#These boys are unhinged
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You can tell it’s a flashback because everyone is missing at least one piece of equipment, lmaooooo. (Mina is missing her breast plate, Denki his hat, Kacchan his cape, and Izuku his hat and cloak.) It’s like when tv shows let you know something happened in the past by giving all the characters bangs.
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#skylldraws#Didn’t think I’d be drawing this bg again but then this au has been off the rails since the start lmao#The plan is minimal fam I’m going where the wind takes me#(I do have an end in mind though and like major plot points i want to get to and such)#Anyway that full body of Mina took me tf out bc she is leaning slightly forward lolol#I’m so bad at anatomy but I swear I’m studying and practicing and shit#I’m just dumb!#But I try#Always try!#Tddk#tododeku#todoroki x midoriya#shouto x izuku#todoizu#tddk fanart#todoroki x deku#tddk vr au#Bnha#tdiz#quirkless au#quirkless midoriya izuku#izushou#tddk comic#Bnha fantasy au#tddk fantasy au#Bnha vr au#Tw eyes#putting that just in case cause Bakugou does have his finger in Midoriya’s eyelid and I can see how that could bother some people#These boys are unhinged
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gege gave him those eyes and those lashes and then went: why are people obsessed with him????
#buddy you brought this on yourself#anyway heeeeee <3 my favourite unhinged pretty boy plus shoko 🕶️#jujutsu kaisen#jjkedit#jjk#jjk season 2#gojo satoru#shoko ieri
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SLYTHERINSLUT0’S RIDDLEMAS
dec 10th. tom riddle — oral sex, experienced!tom.
RIDDLEMAS MASTERLIST. I 2024
summary: your ex couldn’t make you orgasm, so you were certain you were broken. tom shows you just how wrong you are.
warnings: 18+, SMUTTT MDNI, tom riddle can eat me aliv—sorry who tf said that?, tom riddle is such a realist; he sees a problem and he finds a solution, tom is a munch, praise kink, oral f!receiving, experienced tom, hufflepuff!reader.
Months pass, and your project remains the only thing Tom ever prioritizes when it's you asking.
Progress is slow—slow because you're usually far too busy talking to actually focus—yet, he always stays. He listens, even when the things you say should bore him, even when they mean nothing at all. He sits there—giving you hardly the barest scraps of himself in return as you fill the space between you with everything that crosses your mind.
Things he'd never waste a second hearing from anyone else.
And tonight, to no-one's surprise, you're doing it again—rambling on about nothing and everything all at once. You've got this way of talking—weaving tangents into something almost poetic, and usually, he lets it fade into the background as he works. You're saying something about the differences between the seasons, or maybe it's just some other kind of sentimental nonsense—at this point, he's not entirely sure.
It's easy to tune out. He tells himself he's not really listening.
Until—
"Actually, I guess I should clarify that—it's all hypothetical. I don't date," he doesn't know what you said before this, but he's certainly intrigued by it now. "And really, it has nothing to do with like, self esteem or anything, I'm just broken. Best to save someone the trouble."
That stops him cold. It's not so much the declaration that you don't date—he could have guessed that himself—but more so the way you've just called yourself broken.
It's not a word he's ever heard you use before.
"What do you mean, broken?" He asks, the question coming out far more blunt than he probably intended.
It just seems so out of character for you—you've always been an optimist, far too annoyingly positive to speak of anything this way. He blinks when you freeze, and blinks again when a moment of self consciousness seems to pass over your face—and he notes how that's a first for you, too.
"Broken...as in, uh, not normal," your eyes flit down to your lap, tracing the wood beneath where you're seated on the floor in his dorm. "My ex made that very clear in his assessment of me."
The mention of an ex is something he'd been anticipating—you're in your twenties, after all—but it's the idea that your ex is the source of you calling yourself broken, that he can't quite swallow.
"You're 'broken' because of one ex?" He says, and he can't stop how derisive and skeptical his voice sounds. He doesn't care to try. "I'm not following."
"I'm what you'd call, damaged goods, I think," you murmur, and there's an almost self-deprecating smirk on your face. He can't help but think how he's never seen that look on you, either. "I've got a slew of unhealthy baggage that comes along with me. You know, childhood traumas, abandonment issues, daddy issues—"
He snorts at that—daddy issues—and your head snaps up, smirk deepening despite yourself.
