark. His hair tickled his nose. “What happened?” “We…didn’t get out in time,” Red whispered. “The missile exploded. We got everyone else out, though.” Lloyd relaxed and slumped forward as pure relief washed over him. They’d done it. They’d beaten Garmadon’s game. They’d freed the civilians and survived. Didn’t feel great, though. ~OR~ Lloyd and Kai get trapped under a building when it collapses, both injured. Angst and bonding ensue."

So it's another tlnm au fic! And this one has Kai And Lloyd bonding specific so I like it!!!

As I was reading this when it was still being updated I was very excited every time a new chapter would come out and my heart hurt for Lloyd each time! It IS worth the read! Just note that while tis fic is completed, the au is not.

"Officer Smith, Do You Copy?" by @hijabiwriter (same username on Archive of Our Own):

Original summary:

"Everyone has their reasons for becoming a police officer. Maybe they were forced. Maybe the profession stood out to them. Maybe they had some experience that prompted the idea of becoming a police officer. But that's only a few reasons. There are others, too. Like for instance, one of these officers is out for revenge."

This fic is entered around Nya, who's a police officer alongside Jay, Cole and Lloyd (for some reason Zane is not in this au/fic). Anyways her dark secrets are explored in every other chapter alongside the progressing story, and of course, an explanation is given to everything in the end.

On a personal note this is the fic where I left my first comment on my Ao3 account lol (the historic moment is on chapter 13!!!)

"Too Late to Say Goodbye" by @greenamethyst16 (same username on Archive of Our Own)

Original summary:

"Kai gets stabbed and Lloyd helps him... :D"

I think length-wise this is the shortest fic on the list but that doesn't make it bad!!! Basically Lloyd downplays his injuries and there are consequences... :D

"All the ways I say "I love you"" by @ninja-knox-ur-sox-off (Leonardo_Charles_BlueWood_21 on Archive of Our Own)

Original summary:

"Cole loves his team. They're his family and he does everything in his power to keep them safe and steady. He does his best to let them know he cares about them in every way but one.  Or  Seven times Cole couldn't quite say "I love you," and the one time he could."

Note: This story can only be read if you're logged in on AO3.

I like this fic because it encouraged me to remind my own irl friends how much they mean to me. In this story Cole believes that he's "the rock" of the team, and hence he doesn't show his emotions much. He's never told even one of them that he loves them and thinks that they deserve better than him. So stuff happens after that :D

Okay, I've read a lot more than this but this is all I'm gonna write about now cause I'm tired and I think this post has became too long. But if you wanna read more just check out the profiles of the writers! I haven't read everything myself but most of them have other good Ninjago fics to read!

If I've tagged you or mentioned your fic and you want it removed just let me know! I have no problem with removing it! :D

[what0smart]

Absolute Power:Superson thoughts!!!

Spoilers!!!!!!

As much as I would love to make an essay on this I don't think there's any way I could organize my thoughts enough for it to be good so I'm just gonna list out my thoughts on my favorite parts!

You can find my thoughts on the first 8 pages we got as previews here (page posting limit lol)

Nia understanding that while Jon often fights alone or for people, he desperately wants to fight alongside others or for them to fight for him.

This whole page is so great, I love the direct acknowledgement that Jon has been constantly fighting and all the times he had to fight alone. I will take the volcano and Ultraman where and whenever lol

Jon clearly has been suppressing his trauma and his constant fighting to make sure he doesn't lose anything like when he lost everything as a kid is clearly taking it's toll. Nia telling Jon he doesn't need to fight for everyone else constantly and it's okay to choose himself at times. This will come back in a conversation with Jay.

I am holding out having any feelings on this cause a large part of me refuses to believe DC would actually kill her, but if she is actually dead I'm gonna come back later and stare at this page in the saddest way possible.

He's so petty it kills me lmao

While it stresses me out to see them fight I love seeing them work through it, and it really shows the differences between them especially as this whole event has probably had a major impact on Jay in a negative way.

Jon realizing that he was trying to save the idea or memory of Nia over his Boyfriend after everything that's happened and deciding to prioritize what he wants, which is Jay. (more thoughts on this page at the end lol)

I think the Amazonians asking Jon for help was kind of a reminder to Jay of who Jon is at his core. Similarly to how Jon understood he probably can't dissuade Jay from hating Nia, I think Jay was reminded that Jon is just a forgiving and loving person, it is what drew Jay to Jon in the first place and that he shouldn't expect him to have the same reaction he has to Nia's death. I think Jay was going to say yes no matter what after this realization but I feel he normally would have thought about it more but decided to take that risk and give Jon a yes so he wouldn't be worried about it while in battle, you can see Jon flies away with a much more ready attitude.

Jon's "new place" is in his dreams, I had a worry Jon was just offering to live together with Jay because he thought it's what Jay would want but the fact that this is here means he has been dreaming of living in San Francisco for a while now, and the fact that Jay not being there destroying the dream really hits it home that being with Jay is what he wants. This is not Jon trying to make sure everyone in his life is happy at the cost of his own, this is Jon listening to what Nia told him to do and is choosing himself by following his dreams.

Final thoughts

Overall I really loved this issue and it really hit my expectations. It was very tough to follow at times but that's typical of dream sequences and this issue did it well, can't wait to see how Absolute Power ends and if Amanda will FINALLY face the consequences for her actions. I'll be holding out my comments on Nia until we know for certain she's dead, Nicole loves tormenting her characters so I wouldn't be surprised but I think she would also love to continue the beef between her and Jay. I'm extremely interested and hope Nicole or Sina do something in the future for Jay and Jon because right now they are probably the people at DC who I trust the most with the boys!!!

[copiawife]

HE'S OKAY HE'S ALIVE

[sysig]

Just a bit indulgent, no harm in it, surely (Patreon)

[aparticularbandit]

So.

If you see me binging the rest of DRV3 faster than I normally games.

And then spending a lot of time playing DRS probably.

