#EXCEPT IN MY FIRST YEAR OF HAVING IT

[autisticlancemcclain]

I FUCKING HATE SHARING SPOTIFY WITH A THIRTEEN YEAR OLD 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[starry-bi-sky]

Unpleasant Revelations - DPxDC Ficlet Idea for the Stillborn Au

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because it really only meant one thing.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were related.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were brothers.

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

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

It would be a firestorm.

One that Vlad is not keen on starting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bastard.

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

But, well.

They all have their dark secrets.

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

"I see."

[egophiliac]

I love your take on Crowley!

I know that the early, non-Diasomnia stories aren't really your thing, but are you reading the novels at all?

I have been following some of the fan translations and the second book seems intense! Would love to hear what you think about them.

thank you! 💚💚💚 I'm not really sure why you think I don't like the earlier arcs though, I love pretty much all the characters and their storis! (I think 5 and 1 are my favorite of the past episodes, though 6 infected me with the Shroud brainrot something fierce.) I just...ESPECIALLY love diasomnia. :') but there is room in my heart for all of these dweebs! like, who among us is not just as ride-or-die for Adeuce as they are for us.

that said, I don't really follow the other adaptations like the manga (aside from a dip-in just to see the new Yuus) or the novels, though I keep meaning to check them out! I do like seeing the differences between the different forms of media, and how certain things get adapted one way or another! but alas, time/a lack of accessibility stands in our way more often than not. :( someday...someday I will have time to consume all of the media...

[yuwuta]

gojo would kill your work husband. but if he were the work husband, that's a different story

REAL!! he’s such a hypocrite because if someone mentioned you had a work husband, his entire world would stop and he wold devise the absolute worst plans to make sure that your co-worker, everyone at your job, and everyone in the next building over knew that he was happily committed to you 

but if he is the work husband, he’s very........ dutiful in his role. there’s a loose office/lawyer au in my head where satoru is your secretary, and for all intents and purposes, your personal assistant, and he’s good at his job, but mostly because he considers his job to be pleasing you. he has coffee for you when you arrive, he moves your schedule around without you asking, he has answers to questions before you can even ask them, he has fresh flowers on your desk weekly, pokes into your meetings to pretend to hand you a file that’s really just maybe a single document in a manilla folder with candy on top of it—he’s made himself your business, your partner; he’s made himself irreplaceable, and he loves to remind everybody of that fact. 

he’s also extremely loyal. sure, he could day a week’s worth of work done in about a day, but that doesn’t mean he’ll just use his talents for anybody. he’s your secretary, so he’s at your beck and call, and everyone knows it. they know he’s the best, but also that he’s off limits—not because you won’t share him, but because satoru won’t let himself be shared. 

he also extends his duties beyond work, of course. when he hands you a print out of your schedule for the day and you’re confused by the three-hour block of time you have in the middle of the day, satoru just helps you shrug your coat of your shoulders and smiles, “that’s for the lunch date you have with me, of course!” hanging up your coat in your closet for you, “i’m paying, see you soon, sweets.” and because you’re great at your job, and satoru helps you be great, nobody really questions when the two of you have time for a 13-course tasting menu at 1pm on a tuesday afternoon. and if they did, all satoru would say that you two had a lovely date 

[paxcallow]

thanks BBVRAI/HLVRAI for reminding me how to draw. now i can come back to toblr.

[shannonsketches]

Why is the anime so weird, it's not even the same series dude?? It's like,

Anime:

GOKU: I have a great idea to bring peace to the universe, and my leadership and compassion alone will unite us all. I have No Flaws and am A True Relatable Everyman :)

VEGETA: NO! I AM THE BEST AND I WILL CAUSE PROBLEMS UNTIL I AM RECOGNIZED AS SUCH!!!!

Manga:

GOKU: Vegeta what's cornmeal made of? I know it's what the corn eats, but what's it made of? VEGETA: Hey Kakarot let's play the quiet game until one of us dies.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Flashback, warm nights.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[sacchiri]

Hellsing 2002 calendar illustration.

Ein wunderliche und erschröckliche Hystori von einem großen Wüttrich genant Dracole wayda Der do so ganz unkristenliche marrter hat angelegt die mensche, als mit spissen als auch die leut zu Tod geslyffen

A wondrous and frightening story about a great berserk called Dracula the voivode who inflicted such unchristian tortures such as with stakes and also dragged people to death

[non-plutonian-druid]

the concept for this is "what if voltron aliens were like, a little bit less humanoid." Galra (and alteans, not pictured) get to be the most humanoid because theyre main characters lol

[ID: various voltron aliens redesigned to remove many of their humanoid features. The Galra are largely unchanged; the only difference is that they have six limbs. Keith is demonstrating standing on four limbs; he looks not unlike a centaur, although the "horse" part is just a continuation of his body, not a horse (and is also the same color as his human skin, because it is human skin. sorry not sorry). Kolivan is demonstrating standing on two limbs, and towers over everyone else. Krolia is demonstrating standing on all six limbs, which looks uncomfortable but possible.