"Don't snort at my daddy issues," you huff, and there's a familiar annoyance in your voice that puts him at ease. "They're valid and real."
"I'm not denying their validity," he counters, his own smirk beginning to surface. "But daddy issues? Come on. You're not some tired cliché ripped out of a teenage romance novel. I refuse to accept your declaration of brokenness until you give me factual reasoning."
You laugh at that—alive and genuine—and for a moment, he's reminded of why he even tolerates you in his space at all.
"Fine," you cross your arms over your chest. "What do you want to know then?"
He makes a low, contemplative sound at that—because there's a million questions that come to mind with the words damaged goods—and after a moment, he settles on the one that falls out first.
"What is it, precisely, that makes you broken?"
You sigh, a bit theatrically—he knows you're just putting on a show and he wants to laugh at you for it—but he reigns that in, for now, while you figure out how you're going to respond to that.
The truth is, you don't know how to tell him the real reason you're broken—the part that has nothing to do with the laundry list of emotional baggage you could rattle off with ease. It's something...different.
Something more physical.
"I don't know, okay?" You're getting defensive. You're not sure why but you are. "Just—forget I said anything. We have this assignment to—"
"You dodging the question tells me it's more than just psychological," he cuts you off, leaning back into the couch. The way he's looking at you makes it clear—there's no way he's letting this go. "You getting defensive tells me you're embarrassed by it."
You sigh again, leaning back on your palms to mirror his body language, though it doesn't feel half as natural on you as it does on him.
"And you, being an insufferable arse, is telling me I never should have mentioned it in the first place."
His smirk at that makes you want to glare at him.
"Stop dodging," he says. "You brought it up. You don't get to take it back."
It's a challenge—the gleam in his eyes is practically screaming so. You're not sure why the sight of it makes something low in your stomach clench, and you're even less sure of why you want to tell him something like this—something you haven't told anyone else—not friends, certainly not family.
Whatever the reasoning, you can feel yourself relent.
"Maybe," you pause, the look on his face makes you second guess yourself. "...maybe I don't want to tell you because I'm afraid you'll look at me differently." You glance down at your lap, fingers twitching against the yellow pleats of your skirt before finally meeting his eyes again. "And I kind of like the way you look at me now."
Something like curiosity passes over his expression at that—but it's quickly hidden by the type of skepticism that tells you he still doesn't believe you're being serious.
"You're overthinking it," he replies, unmoving. "Whatever it is you think you're going to tell me, I'm not going to look at you differently. You're still you—no filter, unabashedly verbal—"
"Too verbal. Too positive, too loud," you finish his sentence for him—because you know that's how he thinks of you. "Too annoyingly optimistic. Far too hufflepuff for your cold snake skin. I know."
"Exactly," he says, tongue running over his bottom lip in attempt to quell his smirk. "So I reiterate. There's nothing you could tell me that would change that."
"Fine," you relent, giving in begrudgingly because you know there's no other option. "But don't say I didn't warn you."
He just lifts a hand at that, as if to say; whatever you think it is, I can handle it. The action makes you suck a breath into your lungs, trapping it there.
"You're right," you say after a long exhale. "I have a slew of psychological bullshit that would take the span of a year for me to fully go over in one sitting—but, I'm fine with it. That's...that's not the thing that made me call myself broken."
He says nothing, just makes a motion with his eyes for you to keep going.
"It's, uhm...physical." You whisper, and your brain is moving too much and too fast and you're not even completely sure how to say it without sounding insane. "And...I don't know, I just...I can't orgasm. No matter what. I just can't—it's frustrating and embarrassing and it's the reason my ex ended things."
There's a silence that follows, and he knows if it were anyone else, they'd probably find a way to comfort you. Reassure you. Tom, however, isn't anyone else—
"You're joking," he says, and his tone is incredulous again.
A self-depreciating laugh leaves your lips involuntarily, the sound of it making you almost want to cringe.
"Would it be less embarrassing if I was?"
He's still just watching you, dissecting your words as if waiting for you to crack a smile and confess this was all some stupid joke—and the vulnerability of it aches like a stab to the gut.
"This is the reason you think you're broken?" Is what he goes with when he finally realizes you're being serious. "Because you haven’t orgasmed?"