And then maybe binging through TWEWY2.

It's because I'm going through a bad time and yes I know I need to think about it some time but I'm pushing it off for future me to handle it because yesterday me got depression triggered so hard she considered self-harm again. Which isn't good for anybody!

And then got stuck in another spiral and ended up depersonalizing this morning!

SO.

I MIGHT BE GAMING A LOT.

TO NOT THAT AGAIN.

[masquenoire]

✿

PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP MEME 0.2

“Keep dancing, Bird Boy! I’ll clip your wings soon enough!”

FRIENDSHIP.     childhood friends  /  work buddies or coworkers  /  family friends  /  friends with benefits  /  smoking buddies  /  adventure buddies  /  fake friends  /  recently friends  /  party buddies  /  friendship of need  /  dying friendship  /  circumstantial friendship  /  partners in crime  /  old friendship  /  [ your muse ] is the good influence  /  [ your muse ] is the bad influence  /  [ my muse ] is the good influence  /  [ my muse ] is the bad influence  /  opposites attract  /  ride or die  /  frenemies  /  roommates or flatmates  /  penpals  /  exes to friends  /  enemies to friends  /  other (known each other so long we fire quips at one another)

ROMANCE.     childhood sweethearts  /  [ your muse is mines ] childhood crush  /  [ my muse is yours ] childhood crush  /  exes  /  exes to lovers  /  forbidden lovers  /  highschool sweethearts  /  secret relationship  /  opposites attract  /  long distance  /  unrequited [ from your muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from my muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from both sides ]  /  skinny love  /  friends to lovers  /  enemies to lovers  /  spurious relationship  /  power couple  /  newly entered  /  soulmates [ metaphorical ]  /  soulmates  [ literal ]  /  awkward  /  turning toxic  /  toxic love  /  cheating [ on your muse ]  /  cheating [ with your muse ]  /  other

FAMILIAL.     siblings [ half ]  /  siblings [ step ]  /  [ my muse ] is an older sibling figure to your younger sibling figure  /  [ my muse ] is a younger sibling figure to your older sibling figure muse  /  [ my muse ] is a parental figure to yours  /  [ my muse ] is a child figure to your muse  /  guardian figure  /  legal guardian  /  adoptive child  /  foster child  /  [ your muse ] is taken under mines wing  /  [ my muse ] is taken under yours wing  /  other (deathstroke already beat me trying to recruit you)

ANTAGONISTIC.     dangerous to each other  /  dangerous to others  /  unpredictable  /  rivals  /  petty  /  developing into sexual or romantic tension  /  based off family matters  /  based of off circumstance  /  based of professional matters  /  based off misunderstanding or lies  /  conflict of ideology  /  betrayal  /  hero - villain dynamic  /  enemies  /  fight club  /  friends turned enemies  /  lovers turned enemies  /  exes turned enemies  /  other

[kirain]

My favourite bit of BG3 lore is that Withers is legitimately responsible for the Dead Three, but he's probably too embarrassed to tell you, so every time you ask him to elaborate he just gives you a very stern, "Noooo."

I also love that the reason he's responsible for their uprising is because he got bored. He literally got bored of his position as Lord of the Dead and wanted to retire, so when these three morally questionable humans came looking for godhood he was like, "Hmmm. Yes, okay. Here. Take my portfolios. Fight over them. I don't care. I quit."

So after bowling with skulls in a friendly competition to decide who would get what portfolio, they took up his powers and wreaked havoc on the world. Only at that moment did Jergal, AKA Withers, AKA our precious Bone Daddy think, "I'm just now, internally, asking myself, in quite a worried way, whether I might've made an error."

So he joins your merry band and watches your escapades, calmly twiddling his fingers while you clean up his mess. He's happy to lend his aid, even to the point that he'll bring Durge back to life if they reject Bhaal, even though he technically shouldn't. But he's Withers. The rules don't apply to him. If Ao doesn't like it, he can descend from the Heavens and say it to his rotting face.

And the reason he saves Durge isn't necessarily because he likes them or because he's a morally good entity (though one certainly could make that argument), but because he wants to add insult to injury. He steals Bhaal's child with a big smile on his face, dubs them his Chosen, and praises them for rejecting all the power they were promised. But of course, he still doesn't tell them who he is—or rather who he was.

Then, when all is said and done, he throws Tav and their companions a cute little party. No one knows it's probably half a thank you party and half a "Withers is bored again" party. And if anyone misbehaves, he'll get irritated and whisk them away. Because how dare they? He put a lot of work into that.

And at the end of it all, he walks up to a mural of the Dead Three and basically goes, "Lmao. Thou didst fuck around, and thou didst find out." Just savagely roasting them.

And then poof!

He waves them into non-existence.

[brainfilehasstoppedworking]

Ah, Juzo. You sad gay.

...

*starts to sob*

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

To Be Wooed

I blacked out and wrote this. This is so silly to me.

Enjoy!

Look Danny didn't mean to kill the Joker it was an honest mistake, he was still recovering from escaping the GIW and whatever they had used on him had still been in effect when he honest to Ancients ran into the fake clown.

Of course it doesn't look like an accident with how he left the Joker

But it was!

Really it really was!

Whatever the GIW did was out of his system, but that still left a very dead and coreless Joker.

Yeah...apparently Joker had a core, but not anymore because he ate it like it was pop rock candy, if the weird cousin spicy version of it. He still feels like he has some of it stuck in his teeth.

Anyways! Not the point!

Joker! Very dead at his feet, what is he supposed to do-

THUMP

Oh Ancients he's going to die again that's the Red Hood!

"Uh...I can explain, well not really. But it was an accident! I promise and-"

"You killed him?"

"I'm really sorry? He bumped into me, it was an accident I swear!"

"Go on a date with me."

WHa-what?! Did he just hear correctly why would he ask him out out of nowhere it made no sense and..oh.

Red Hood's been touched by Death not like him but enough to count, and enough to have some ghostly instincts.

