#Spoiler alert: he is!!!

[maia-radfemdu]

If you see me at a volleyball tournament don't judge me y'all (he's playing)

[lilislegacy]

percy, walking in the door: what smells so good?

annabeth, beaming: i made you every type of blue dessert that i could think of!

percy: oh yeah? what’s the occasion? oh crap, did i forget an anniversary?

annabeth: can’t a wife just bake for her husband?

percy, staring at her:

annabeth, staring at him:

percy, firmly: wise girl, we are not having another baby.

annabeth, frustrated: oh come on percy! why not?

percy: we’ve talked about this. we agreed to be done years ago. we have three, and they’ve destroyed half of our belongings! i mean, sure it would be fun, and i love babies and having kids with you, but we can’t just—

annabeth: if you agree to another baby, i’ll agree to another dog.

percy:

annabeth:

percy: are you bribing me into having a child?

annabeth: of course not! …why? is it working?

percy: of course not! but… keep talking.

annabeth: we can get a brand new little puppy. and you can choose both the breed and the name. maybe you can finally get that shepherd mix you’ve always wanted.

percy, rubbing his beard and thinking:

percy: you know, i’ve heard the transition from 3 to 4 kids is super easy. the little one would probably just fit right in.

annabeth: exactly. and since we’re so busy, my pregnancy will fly by. and the labor will be super fast since it’s my 4th. it’ll all happen in the blink of an eye. we’ll hardly even notice.

percy: true. then the baby and the puppy can just entertain each other.

annabeth: they’ll practically cancel each other out. and this way we’ll have an even number of kids.

percy, pointing at her: good for roller roasters.

annabeth, pointing at him: and family game nights.

[dekariosclan]

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio Nobody Knows AU DP x DC Part 4

Part 3

(Tim POV! This is a long one 😅)

 Tim almost has it. He's so close to cracking this file he can fucking taste it. He's been fighting this thing for two weeks. It's the most incomprehensible and infuriating code he's ever faced off against, which is fitting considering who gave it to them.

The engineer. THEIR engineer. The engineer they didn't ask for and Tim still isn't sure how they got, and the single biggest mystery in Tim's fucking life right now.

See, a significant amount of Bat gadgets at this point are Tim's brainchildren. He imagines them, he designs them, he workshops and tests them.

A few months ago, he'd had a pouch on his utility belt full of experimental pellets meant for slowing down fleeing vehicles. They were designed to break when run over and the compound inside would expand into durable, sticky foam that would ensnare tires.

He'd tested them in the cave.

He had not been prepared to take one hit to that side and have to frantically divest himself of that pouch before he became Gotham's latest foam based cryptid. 

His family had laughed themselves silly at him even as he broke off in pursuit of the drug runners he'd been fighting.

When Tim had doubled back expecting a mess to clean up and pellets to rework? It had been gone. All of it. The foam, the pellets, the pouch of his utility belt.

A serious problem, because who knows who got their hands on that?

Then it had shown back up.

That is to say, Gordon had called them because he found a pouch with a note labeled ‘for Red Robin’ sitting on the stand of the Bat Signal and didn't dare touch it.

After making sure it wasn't a bomb or some kind of biological weapon, Tim had opened the pouch - his own belt pouch - and found pellets. New pellets. Different pellets.

The note just read, “As funny as that was to watch, I fixed them for you. No more premature sploogage on the job. :3 P.S. here's a recipe for solution to dissolve future intentional discharges.”

They'd been right, too. The new pellets were tested (in case THEY were a bomb or biological weapon) and they'd been just strong enough to safely transport but still break when under the pressure of tires. Even the foam was more effective, and the spray Tim synthesized from that stupid recipe had worked like a dream.

What. The fuck.

This person not only improved his design and came up with a dissolution agent from scratch in days, they'd been watching without him knowing and made off with the original pellets without anyone noticing.

This was either a rogue in the making or someone they wanted on their side, and either way they needed to be found.

So Tim had done the obvious.