The bluntness of it makes you flush, makes you wish you could sink into the floor. "I know it's not normal, okay—"
"It's not an abnormality, either," he asserts, with casualty. "You might just have a disconnect."
You blink, caught off guard—not just by his choice of words, but by how matter-of-fact he sounds, like this isn't the mortifying confession it feels like.
"A disconnect?"
"A disconnect," he repeats, looking you over, something clinical slipping into his eyes. "Between mind and body. And considering how loud your thoughts are—"
"Hey—" you snap, suddenly feeling a bit indignant, but he just continues on.
"—it's not surprising that you can't get out of your own head."
You open your mouth to argue, to tell him he's not a therapist, so what the hell does he know? But the certainty in his expression makes you pause. He doesn't look patronizing or condescending, just...assured. Like he knows exactly what he's talking about.
You hesitate, lips parting, a protest forming on your tongue. Before you can say anything, though, he raises a hand to stop you.
"Come here," he says, standing up from the couch.
You blink, trying to decipher what the hell he's implying—because if anything, the last thing that's going to make you less paranoid about intimacy is proximity.
"What?"
He just looks at you, making a motion with two fingers, beckoning you to stand.
"Don't ask questions. Just come here."
It's an order, and it makes your spine tingle in a way that's definitely not comfortable—but you get up from the floor, and move closer to him anyway, closing the distance between you with only a few steps until you're close enough to him that you can practically feel the heat that seems to come off him in waves.
It's weird—he's suddenly too much all at once—you're so much more aware of him being in front of you than you think you've ever been before and it does not help that he's just looking at you—as if studying you—blinking only once as he raises those same two fingers to your neck, resting them against the pulse point at your throat.
Your entire body tenses. His touch is far more gentle than you ever imagined it being, something disarming that makes your pulse beat faster against his fingers as a result—and because this is Tom, with all his smug and certainty—he gives you a look that tells you he can feel it before he slides his fingers up to rest on your forehead.
You scowl at the motion, but he clicks his tongue, the sound as condescending as it is amused.
"I told you, you're an overthinker." He murmurs, eyes dipping to your lips. "Too much noise."
You want to refute that—mostly because you're not overthinking, you can't be—he's just so unequivocally overwhelming—
"I'm not—"
You start, but he moves his fingers from your forehead and places them against your lips—
"Quiet." He scolds, and that makes something low in your stomach clench. "Your body knows what to do. You're just letting your thoughts get in the way."
You long to protest again, just for the sake of defiance—but then his fingers are against your collarbone, and that motion in your stomach becomes a bit more of a squirm—
"Your body is trying to tell you something," he whispers, watching each little hitch in your breath. "But you're too busy talking over it to hear what it's saying."
You realize—with a sort of horror that's laced with something a little more uncomfortable—that he's right. Your body is trying to say something. It's communicating through the unsteady force of your breaths, through the clench of your fists against your skirt—
Of course, he notices. He's noticing far too much.
"Relax," he murmurs, and now he's trailing those same two fingers in an unhurried path down your shoulder. You suddenly regret every decision that led to you wearing a T-shirt. "I'm not going to bite you."
Something about the way he says it makes you wish he wasn't quite so convincing—the familiar banter you long for gone with the sharp exhale that comes out of your mouth as his fingers encircle your wrist—
"Your pulse is racing," he says casually, far too casually for how much effort it's taking you not to scream. "Does that seem broken to you?"
Gods—you want to respond—you really, really do— but your thoughts flatline when you realize his touch has shifted. He's no longer just holding your wrist; he's guiding your hands to rest against his chest, and—
"There you go," he whispers, and the tone of it tells you he knows exactly what it is he's doing to you. "See? Your body's doing exactly what it's meant to do. You—" his fingers trail up your arms, and his voice gets lower. "—are not broken."
You swallow hard, acutely aware of your hands on his chest and the way your palms are clammy against the fabric of his shirt. He's shifting you now, deliberately crowding you, and it's only when you feel the edge of the couch press against the back of your calves that you realize—perhaps a second too late—exactly what it is he's doing.
You stumble back onto the leather, and he follows—crushing his lips to yours.