Okay ghostly courting he can do that, he totally can, no sweat!

Shit who is he kidding he may have the instincts but he was never actually taught how he's supposed to use them or anything.

Well he's always been good at making it up as he goes, and at least his instincts will help push him in the right direction.

So he should just do what feels natural to him.

"Yes I'll go out with you. If I were to make jewelry and knives out of his bones would you accept them?"

"...For me to wear and use. Yes."

~

Danny freaking out about just killing and kinda eating someone: I'm in so much trouble!

Jason behind him fixing his appearance: "Well hello there handsome come by here often?"

~

Joker bumping into Danny: "ahAHA you will make a good experiment!"

Danny is high as a kite and getting the munchies: "I didn't know I could order food with my mind!"

Joker: "Whut-"

~

Jason seeing Danny absolutely wrecking Jokers shit: *Ghost Instincts Activated*

~

Jason falling fast for Danny without even knowing his name: "Can I pretty please kiss you?"

Danny realizing what's going on but still being clueless: "Does that mean you will accept these gifts made from Jokers bones?"

Jason's Ghost Instincts rising to a fever pitch: "I'm going to woo the fuck out of ya and then we'll get married then we'll fu-"

~

Danny's Ghostly Instincts being connected to his 'Protection' & Jason's to his 'Revenge' showing these kind of specific gestures towards them is incredibly romantic.

~

Jason and Danny's relationship basically:

~

~

~

#They're like Morticia & Gomez absolutely smitten for each other

#Jason brings a crying & beaten up GIW who has been stalking Danny

#Danny almost swooned

#They start flirting with each other while standing on top of the GIW dude

#Jason's goons are happy that their boss found 'The One' apparently but can they please stop eyefucking each other while they're there and-

~

Just an Idea

[scorpiondeathl0ck]

if i knew it was going to end like this then i would have gone to arena mexico to get my pic with hiromu instead of watching all in.

[luveline]

𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐚𝐳, 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐝 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

Eddie has a staring problem that you barely notice, though you share an aching, awful crush. One of you has to bend first, and it’s not who you’d expect. fem, 5k 

ditzy-ish reader, pining eddie, mutual pining, confessions, first kisses, fluff and hugging, idiots in love, mild states of undress

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

It’s a day fit for a funeral in Hawkins. Rain hammers his bedroom window like hailstones, plinking against the frame, condensation running down the panes in thick rivulets he soaks up with an old t-shirt. 

It’s supposed to be spring time. Green grass, flowers, a gentle humming sun to warm the back of his neck while he sits out on the couch on the porch, a hand-rolled cigarette between his fingers, the tip shimmering with heat. 

But the rain pours. He’s cleaned his room for the first time in a month, at least, and his back aches in the best way as he lays down amongst fresh sheets. His room feels strange when it’s organised, but he doesn’t mind. He pictures the state of it through a second pair of eyes. This is a boy who cares about things, who takes care of them, who could take care of me, too. 

Rain again rackets on the metal roof above. He and Wayne keep a couple hundred bucks stashed for the day the roof flies straight off —they take turns hiding it, because cars break down and groceries get more expensive every year, but god will they need it, and so they safeguard it well. 

He syphoned a little of the money recently with Wayne’s support. It was for a good cause. 

“Jesus,” Eddie murmurs to himself, not tired but feeling dull as the clouds outside eat the remaining sun. 

It’s depressing to be poor, and to lose a day trying to hide the evidence of an entire life in a small room. He could sleep a hundred years. 

He’s just finished pulling the sheets over his shoulder when somebody knocks on the front door. Wayne opens it three rooms away, the sound of the rain doubled. 

He gives a startling shout, “Ed! Your girl!” 

Eddie topples out of bed. Doesn’t mean to, foot caught in the bottom of the sheets and stuck as he scrambles to slide out of the mess. He’s begged Wayne not to call you that when you’re within earshot, but Wayne’s a mean (kind) old bastard (middle aged dad) who wants Eddie dead (happy, and in love). 

“Come on in, girl. You’re soaking.” 

“It’s raining.” 

“It’s pouring down. Did you walk here?” 

“Took my bike. Thought I’d get struck by lightning in the car.” 

“How’d you figure?” 

Eddie goes to grab the door handle and spins on his heel, staggering onto his bed and up against the wall, where a mirrored tray once used by Dio himself for rolling hangs from the wall. He checks his face in the polished surface, his warped mouth and nose, too small eyes, and swears to himself that one day he’ll get a real mirror with a fully-functioning reflective surface. 

Then he hops down off of the bed, causing a reverberation he knows traverses the entirety of the trailer floor. Eddie snatches a rare clean towel from his laundry chair and speeds down the hall. 

“Hello,” he says, more casual than he feels to find you unexpectedly in his house. “You’re soaked.” 

You give a sweet smile. “It’s raining out, did you not know?” 

Your hair is dripping, water racing down the curves of your face to collect at your chin. Eddie can see the smudges of your makeup where it’s washing off as he wraps a towel around you, kohl on your cheeks, eyelashes turned to half-diamonds and sticky-looking. You grin at being covered, taking the towel from his fingers before he can dab you dry. 

“Why didn’t you just call me?”’

“I can never remember if your phone number ends in three or four.” 

“Seven. I wrote it down for you a hundred times.” 

You rub your eyes and spread all manner of glitter and shadow over your skin. You wipe your neck and the glitter spreads like an alien rash. 

When you talk next, you shiver, “I lost it a hundred times, sorry. Is it okay that I'm here?” 

Wayne, who’s been watching with a distinct sense of amusement from the couch, lets out a chesty laugh. “Honey, it’s always okay that you’re here on my account. And it’s my house.” 

“It’s fine.” Eddie turns your shoulder so he can mouth over it without being caught. Asshole. 