He'd put together a lockbox of money for the product they'd been given, loaded it with no less than ten (10) bat trackers and a note thanking their mysterious benefactor and requesting to meet up. He'd exploded a foam pellet on a rooftop and left the box on it in the hopes they'd notice and find it, then hung around far enough to not be seen and close enough to beat feet as soon as the trackers started moving. 

They did not start moving. They all went offline simultaneously. 

Tim has never moved so fast in his life, and yet by the time he got to the rooftop there was a pile of foam and nothing else. Not even a trace of whoever took the lockbox.

The next day, there was a ping of one (1) tracker that led them to a note thanking him for the money, refusing to meet, and asking if they'd considered certain improvements to their grapples with schematics for said designs.

Thus started the most bizarre and infuriating chase through notes, money, helpful designs and disappearing trackers Tim has ever been a part of.

Last time, the engineer had left them a USB stick and a note claiming that since they really wanted to know about him so bad, they could have the information on the USB if they could crack the encryption on the zip file inside.

Obviously they screened heavily for viruses or backdoors, but long story short Tim has been trying to crack the fucking thing for two weeks and refuses to let Oracle help. It's personal. It's a matter of pride. 

He could swear the code itself has actively been sabotaging his attempts to hack it, which is, you know. Impossible. 

Ping!

Tim blinks, looking over at the map on another monitor of the Bat computer. 

“Motherfucker-”

He taps into Duke’s comms. This is the first time this has ever happened during the day shift, he wasn't expecting it.

“Signal! I need you on the roof of the warehouse on the corner of Fifth and Everest - a tracker just came online.”

Another thing that infuriates Tim. You can't just turn Bat trackers on and off. They're activated, and then they either stay active or they're destroyed. They can't be turned off and then reactivated.

And fucking yet.

Duke groans, but his own tracker starts making its way in that direction.

“Dude. He's gonna be long gone by the time I get there. He always is.”

“He can't run from me forever,” Tim insists. “I'm almost in this damn file, and I am going to find him and dangle him off a roof from his ankles for giving us this runaround, so help me God.”

“Uh huh,” Duke deadpans. “Sure you are. I'm almost there, and- oh look! A note. What a surprise!”

Tim hears Duke touch down on the rooftop, eyes on the code on his screen while his brother clears his throat and reads aloud.

“Ahem- ‘Good morning, sunshine!’ - guess that's me - ‘I hear some bats and birds have been murdering tires at an alarming rate with the way they drive their bikes-’”

Tim freezes. He's not listening anymore.

“Signal.”

“‘- and that just can't be good for business. Nobody wants a bald tire ruining a chase. So boy do I have the thing for you-”

“Signal!”

“What?”

“I got it.”

“Huh? Got what?”

“I cracked his file. I got it.”

Tim is staring, wide eyed and full of a mixture of elation and trepidation at the contents of the zip file. It's a single text file titled, ‘Wow! You did it!’

“Oh, shit? Well? What's in it?”

Tim swallows, mouse hovering over the file. He takes a deep breath, then double clicks.

The file opens.

Tim blinks.

“Red Robin? What's in it?”

Tim scrolls slowly down, disbelief and horror dawning across his face. “Oh my God.”

“What? Come on, man, talk to me.”

Tim scrolls further.

“Oh. My God.”

“Red? Red Robin, you're scaring me, man.”

Tim puts his face in his hands. Voice muffled, he responds.

“Duke.”

“...Red? You okay?”

“No.”

“No?”

“It's the entire Bee Movie script.”

Silence reigns for a solid five seconds before Duke breaks and descends into raucous, hysterical laughter.

Even muffled by his own hands, Tim's scream of rage scares the bats in the cave into a tizzy.

Part 5

Masterpost

[skecherss]

(i think that's a threat)

[tonycries]

Nanami uses-his-technique-the-way-it-shouldn't-be-used Kento, actually doesn't even have to use his cursed technique to hit at all your sweetest spots. He just knows you that well that you're cockdrunkenly starting to wonder that it has to be some sort of special jujutsu?