You gasp, startled, because despite everything you truly hadn't seen this coming. The kiss is messy, clumsy, and his hand finds the nape of your neck, tugging at your hair with just enough force to make it sting. And inevitably, when you gasp again, he takes it as an invitation to work his tongue into your mouth, other hand slipping under your shirt—trailing up your stomach.
You're trembling now, and he makes a low sound at the realization. Your brain is racing to catch up, and the irony of this isn't lost on you—he'd just claimed you weren't broken, but he might as well be destroying you himself.
He parts from your lips only to trail his own across your jaw—
"You're shaking," he murmurs with a smirk against your throat—as if he's taking immense pleasure in the fact—you hate how smug it makes him sound. "Do you want me to stop?"
You want to tell him he's being a bastard, but then his lips press to that spot on your neck—the one that makes your breath hitch and your pulse stutter—and you find yourself whimpering at the sensation.
"No," you breathe, and you'd be embarrassed by the pleading tone in your voice if you weren't so lost in the moment. "Don't stop."
He makes another low, satisfied noise at that.
"Good," he whispers. "No thinking. Just feel."
You swallow—throat dry. It's unfair how easily he's dismantling you with nothing but his mouth and hands. Unfair how he's leaving you breathless and unraveling while somehow making you feel seen in a way you can't explain, even with your eyes shut.
"Tom," you find yourself whimpering, and you aren't even sure what you're asking for—you just know you want more as his lips trail lower—as his fingers work to tug down your skirt. "Gods."
"Shh. Feel me," he murmurs, almost possessively, his lips brushing lower, grazing over your stomach, then your pelvis. "Let your body do the talking."
You've got your hands tangled in his hair before you even know what you're doing, and you hate the fact that you're pretty sure you'd melt into a puddle if he weren't holding you together.
"I feel you," you whimper as he kisses lower. "You're all I feel."
He makes another low sound at that, and you just know it's the response of ‘yeah, that’s right’—but then he's between your legs, panties shifted out of the way, and the first sweep of his tongue against your clit makes all coherent thought shift to static.
"Oh! God," you gasp, the word barely escaping before dissolving into a whimper when he does something with his tongue that makes your vision blur. "Tom—oh, fuck."
He just makes that smug, satisfied noise against you again before his tongue swirls over your clit and you find yourself almost cursing whatever deity made him so good at this, because it's not fair how quickly he reduced you to a whimpering, shaking mess beneath him and—
"Don't stop," you find yourself babbling, digging your nails into his scalp and knowing you look like a goddamn wreck as he makes a meal out of you—tongue lapping up your slick and swirling your clit before sealing his lips around it and forcing your back off the leather beneath it. "Please, don't stop, please—"
It's all you can manage to say. Your thighs are shaking now, and you're sure he's got you dripping all over his face with how soaked you are. He knows you're falling apart and he just keeps going— your brain ceasing function in favour of just focusing on how fucking close you are—how close you are to something you've never felt before in your life—and you're not even sure what you're begging for anymore but it's incoherent and loud—
"I need—" you whimper, your hands tightening in his hair, pulling just enough to make him groan against you. You don't know what you're asking for, but you know he has it. "I need—I need—“
"Let go," he murmurs against you, the roughness in it vibrating up into your belly. "I dare you."
There's still a little bit of you functioning on autopilot, just enough to tell you that when he murmurs those words—vibrations rattling up your cunt and into your chest—you're completely done for.
It’s merely a few seconds later that your high reaches its peak and he just keeps lapping as you shake apart beneath him with an intensity you've never felt before in your life—orgasm shredding you apart at the seams. Your thighs clamp around his face, your eyes squeezed shut, ears ringing so loud you barely register his low, muttered praises: "good girl," "so good," "there you go."
You’re fairly positive your legs will never be able to support you again when you finally come back down, feeling entirely like jelly as he pulls back, tongue flicking over his lips to clean off whatever's left of you.
And without thinking, you grab him and pull him up, crashing your lips against his in a messy, desperate kiss. He tastes like you, like him, like something you can't quite describe—and it makes everything feel intense and unbearably real all at once.
He gives you a moment, as if letting you recover, just languidly kissing you back—and you have to be honest with yourself and admit that this kind of makes you want to scream.