Another laugh follows. Eddie would cut each of his fingers from his hand and then his hand from his wrist if it were something Wayne needed him to do, but that doesn’t make him any less of an opportunistic asshole. If there’s a way to fuck with Eddie, he tends to try it. He loves Eddie with all the tenacity of a father who loves his son, but Wayne got infected with little bitch disease or something and Eddie can’t cure it. 

“Can I please wash my face? I didn’t expect to get soaked.” 

“Didn’t you?” He regrets his flippancy quickly, leading you down the hall. “You could take a shower. What do you think?” 

You’ve never showered here, but Eddie’s trying to, you know, date you. Romance you, get to cherish you, however anyone wants to say it. And it’s not a war of attrition, just a natural escalation of sharing, or a minimising of boundaries. 

No, that’s pervy, isn’t it? 

“I mean–” He starts to correct himself. 

You interrupt with your answer, “Yes, please, do you think I could? But I don’t have anything to wear.”

“I have your purple hoodie in my room, and there’s gotta be a pair of sweatpants here that fit you,” he says. 

They’ve got a whole bunch of clothes here that floated in from somewhere else, Eddie’s other friends or stuff they’ve bought by mistake. He’s sure he can find something.

“You have my hoodie?” you ask, black kohl spreading across the towel as you wipe your cheek. 

Eddie only smelled it one time. When he’d realised you left it in his van he brought it in and folded it, waiting for the next time he’d see you to give it back, but that night he’d been getting out of the shower wondering if he could call you or if that was too soon, and your hoodie had been right there. So he stood there in his pyjama pants with his wet hair and he didn’t think about picking your hoodie up, he just did, and when he pressed it to his face it still smelled of your perfume. 

He put it back and felt like a loser for days.

“It’s in my closet, you left it in the van Monday,” he explains quickly, nudging you through the doorway of the bathroom. 

The Munson bathroom is teeny tiny but not unnavigable. There’s a shower pressed to the far wall that could squeeze in two people, their toilet to the right, a sink basin opposite that with a medicine cabinet and just enough room for a dirty laundry box that’s always, always full. 

Eddie opens the shower and turns it on. “It takes a while to get really hot but then it’s not hot for long, sorry. There’s my shampoo if you want it, and soap, and body wash. Sorry, none of it is super girly.” 

“Sorry sorry,” you say, pretending to hit him in the stomach. “What’s with all the sorries, handsome? I can’t wait to smell like a boy.” 

The way you say it. Eddie doesn’t know what it is, but it’s why he’s crazy about you. 

Probably shouldn’t tell you that as you're taking off your jacket, though. 

“I’ll be right back,” he says. 

Eddie heads out of the bathroom to their skinny linen cabinet hidden in the hallway. He grabs the last two towels from the middle shelf and takes pause, fabric starchy in his hands. Just be normal, he thinks, a pep talk from Eddie to Eddie. She hangs out with you all the time for a reason. She held your hand at the movies. 

Eddie’s in better spirits when he remembers that. Your hand in his, your ring pushing his ring further down his finger, your cheek touching his shoulder as you’d leaned in and asked if he wanted some of your popcorn. 

He opens the door without thinking, shower pattering against the perspex wall, your legs crossing tightly as he enters, turning yourself away from him.

“Woah!” you say, laughing.

“Holy crap.” The image of your red underwear immediately stamps itself into his mind as he pulls the door shut between you. They were really cute, red and white gingham, showcasing just the slightest curve of your– “I told you I was coming back!” 

“I thought you’d knock!” you laugh. “Sorry I flashed you. At least I had my shirt on.” 

At least, he thinks wryly, shoving his arm through the gap in the door, heavy towels pulling at his fingers. His head’s about to snap off, it's turned so far away from the door’s opening. “Here.” 

“If you wanna see me naked so bad you can just ask,” you tease. 

“Take the towels, loser.” 

You take the towels and he closes the door, preventing any more accidental creeping, and giving himself a reprieve. Gingham underwear. Wavy lettuce edgings kissing your skin. 

Holy fuck. Being a person is so lame, Eddie thinks. He wants to have a crush on you purely, and yet seeing the way you’d crossed your legs to hide from him, smiling, he can’t not think about kissing you —touching you. If he doesn’t get you laid out in his bed soon for some slow kissing he’s not gonna make it.

Eddie opens the strip vent above his window and prays it doesn’t flood his whole room. Clean, it doesn’t look half bad, he could bring you in here respectfully, you could stay the night without fearing for your life. 

You take a quick shower. He’s barely gotten over his nerves when you’re walking into his room, a towel around you, not a hint of shyness about you. 

“You didn’t bring me anything to wear,” you explain. 

Eddie just stares at you. 

“Eddie?” You wrap the towel tighter. “Come on, you’re staring at me.”

“Sorry.” His mouth is bone dry. 

“You have my hoodie, right? Just need some pants.” You cross your arm tightly across your chest. “I don’t usually notice when people are staring at me.”

“You aren’t usually naked in my room,” he says, genuinely and embarrassingly apologetic. 

“I’m not naked. Come on, please? Do I have to wait outside the door?” you ask with a laugh. 

Eddie stands up. Shakes his head hard, almost trips over himself trying to get to his dresser. He decides honesty will be best at this point, lest you think he has only one thing on his mind, “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m just in my head about something and I wasn’t expecting you to come out like that. It’s not right. You’re just… you’re really pretty.” 

“Thank you.” He can’t see you, sorting quickly through his middle drawer and all his miscellaneous pants for a pair he’s sure would fit, if he could just remember where it was. “What are you in your head about?” 

“What?” 

“Eddie, are you okay?” 

“No, no,” he moans, rubbing his face with his hand, ring scratching the bridge of his nose, “I’m not okay, princess, I’m overheating or something, Jesus Christ.” He finally lays eyes on the sweatpants he’d been thinking of, grabs your hoodie from the top shelf and drops them both at the end of the bed. “I’ll give you some privacy.” 

“I don’t have any underwear.” 

“And that’s something I can’t fix,” he says, leaving the room in a hurry. 