There is also an example of an Olkari; whose face is unchanged but now is built similar to a praying mantis; a Puigian, who retains the approximate locations of the face markings and horns but looks more like some kind of deer creature; an Arusian, which is built like a snail; and a mer alien, which now looks like a fish with hands and antennae. The Olkari is based on Ryner, and the mer alien is Plaxum. End ID.]

[florida3exclamationpoints]

Peggy Carter + text posts

[jklpopcorn]

tfw you forget to plug in your phone the night before

[official-lucifers-child]

just experienced true homesickness for the first time. what the actual fuck was that.

[cerise-on-top]

IT'S MEEEE! 😆 how're you doing?

I want some ANGST! But with a happy ending with Fluff!

Valeria/Laswell/Farah have a stressful day, and they are in a bad mood and take it out in the reader.

Take your time and take care! 🫶

Hello again! Welcome back! I'm doing fine, I'm just a bit tired right now, but I should be alright by tomorrow! First off, I'm so sorry this took so long! I tried to make it a bit longer than I usually would as an apology! There's not a whole lot of angst, aside from the girls having had a rough day and accidentally letting it out on reader, but I tried! I hope it's to your liking! Thank you for your request!

Valeria, Farah and Laswell Taking their Anger out on Reader but then Comforting them

Valeria: It was likely Alejandro who got on her nerves, chasing her like a dog would its own tail, only to never catch her after all. If she could, she would have him killed just like that. Much to her dismay, however, he was slippery, a trained killer whose only weakness was either himself or Rudy. But even the latter was hard to catch, so both of them meeting a fitting end would yet have to wait some more. At that moment, all Valeria wanted was to spill some blood. Anyone’s would have been fine. Walking through the door to your shared home, she watched you fold some clothes in the living room, putting them aside carefully so as to not put too many folds in them. Waving to her once you put down the sweater, you greeted her, wanting to throw your arms around your partner. Yet, fear struck you as Valeria glared at you, looking as though she was about to rip your throat out using her bare teeth. Thus, you kept your hug to yourself, a bit intimidated by her.

Instead, you tell her that you made some food, some vegetable stew, which she could easily reheat in the kitchen. Somehow, that information made her even more furious. Seemingly disappointed in your choice of cooking, she cussed. At first not at you, but when you tried to deescalate the situation, insisting that you could cook her a meat based dish as well, Valeria’s fuse blew. Her voice grew louder, almost booming, with her explicitly telling you that she didn’t fucking care about the food. It wasn’t the first time you had seen her act like this, but not towards you. Therefore you figured she must have had an extremely rough day. Even so, when she was done, you muttered an apology, going to your room and avoiding her for the rest of the evening so she could blow off some steam. It wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t have known after all, but you still felt like a failure, awaiting the seconds, the minutes, the hours, until you could finally go to bed. Just hearing Valeria stomp around outside your room made your blood freeze in your veins.

It wasn’t until 21:23, as you were just about to head to bed, that you heard a knock on your door. Even without your permission, it was opened, showcasing Valeria on the other side, seemingly having calmed down a bit. Leaning against the doorframe, she complimented your cooking. It was as delicious as it had always been, very well seasoned and very filling after all. You did nothing wrong, she, too, assured you of that. While she won’t go into detail regarding what exactly happened for her to snap at you like that, simply mentioning a few sleazebags who had caught up with her, you will hear something that only ever leaves her mouth when she’s wronged you for no good reason: an apology.

If you let her in, then she’s more than happy to try and comfort you. Yes, it’s a bit awkward since she’s not used to doing so, but seeing your eyes wide, your body tense, all because of her does take its toll on her. If you don’t wanna be touched just yet, that’s fine, she can respect that. But if you do allow it, then she’ll gently grab your hand and squeeze it a few times. She’s tired too, so she likely won’t be doing anything big with you anymore that night, but she’s open to making plans with you and discussing them. She really wants to right her wrongs when it comes to you, so you’re more than welcome to make a suggestion. You wanna have a picnic with her? She knows Las Almas quite well, some beautiful, undisturbed spots coming to mind almost immediately. You wanna go shopping? You can ask her for just about anything you want, she’ll give you extras to go this time too. You wanna stay in and watch a comfort movie? While she may not be one for watching movies, she will make an exception for you. She always does when she can.