It has to be the work of not just him and his ruthless hips. Swiping his fat cock down all your sensitive spots like he'd mapped them out for ages before, crashing into them over and over so hard that you wonder whether it's bruising.

It has to be, right?

[warning-heckboop]

Hazel, Jasmine, and Winn find their plans to mend fences disrupted when they discover Anti-Fairy magic is evident in Dev's reoccurring nightmares.

So do you guys ever get so invested in a fake episode that you made up in your head that you make a fake title card and synopsis for it? No? Yeah, me neither.

[giddlygoat]

based on this au i made. don’t worry, i’m sure they’ll work it out

[gloomysoup]

i was GOING to write this weekend, but instead i've made the decision that i'm going to landscape my entire backyard on my own (usually my mom does all of the landscaping) and i've been cleaning it out all weekend. it is taking forever. so uh here's a snippet of a wip to make up for not doing like... anything lately :D

-

“You've got a boy in your bed,” the older man stated, clearly not a question anywhere to be seen. It was merely an observed fact of life.

“I do,” Eddie said slowly, unsure where this conversation was headed or how to explain what was actually happening.

“You haven't had a boy in your bed in a long time.” Again, it was merely a statement. No question. Again, Wayne was right. Eddie hadn't even thought about meeting someone else since Steve disappeared, and Wayne was plenty aware of that. “Not since Steve.”

Eddie knew Wayne was taking a chance saying Steve’s name. It had been a sensitive subject for a long time. Eddie took a deep breath and tried to decide how best to say it. Wayne clearly doesn't know that the boy in his bed is Steve, if the way he was looking at Eddie was anything to go by.

“This somethin’ we should talk about? I know you've been havin’ a rough go of it since last summer, and then whatever the hell happened over spring break. You ain't self destructin’, are ya?”

“No, no, it's nothing like that,” Eddie said quickly, throwing a glance over his shoulder to his bedroom door, which was left slightly cracked. “Um, actually, it's- God, I really don't know how to say this other than to just say it.” Wayne looked at him with an expectant eyebrow raised. “It's Steve.”

[aftgscenes]

Bitches will get sooo mad at Nora for saying Neil and Andrew don’t say I love you because “they deserve to heal!!!” But then they completely ignore her when she says Andrew bottoms and they are both switches -like girl your heteronormativity is showing

[ultravioletbrit]

“wind” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 368 words

Regulus is sitting by the Black Lake with James. James’ back is against a large tree, and Regulus’ back is against James’ chest.

The sun has already dipped below the horizon, but Regulus hasn’t realized how cold it’s gotten until a particularly strong gust of wind makes him shiver in James’ arms.

“We should head in.” James says as he’s rubbing his hands up and down Regulus’ arms.

“Not yet.” Regulus pouts and snuggles impossibly closer to James.

“Love, you’re freezing. Plus, we’re already late for dinner.” James tells him.

“Ugh. Fine.” Regulus grumbles as he stands up.

The wind continues to blow, making Regulus’ teeth chatter. James shakes his head as he takes off his scarf and wraps it around Regulus’ neck then uses the ends to pull him in for a kiss. They get lost in each other for a moment before Regulus shivers again and James pulls away with a small chuckle.

“Let’s get you inside, love.” James takes Regulus hand, and they walk back to the castle.

———

His friends are already eating by the time Regulus makes his way to the Slytherin table.

“You’re late, Black.” Barty snarks as Regulus sits down.

“I didn’t know I had to check in with you, Crouch.” Regulus fires back with no real heat.

“No, but it would’ve been nice to let us know you were switching houses.” Barty smirks at him.

Regulus looks at him confused until Evan nods towards Regulus’ neck. Regulus looks down and his eyes go wide when he sees the bright red Gryffindor scarf wrapped around his neck. 

“Now…” Barty continues. “Whose could that be, I wonder.” He dramatically taps his finger on his chin.

Unfortunately, James chooses this exact moment to enter the Great Hall. Regulus resists the urge to groan as Barty and Evan are barely holding back their amusement.

“Hmmm…” Barty hums. “Potter also happens to be late for dinner. And is suspiciously missing a scarf. Curious.”