Eddie gets to the living room and keels over. His hair falls in his face, his shirt slides down his back. What the fuck is wrong with him? 

Wayne, sliding his shoes on in the recliner, gives a start. “What’s wrong?”

Eddie lifts his head, yanking hair from his face, the skin of his under eyes pulled down harshly. “Oh my god.”

Wayne wrinkles his nose. 

“No ones ever been such a pathetic excuse for a man before,” Eddie says. 

“Your dad’s in jail,” Wayne points out. “And not for the impressive stuff.”

“I’m pathetic.” 

“You’re fine. You’re not supposed to be not pathetic, you’re twenty.” 

“I’m twenty one.” 

“The extra year doesn’t mean much. I know you think you’re all grown up, but you’re still an idiot.” 

Wayne stands and shrugs on the jacket laying over the armrest. 

“Wait, where are you going?” 

“I thought you were definitely gonna ask her?” Wayne asks knowingly. That’s what Eddie told him, after all. “Next time I see her, Wayne, I’m asking her to go steady.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “You can’t leave.” 

“Eddie.” Wayne gestures for Eddie to stop slouching like some fiend from a bad horror. “Listen. I get that you’ve always been sort of… behind everyone, but that doesn’t mean you can’t do it. She likes you. She biked here in a hurricane.”

“What if she says no?” he asks. 

Truthfully, Eddie’s more scared of you saying yes. 

Wayne shrugs. “Girl like that’ll still be your friend after. It’ll be fine, okay? Do you need a hug before I go?” 

“No.” Eddie rubs his eyes some more, sore now from being touched. “Maybe.” 

Wayne crosses the room to give his shoulder a squeeze. “It will be fine. You’re great with rejection, Eds, but I have a good feeling about this one.” 

Eddie felt better about it, before he embarrassed himself staring at you. But Wayne’s right, even if Eddie’s read things wrong between you, he’s sure you’ll still want to be his friend. You and Eddie are the same kind of weird, though he’s more angry where you’re carefree. If everything goes wrong, you’ll probably just give an unnecessary apology and offer to braid his hair. Which will be torture, but Eddie’ll still say yes.

Wayne calls goodbye, and you shout, “Bye, Mr. Munson!” to which Wayne wiggles his eyebrows. 

“Get lost,” Eddie says. 

“Go make her a drink. I’ll see you later.” 

That’s not a bad idea. Eddie makes you a mix of orange and grapefruit juice with a couple of ice cubes and a plastic straw, your reaction predicted and then proved. 

“It’s a cocktail,” you say, pleased, sitting on the side of his bed. 

“It’s not a cocktail, just juice.” 

“Can I have some socks, please, Eddie?” 

Eddie passes you your drink, fingertips brushing. “Yeah. Anything else?” He pretends to be exhausted as he trudges back over to his dresser. 

You laugh and sip your drink. “No, I think you’re treating me quite well.” 

Eddie grabs a random pair and finally gets to sit down beside you, the dresser drawer left out, a spare sock fallen to the floor. You shuffle back into his pillows, propping your juice on his side table, and holding your hands out for the socks. Again, your fingertips touch his as he passes them to you. You seem to enjoy it, a smile lighting your face as you pull your knees up to put the socks on. 

“Thank you for waiting on me,” you say quietly. Not shyly, just quiet. 

“You’re welcome. Came all this way to see me, didn’t you?” He gives you a shove. You shuffle back further. “In the pouring rain.” 

“It felt important at the time.” 

“Yeah?” 

You get the socks on and don’t care about them once they're past your heels. Eddie does the honour of smoothing out the bands so that the elastic won’t dig into your skin, and when he’s done he can feel you looking at him heavily. You’re not one for continued eye contact, but you smile like you were waiting for it all day, like it’s a relief to see him. 

“Bad weather,” you say, slouching down. “I think I’m still wet on the inside.” 

“Gross,” Eddie says, pushing you over bodily to sit beside you. This isn’t new, he doesn’t need any nerves, and he’s grateful when they don’t come. “Here, I’ll pull the blanket over you.” 

“Can’t move,” you say, leaning back against the pillows.

Eddie stretches his legs out. You keep yours up, but you turn to his side, and before he can really make any sense of you, you’re dropping your face into his shoulder. 

“Are you still cold?” he asks, searching for the truth in your strange comment. 

You nod into his shoulder. “I’m freezing. The shower didn’t get very hot.” 

“Sorry,” he says, letting his cheek rest on your head. 

You lift your chin as he does it, his lashes pressed to your forehead, the two of you stuck together like two warped jigsaw pieces. You probably weren’t made to be together, but you make a nice picture, and you fit snugly now. That’s what Eddie thinks. 

This is the sort of moment that makes Eddie wanna ask you out. Maybe you’re just the best friend he’s ever had, but something about this closeness feels different. You wrap your arm around his stomach in a hug and he knows this is different. 

“It’s okay,” you say finally, sighing as you shift downward into his side, getting comfortable. 

“Please don’t bike here in the rain. It’s, like, torrential. You could actually get sick.” 

You feel warm where your body presses against his, but Eddie doubts that’ll make a difference if the cold already made you sick. The bike ride from your place to his isn't short. He covers your arm with his and tries to be your space heater, cheek sliding over your forehead. 

“Eddie…” You hug him with tenderness. Eddie’s reluctant to say cuddle, but it’s close. “This might be a surprise to you, but I think it’s worth the rain and the cold to see you. Especially when you do this.” 

“What am I doing?” 

“You’re rubbing my arm.” 

He hadn’t noticed his hand caressing up and down your arm where it rests on his stomach. 

“You make me feel amazing,” you say, dropping your face into his chest. 

That’s his last straw. Eddie gets both arms around you and cuddles you (it’s a cuddle, okay! he’s a loser!) to him, arms tight but not cruel. All this fuss and you’re finally laying on top of him. He decides he won’t ask you after all. He’s not that brave, and he doesn’t want this to end. 

Your legs fall onto him. You relax completely. Even after you shower he can smell your perfume. 