Discussing those plans with you, she’ll try to make you smile at least a little bit. Once she’s sure you’re not afraid of her anymore, she’ll give your cheek a little kiss, joking around a bit more than she did before. She won’t bother you for the rest of the evening unless you explicitly seek her out, but she will keep an eye out for you, leaving you a few snacks right in front of your door. Maybe even some money so you can get yourself something fancy and nice. Problem is, she likely won’t have too much time, but she’ll be damned if she won’t take better care of you, if just temporarily. Even though she’ll always try her best to take care of you, it’s you we’re talking about, after all.

Farah: Another stressful day during the revolution. With an ambush surprising her, leaving her and her people a bit more vulnerable than usual, with her almost losing some of her best and closest fighters, it was only natural for Farah to be a bit more on edge than usual. Normally so calm, able to calculate the best moves and maneuvers for just about anything, no matter what happens, this was something she did not foresee at the time, thinking she had had the upper hand instead. It was only when she finally had the time, just a day or two, for you, mad as she usually never was, that she walked through the door, throwing her gun to the cabinet. Despite not being such a loud person, a sniper had to be quiet and patient, after all, she made quite a ruckus when she had finally returned. You were ready to greet Farah, give her a big smile and make her feel welcome and home as only you could. Soon enough, however, you did feel that something was off. Despite being stressed more often than not, she usually wouldn’t scowl at you like that for no reason.

You offered her a hug, opening your arms wide despite your expression betraying your nervousness. Aside from a glare, you got no reaction. Eventually, you put your arms down and she greeted you, venom spewing from her words. The toxins could corrode even the strongest iron walls, leaving you defenseless in your fear. Did you do something this time? Likely not, Farah just got home after all, but the thought still lingered. Although she was normally so chatty when she was just a bit exhausted, she stomped away, not saying a single word to you. First the bathroom, then the kitchen and lastly her bedroom. The clanking of cutlery against a plate could be heard, but that’s about it. You felt awful, something properly terrible must have happened to her for her to act like that. But it wasn’t like you could change it, so you lowered the volume of your TV instead before turning it off entirely and reading something on your phone.

Another few hours had passed, you barely even dared to move a muscle aside from scrolling on your phone, much less make any noise. What if it was you after all? What is Farah was about to leave you for something you didn’t even know about? Your thoughts spiraled, with every following one being worse than the previous one. You folded the blanket and put it on the arm of the couch, ready to head to bed when you bumped into her. Quickly, you uttered an apology before being ready to dart off to your own room, but Farah held you in place, asking you if you had a moment to spare and listen to her. It was dark already, with the dim artificial lights doing you no favors in seeing her any better either, but she sounded calmer than before. Still slightly annoyed, but it seemed like whatever had gotten into her had lessened its grasp on her. Tugging you onto the couch, she apologized for giving you such a harsh and cold treatment, simply figuring that waiting until she had calmed down would be better than letting it out on you, who had no part in it. The situation was dire for her, she told you a bit about it. About the ambush, about the people she’s almost lost during it. She knew that she really shouldn’t have been acting like that towards you, and for that she apologizes one last time.

Once she was done explaining what had upset her to you, she’d be quiet, remorseful, until you’d speak up again. She’d love to make it up to you, you really didn’t deserve such harsh treatment after all. If you just want a hug or a kiss as a form of apology, she’ll smile at you, being more than willing to give you just that. However, she will also ask you if that’s everything you wanted. That would be your chance to ask for something reasonable from her. Sure, she won’t be able to buy you a new car, but you’re more than welcome to ask her for some alone time, just the two of you. She might only have a day or two away from the fight, which she was going to spend with you either way since she rarely gets to see you, but if you have special requests, that would be the best time to suggest them. There may not be too many fancy restaurants or malls nearby, but you can always just watch a silly movie or take a walk together.

Farah would literally swear to you that she’s going to make it back in one piece to you. After all, there’s no one else she’d rather roam the streets with during a beautiful cloudless night. Besides, she made two promises that night: to make it back to you and to make it up to you. Farah would fight any deities out there to make it back to you, no matter if it was a losing battle or not. If it’s you then she’ll fight as dirty as possible to see you smile again.