“You know what?…” Regulus starts but then realizes he has no defense. “Shut it, Crouch.” He grumbles after a moment.

Barty and Evan’s laughter fills the Great Hall and Regulus drops his head in his hands, knowing his face is probably the same color as the scarf around his neck.

[your-dead-european-ancestor]

Dick: aw cmon timmys just a little guy

Bruce: im sure he had his reasons

Alfred: im certain you'll find that master tim is quite reasonable. He wouldn't do anything outrageous

Barbara: tim isnt stupid. Im sure this is all part of his plan

Literally anyone else gesturing at tims entire vigilante career:

[idliketobeatree]

hey do you think Charles would fall for Niko shouting "help! Edwin is not moving, he needs CPR!" dropping everything like oh shit and getting deadly serious ready for that mouth-to-mouth action, as Crystal screams in the distance HE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE TO BREATHE CHARLES

[ghcstao3]

“Hair’s gettin’ a bit long, yeah, Simon?”

Simon waves Tommy off as he feels him pinch at a tuft of hair, unwilling to entertain the teasing remark when he knows it’d only lead to a brotherly jab—as it often does nowadays. He gives a gentle shove when Tommy only insists, currently more concerned with the sudoku game on his phone, but really Simon should know better by now, especially now, that Tommy will eventually, inevitably get his point across.

“Think they’ll let you back on base with that rat’s nest on your head?”

“Bugger off,” Simon grumbles. Tommy only doubles his efforts by draping all his weight over his brother. Simon rolls his eyes. “Think Beth’ll let you back in the house if I tell her about that time you—“

“Hey,” Tommy hisses, pushing away before gently smacking Simon upside the head, “shut your cake hole, it was one time.”

“How you’ve only managed to do it only once is beyond me,” says Simon flatly. He gets another row filled of his puzzle. “A miracle, really. Knowing you.”

“Dickhead,” Tommy retorts.

“Twat.”

Tommy snorts. “Really should cut it, though. Looks a mess. ‘M sure Beth could help.”

Simon shakes his head. “I’ll just buzz it. Save her the hassle,” he grunts.

Though he can’t see it, he can sense the way Tommy throws his arms up in surrender. It’s obvious his insults have been made, if not by the sudden willful silence, but his footsteps as he wanders out of the kitchen. He’d been right, unfortunately, about Simon’s hair, but they’re well past the days of allowing each other the small victories.

Which is a good thing, Simon supposes. Knows.

He’s thankful Tommy’s left the space so he couldn’t see the stupid smile that appears on Simon’s face, before he runs a hand through his overgrown hair and lets it fall just in case Tommy were to come wandering back with something new to pick on.

//

“Your hair’s gettin’ a bit long, Simon.”

Simon resists the urge to roll his eyes when he feels Johnny’s fingers card through his admittedly too-long hair, suppressing the sigh that rises from his lungs when the sergeant continues to linger.

“I’m aware,” Simon says instead. “Is that all you needed to say, MacTavish?”

He feels Johnny’s shrug. “Looks nice. Might need a brush after being under the mask, but.”

Simon tilts his head back, inadvertently leaning into Johnny’s touch. Perhaps the vulnerability of his bare face had him on edge, guarded for insult like he used to be with Tommy, but the soft look on Johnny’s face has the sigh finally escaping him, the tension in his shoulders gradually releasing.

“Yeah?”

Johnny nods. “Mhm. But if you want it cut, I’ll help you buzz it. Know bothers you.”

Simon hums. “Maybe. Might wait a bit longer.”

“That right?”

“Sure, Johnny.”

Johnny laughs softly, gently scratching at Simon’s scalp before he retracts his hand. His touch lasts well after he’s left, a warmth that spreads through Simon’s body like every other time they’ve made contact—even if he’d never tell Johnny that.

He may just take him up on his offer of help, however.

This time, he doesn’t bother trying to mask his smile.

[soranker]

KNIVES!!!

[dgalerab]

aizawa: this better not awaken anything in me