“You smell nice,” he murmurs. 

“It’s on my hoodie,” you murmur back. 

Right. Eddie should remember. 

“You make everything smell like you.” Even his van keeps your scent most days. 

“Too much?” 

“The right amount,” he says firmly. 

You lay on his chest for a while, just breathing. Eddie rubs your back, tells himself he will ask, actually, because he can’t imagine not getting to do this again. You might even stay over. He could live hours of this. He didn’t know having you lay on him could make him feel like this. 

He can’t believe you’ve never done it before. 

Rain pounds the window. Condensation drips down onto the sill. You let your legs stretch out flat and then manoeuvre to be laying half atop him, hoodie riding up your back. 

“Any warmer now?” he asks.

“Yeah, you’re warming me up.” You lavish in his arms for a moment, and then lift your face. “Oh, this is a bad angle.” 

“For me or you?” 

“For me, duh.” 

Eddie doesn’t think you could have a bad angle. He rubs at your upper arm as you start to shift. “You know, your bike has just as big a chance of getting hit by lightning as your car does. More, probably.” 

“You think so?” 

“It’s physics. So, please don’t do it again.” 

You hum. “Hm, should I risk getting struck by lightning, or spend the evening without you?” you murmur, your arm moving, moving slowly, your hand resting gently on the column of his neck. There’s something ironic in your voice, wry, but your eyes are warm. He’s paralysed. No one has ever spoken to him like you. “I think I’d rather get struck by lightning.” 

You stare at one another. He laughs. You join in, your thumb a pressure at his neck, and when you move up his chest to lean in, he isn’t expecting it. 

“We’re very close together,” you whisper. 

“Super close,” he whispers back. 

“…Eddie, can I ask you something?” Your eyes slip shut, your lips so close that something in him aches, just enough wit about him to cup your shoulders in his forearm. 

“Yeah.” 

He doesn’t sound half as calm as you do. 

“Would you… Do you think we could be official? Would you want that?” You tilt your head to the side. “Is that stupid?” 

“Official?” he asks, panicked, his eyes squeezed shut hard enough for a moment that they ache.

“Like, you’d be my boyfriend. I’d be your girlfriend. We’d be close like this all the time.” 

Eddie panics so hard he just says the first thing that comes into his head, “Like, we’d kiss?” 

“I hope so,” you say, your nose pressing against his, the tip to the side of his, and then against his nostril. The heat of your breath is hard to ignore. “What do you think?” 

What does Eddie think about it? 

He catches your lips in a slow kiss. Achingly slow, not even sure it’s a kiss until you reciprocate, and your fingers dig behind his neck to tease his hair. Your lips part against his, the heat of your tongue sudden and undeniable —Eddie didn’t know you had it in you. He squeezes you to him, attempting to crane his neck downward, reliant on your enthusiasm as you move up, as you use his neck to pull yourself closer. 

Your noses crush together, and it actually hurts. “Sorry,” he says, easing you back, “you okay?” 

“‘Nother kiss,” you say hopefully, distractedly. 

He can’t not give it to you. 

Your hand spreads flat against his chest and you kiss, you kiss, long and slow movements against him before turning your head to take it again. Eddie doesn’t always know what to do with himself, but he knows kissing, no matter what anybody might think about him, and he takes the lead. 

His hand screws into a fist against your hoodie, the slip of your back further exposed as you shiver into his mouth, a sound you shouldn’t make sweet on his tongue. 

You pull away, breath on his lips. “Wanted you to kiss me for so long,” you murmur. 

Eddie knows you’re not saying it to flirt, and that makes it worse. 

“I should’ve kissed you a long time ago,” he says roughly. 

“You wanted to?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, so much, I’m a loser about you–”

“I’m always a loser,” you interrupt, “but especially about you.” 

You scratch your fingers through his hair, encouraging his head down for another kiss. This one rougher but not rough, his arm slips finally behind your head where he’d needed it to be, hooking you in his elbow to keep you in one place. To kiss you soundly, without interruption. Your almost feverish ebbing inward is a dream, your nose rubbing up against his is a fantasy. 

His heart hammers and hammers at his ribs. 

You pull away to let him breathe. “You’re very excited,” you tease lightly. 

Eddie kisses you, breathless. He kisses you so much he’s surprised you allow it, but your thumb rubs his cheek, and he knows he’d been right all along. You want him like he wants you, with startling, mildly pathetic urgency. 

He feels like a fucking prince. Girl of his dreams in his lap, everything he wants, and he didn’t even have to ask. 

—

Eddie spends a week in bliss. You’re suddenly everywhere, all the time, attached to his hip or some other part of him, and he forgets for seven whole days that he bought you a ring. 

The rain dries up, the Munson emergency fund lives to die another day, and he remembers the ring only minutes before you’re knocking at his door. 

He trips over himself trying to answer it before Wayne, who’s taken to being as painfully embarrassing as is possible for one human being, can get it for him. 

“One day you’re gonna eat shit and break your nose,” Wayne says. 

Eddie yanks open the door. “Yeah, thanks. Hey, beautiful, what’s with the sunglasses?” 

You slide them down your nose. You’re a vision on his front step, not that you’d ever notice your own intrigue. “The sunglasses?” you ask, tucking them away. “What do you think they’re for? Three guesses.” 

He grabs your waist, leaning down out of the doorway so as to save Wayne the agony. “That’s smart,” he says, kissing you quickly in hello. “You’re funny. Need anything before we go?” 

“No, I’m okay. Hi, Mr. Munson!” you add.

“Hey, honey! How are you?” Wayne calls.

You look up into Eddie’s face with an obvious delight. “I’ve never been better.” 

Eddie grins back. 

He waves a quick goodbye to Wayne and then he’s out the door. You grab his wrist and practically dance him to the car, where you offer your keys, and he deigns to drive. From there it’s smooth sailing, familiarity with a better twist, Eddie driving with the windows down and your hands twined on your thigh. Things haven’t changed much since you asked him to go steady, there’s just a whole lot more of this. Touching, kissing, no weird guilt about staring. 