Laswell: She was likely taken off a case, in spite of her having enough evidence to prove everything that needed to come to light. With her wit, with her having the right people at her disposal, she could have brought this to an end. However, her incompetent superior had other plans, letting it all rot in darkness instead, until everyone forgot it ever even happened. Laswell was furious, no matter how much she argued, her superior wouldn’t budge and for that she silently cursed. Normally so calm and composed, this time she wished she could have blown someone’s brain out for being the dumbest creature alive. But alas, such a thing was illegal, if someone ever were to find out. She entertains the idea for a few minutes, but quickly enough shakes her head, thinking of other ways to accomplish her goal. Walking through the door, she already heard you singing along to some tune, the music unnecessarily loud. You likely didn’t hear her come in, which in and of itself wouldn’t have been a problem. On any other day.

Only when she turns off the music do you realize she’s here. However, her grimace was already telling. Shyly, you greeted her, but not much else, letting her speak instead. The fury had gotten to her head, her face being slightly more red than usual. This time, she was stern, telling you that you really shouldn’t listen to your dumb music this loudly at such an hour. She was going to get a massive headache from today, if only because of you needing to turn up the volume impossibly high. While Laswell wouldn’t yell at you, her words would be sharper than an obsidian knife instead. Indeed, she’s not trying to actively hurt you, in fact, once her little lesson on you maybe being a bit more quiet is over, she’ll feel bad, apologizing immediately. It would take her much, much longer than that to actually calm down, but once she sees your scared, saddened expression, unable to really say much, she’ll say she’s sorry and let you go, watching you as you quietly trot away with your head hung low. Sighing to herself, she already comes up with plans on making it up to you, but she knows she can’t control her anger as she was right now.

A few hours later, you’d hear the bell ring, but not be quite ready to leave your room just yet. It likely was for Laswell, not for you, so you simply stayed put, hoping that she had calmed down a bit by then. However, your ears would perk up upon hearing her knock on your door, asking you to come to the living room so you could eat something together. Despite being a little bit skittish still, afraid to anger her further, you soon enough noticed she had calmed down again, with your favorite takeout from a restaurant you usually suggest lying on the table. Once seated, Laswell opened the packages, handing you your food. In a much more serene tone, she’d apologize yet again. Your music wasn’t dumb, it wasn’t giving her a headache, she just had a very rough day and needed some peace and quiet. Laswell hopes you can understand this, even if she did treat you unfairly. She recognizes that, and that she also tells you, with her promising to try her best to not have it happen again.

Laswell won’t go into detail either regarding what happened, for obvious reasons, only that some inconvenience happened today, which upset her a great deal. But that wasn’t what was important at that moment. She was calm, hopefully you were as well. And if not, then she’d try her darndest to make it that way. Considering she, technically speaking, had more time that day, and the following ones as well, she’d be the one to suggest going out the next evening. Maybe a nice and fancy restaurant, maybe a show like a musical at the broadway. Or maybe the two of you just want to take a vacation somewhere nearby. Either way, Laswell has plans for the two of you, having brainstormed a few in the past few hours. She’ll get her way at work eventually, it just might take some time, so she’ll happily “indulge” her superior for a few days before going back to crack the case either way. It would make her all the less suspicious. Besides, she’d get to spend time with you as well, even if all you wanted was to just go window shopping at the local mall.

That evening, she’d likely just want to watch TV with you, continuing to discuss your plans for the next few days. But after that she’s more than happy to book whatever it is you want to do afterwards. While she might not be the biggest fan of such, she will even go to the nearest Six Flags with you and ride a few attractions just to see you smile and hear your laughter, as well as excited screams, yet again.

[novelconcepts]

There really aren’t words to describe the simple queer joy that is lounging on the couch shirtless after top surgery.

[thegreatyin]

happy birthday to me

[malk1ns]

1st sentence ask - "It's gameday so you better not knot me"

Zhenya blushes when he says it, but with the way Sid's been following him around all morning, from the weights room to video review and even into the trainer's despite Zhenya's protests, he thinks it needs to be said.

The team is already on tenterhooks, watching them like hawks—with Zhenya's heat approaching like a freight train and the way Sid's been haunting his footsteps, they're ready to pull the plug on the whole experiment if it looks like it's going to negatively impact the on-ice product, and Zhenya thinks both of them missing a game because Sid pinned him down and tied them together would definitely qualify.

"Hmm," Sid says, crowding into Zhenya's space; he's shorter, but the width of his body makes Zhenya feel small, even younger than he is, like he wants to curl up in the protective crush of Sid's arms and let Sid do whatever he wants.

Omega instincts are a real bitch, but Zhenya's made it to the NHL on nothing more than will and grit, and he's determined that he won't be.

Sid's voice is hypnotic when he puts his lips to Zhenya's year and murmurs, "I think you don't mean a word of that," and Zhenya shivers, because it's true.

first line ask game!