As it turns out, you’re as eager to be laid out in his bed as he is to lay you out. He’s never wanted to kiss you more, and now he’s allowed. 

“Eyes on the road.” 

He leans over to kiss your cheek. The sun has warmed your skin, and his kiss makes you smile. You look pretty no matter the weather. 

“Before we get there, I have something to give you.” He takes his hand from yours to slide the box from his pocket. He holds it up. “But you can only have it if you swear you’ll call me tonight before bed. No excuses. You know exactly what number to call.” 

“Ends with a three,” you say, nodding. 

He sighs. “No, it does not.” 

“I’m kidding! Two one nine seven, I have now committed it to memory.” 

Eddie pays attention to the road, though it’s clear and long heading out of the trailer park and into town. “That deserves a gift.” 

You’re back in your glitters today, a skirt to enjoy the fine weather, a button shirt with a cute triangle collar, you’re lovely as ever, if a tad much for some. Not Eddie. He loves the dark clothes, the tinkling bracelets, the fun way you smile like everything he says is a secret between him and you. People stare wherever you and Eddie go, but as long your arm is sewn through his he couldn’t care less. 

“A gift,” you say, smiling in your way, and taking the box politely. “I don’t think I deserve it for just remembering your number.” 

“You deserved it for less. It’s not much. You can pay me back in three or four amazing kisses. Right here.” He points to the tight juncture beneath his jaw. 

You attempt to lean over and kiss him immediately. He pushes you back, laughing, worsened by your own breathless laughter as you steal one exactly where he’d tapped. 

You settle back down, Eddie’s hand dropping kindly to your knee. “I wonder what it is,” you say. 

“Then open it.” 

“I am!” You pop the box open, it’s springing hinge snapping into place. “Oh, woah. Woah. Where did you get this?” 

It’s a slim ring, with a weirdly shaped band of quality metal around some cheaper but not totally worthless gemstones, of which there are three different colours: a topaz orange, a lime green, and a pinky-red ruby colour centre stage. They have nice cuts. It’s strange as you are, and he knew when he saw it you’d have to have it. 

“If I put it on my marriage finger, are we engaged?” you tease. 

“That one would be way heavier,” he says, giving you a squeeze. 

You slide it onto your middle finger and hold your hand up in the sunshine. It fits in with your other ring nicely, though it is, to Eddie’s pride, far prettier. 

He has half a mind to pull over and kiss each knuckle, but he’s trying to be less dramatic about you. It’s not working. 

“Thank you, Eddie. I love it.” 

“Best boyfriend ever?” he asks hopefully. 

To his mild fear but better pleasure, you climb up onto the console to press three quick kisses to his cheek and jaw, your hand under his ear holding him in tender place. “Best boyfriend ever. Even if you stare too much.” 

“How am I supposed to not?” he asks, with more weight than he’s intended. 

You speak matter of factly for the first time in your life. “I am going to cause an accident,” you promise, attempting to kiss his nose. “A bad one.” 

“Sit down, please.” He lets you kiss his nose, and then jabs you in the side. “Sit down, oh my god! That’s not funny, you’re so pretty I will total your car.” 

“Now who’s not funny?” 

You both laugh at the same time, the unfiltered, un-cute cackling of two idiots with the same sense of humour, and the same wealth of ridiculous honeymoon love. 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed. if you did, please consider reblogging or commenting!! thanks very much <3

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC Prompt. Dead on main with priest Jason: Father Todd brings the Ghost King’s cult into the World of the Living.

So, when Jason dies and returns, the League of Assassins fails to hold him for long because spirits from Far Frozen pick him up after seeing teen through the Lazarus pit.

Jason quickly realizes that, well, they’re kinda obsessed with their cult of the Great One. And yeah the cult of the ruling Ghost King was very popular during the reign of the Pariah Dark but back then the rituals were carried out more out of fear. Now things are different. The population of the Ghost Zone has become interested in the activities of Frostbite and his loyal spirits because of an attempt to understand what kind of ghost the new ruler is and how best to thank and appease him. So Jason had no shortage of stories about the teenager's deeds.

~~~~

Jason to Frostbite: Well, you guys and your lil hobby are nice but I don't understand at all what's so cool about this guy, even if he defeated Pariah Dark and gets along with most of the Ancients…

Danny: *comes to visit Frostbite*, *slips and falls three times, sets the kitchen on fire in an attempt to make coffee then sheepishly smiles at Jason*.

Jason to Frostbite: ... Okay, Understandable, I Hope Danny Has a Nice Day and Some Sleep.

Tucker: Congratulations, you've acquired another Paulina. Great job. Danny: I'd rather he just asked me out instead of worshipping me. What the hell? I'm just a semi-ghost.

Tucker: Maybe things would be easier if you just gave him your phone number, you know? Danny: But he didn't ask. Tucker: Why didn't you ask? Danny: I couldn't! He's Robin himself, you know? Tucker: Well, good luck to you idiots to grow old alone near the altars of each other's name. Danny: Actually lil altar in his honor is not such a bad idea. Maybe this way he'll understand that I like him too.. Tucker: Danny, no!

~~~~

New in Gotham robbers break into Jason's place: Hey, father, God ordered you to share with your neighbors, so bring us some money or we.. Jason, who is talking on the phone with Danny: In fact, he just said that if you don't get out of here now, he will turn a blind eye to the fact that I will use my guns.

Danny*screams internally*: Oh Ancients, he's sooo cool!

Pandora: Honey, we're happy for you but stop flooding us with spam. You have already told 5 times during prayer how good his abs and chest look and how perfect Todd is when he reads aloud. We get it, okay? Clockwork: Well, I actually enjoy it. It's so much more interesting to watch while listening to the internal dialogue. Show must go on~ Danny: ...Get out of my mind! Nocturn: Thou shalt not take the name of the Lords in vain if you don't want to share with us, lil blob. So rude.

~~~Team Song: You Are My Religion · Firehouse~~~~

[i-cant-sing]

Okay but I need yall to help me figure out the character(s) for the following scenario:

Imagine a romantic yandere falling for reader, and ofc reader isn't in love with yandere for obvious reasons like red flags. Maybe they did try dating, Yandere is a charmer, comes from a rich family, he's smart and hardworking and oh so head over heels in love with you. He's always taking you out on best dates, HAS to get you the largest fucking bouquets (excellent taste in flowers) and buys you expensive but well thought out gifts.

But for whatever reason, things dont work out and you break things off hastily and most likely over the phone before leaving the country. And yandere just- breaksdown. I mean my man does not have a good mental health as is, but you leaving, actually leaving him just breaks him down and he has a full blown panic attack.

I'm talking about yandere falling to his knees, clutching his chest and gasping for air, tears streaming down his face as he screams your name like a mad man. His family, they love him, they adore their son/brother/grandchild sm, it pains them to see him in such a miserable state. Yandere man is so delirious that he has to be sedated, tranquillised by medical professionals because he's just losing his fucking mind, babbling your name over and over again like a mad man. His condition only worsens as time passes, and so his family decides to take drastic measures because they can't see their beloved son/brother/grandkid so fucking dead and depressed and a shell of a once bright man. They love him so much, they only want ti see him happy, so they use their money and influence to track you down and try to convince you to return and take yandere back. When you refuse, they take the high way and force you to come with them, dragging you kicking and screaming to their private jet and fly all the way home, where yandere is.

You're in a dishevelled state, tears running down your cheeks as you struggle to free yourself from their grasps as they take you to yandere. And when yandere sees you... for the first time in months, his family sees the light return in his eyes as the yandere reaches out for you, scared that you're just his mind playing tricks. When he finally touches you, he is immeadiately pulling you into a hug, arms tightening around your body like a gilded cage as he cries into your shoulder and thanks his family for bringing you back. His family only smiles with tears in their eyes as they lock the door behind them when they leave, so that you don't go running away. Meanwhile, yandere has pulled you into his lap and he's looking at you with such sad eyes, staring at each feature of yours over and over again as if to memorise it all again. He can't help the tears that continue to slip out of his eyes, maybe he's crying that you're finally here, or maybe he's crying for all the time that's been lost when you weren't here. You fall asleep soon due to exhaustion, but yandere doesn't sleep a wink that night because he continues to stare at you and play with your hair very gently, finally closing his eyes when morning comes and he wraps his arms around you and traps your legs with his.

By now, you guys realise that the yandere's family is not only yandere for their son/brother/grandson but also for you. They are yandede for you too, but they're not allowing you to leave them or their son or even make him unhappy ever again. Some members are willing to let all you "tantrums" slide, while others are not so kind. BUT one thing is for sure, you're ALWAYS safe with yandere s/o, no matter what.

Now, for the characters I've had in kind for this scenario are:

Halim Mehmet Shah and the Shah Family (my ocs)

Dabi/Shotou and Todoroki clan (I am the OG creator of Yandere Todoroki Clan)

I wanna say Naoya or Toji but the Zenin clan hates them both....

Dick Grayson/Jason Todd and Batfam

What do you guys think?

Mood board for this scenario^^^(I love Pinterest)

[neo-nomatrix]

Best of Wives and Best of Women

Willy Wonka x reader

word count: 527

summary: Willy’s newest shop ends up a disaster, you have news that may cheer him up.

warnings: pregnancy, angsty

He promised you the world. From the moment you and Willy had met he had two missions. Start his successful chocolate business, and make you the happiest woman alive or dead. You knew he would fulfill both, when you locked your pinky with his you had put your full faith in him.

“It's failing, I'm a failure,” Willy had said to you unexpectedly one day. He took off his hat and pulled a glass from it, pouring himself a glass of clear liquid. one you hoped was just water.

“What are you talking about? Are you okay?” You ask him with a worried look.

“Okay?! Of course I am not okay! My business is failing, I failed you,” he lets out a breath, drinking from the glass quickly.

“You haven’t failed anyone, especially not me! So stop talking nonsense!” you sit up from your chair in disbelief.

“I don’t know what to do,” his eyes well and he takes off his coat.

“You don’t give up, that’s what. Besides, I think I have some good news that will help you.” You hold his hands and smile.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” He looks up at you.

You wipe his tears and blush. You take his hand and place it on your newly rounded stomach. You bite your lips nervously waiting for his response.

“You… you’re… no. no you- can’t,” he pulls away and shakes his head.

“I can’t? You’re not happy?” Your smile fades as you look down in shame.

“You are? We haven’t any money, any prospect, we barely have a home,” he raises his voice. his brows furrowed in anger? disappointment?

“We don’t need money, we have each other, our love. That’s enough,” You scoff.

“No it’s not! To raise a family you need far more than just love. If I can't even give you a good life, how will I give one to a child?”

“You do give me a good life, the best life. Because you are a good man. and we’ll figure it out. We always do. Things may seem grim now, but trust me Mr.Wonka, we will be world renowned by the time we have the babe,” You smile at him, not knowing if he believes you, or if you believe yourself.

“You pinky promised me didn’t you? The most sacred of all the promises,” you add.

“I did! I did indeed. And of course, I will keep that promise. For you, for our child,” His shoulders roll back, he stops slouching. His eyes light up and puts his hat back on.

You both smile wildly and he presses a kiss against your lips. He opens his travel laboratory and mixes his ingredients together. Taps the button engraved with a heart and your initials together. A small peony shaped chocolate rolls out of the conveyor belt.

“For you. Both of you,” he looks down at your stomach, “the kids first taste of our future.”

You take a bite of the chocolate flower and close your eyes.

“My favorite,” you trail off and smile.

“I love you. I’ll give you both the best life.”

“I’ll hold you to it, Mr.Wonka.”