"A disconnect," he smirks against your mouth, the tone still smug. You manage a weak smack to his shoulder, though it does nothing to wipe the satisfaction off his face. "Still sure you're broken?"
You hate that he's right. Hate that he's managed to pull a reaction from you that you didn't think was possible. But as you sit there, shaky and spent, you know you can't deny the truth: no, you're not broken.
"Not broken." You whisper back. "You will be though, if you don't stop smirking at me like that."
#SLYTHERINSLUT0’S RIDDLEMAS❄️#oh daddy riddle. whence shall it be my turn#this is the type of tom i would take the frontlines for#alongside lucius we shall fight to the death#sorry for being unhinged as fuck#goodbye#tom riddle#harry potter#tom riddle smut#tom riddle x reader#tomriddle smut#tomriddlesmut#slytherin boys#tomriddlexreader#tom x reader#tom riddle x oc#tom smut#hufflepuff reader#hufflepuff#slytherin boys x reader#slytherinboys#slytherin#tom riddle x you#tomriddle x you#tomriddle x reader#tomriddle#theo riddle#riddle smut#riddle brothers#tom marvolo riddle
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Keigo is perched on Mr. Endeavor’s shoulders as they walk in. His little wings are flapping happily behind him, taking in all the sights and smells and sounds. He can smell meat cooking, the sound of it sizzling on an open grill. “—it’s cause you’re a girl,” Touya is huffing at Fuyumi, who just blinks at him. They’ve been bickering for awhile. This morning the three of them had been playing outside, until Touya had found a nest of ladybugs in one of the trees. Touya had immediately found it fascinating, while Fuyumi had found it gross. “They’re bugs!” Fuyumi frowns. “They’re gross for everyone, you’re just weird!” “You’re stupid!” “Yeah, well Keigo thinks they’re gross too!” Fuyumi huffs, which makes Keigo’s eyes immediately widen. “What! No he doesn’t!” Touya huffs. He and Fuyumi both glance up at Keigo. “Right Keigo?” Keigo’s wings flutter. He feels his cheeks warm and his eyes widen. He opens his mouth to be doomed either way between betraying Fuyumi or Touya (because really they were kinda gross, they were everywhere and made a lot of noise) when he gasps as he sees a server bring out a delicious smelling meal that has big round fluffy circles and strips of different kinds of brown meat. “Mr. Endeavor, look!” Keigo says, his wings flapping as if to try to get higher up to see more. Mr. Endeavor puts his big hands on Keigo’s legs to make sure he doesn’t actually fly off his shoulders, considering Keigo can’t really hold his own weight in the air yet. “That’s a Western style breakfast,” Mr. Endeavor says. “Pancakes and bacon, I believe. You can order some, if you want to try it.” And Fuyumi and Touya are thoroughly distracted now and forget about the ladybugs. So it’s a win in Keigo’s book.
From Time's Arrow
Synopsis: Hawks gets sent on a mission to go back in time to stop Dabi from becoming a villain. Hawks takes the opportunity to fix the whole Todoroki family and give his younger self the life he’s always deserved.
Art by @beachbeibi <3
#times arrow#dabihawks#fanfic#beachbeibi#touya todoroki#mha hawks#endeavor#enji todoroki#natsuo looks so unhinged bc his quirk just came in and he's like I AM A GOD and we love our lil frosty boy
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I imagine me at the table is exactly how Riz was at the party, just sitting in the corner having no fun being like “….what did we miss.”
Murph literally just being Riz is my favourite thing so I had to do a screenshot redraw of this moment from the adventuring party 🎉
#quiet before the storm. literally#anyway I’m obsessed with him never clocking off#he is always switched on. no days off no downtime no fun#unhinged boy.#dimension 20#d20#fantasy high#dimension 20 fantasy high#fantasy hugh junior year#fhjy#riz gukgak
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Obsessed with the degrees to which james wilson is a messy bitch. Primps and preens himself whenever he realises his boy best friend is stalking / sabotaging / psychological-warfare-ing him. Slept with his terminal patient. Immedicable people pleaser. Chronic adulterer. Three ex wives. PROPOSED TO HIS GIRLFRIEND AT SOMEONE ELSE'S WEDDING? Fuck you doin in the oncology wing my boy. Psychiatric ward is on the left corner
#Soooooooooooo obsessed about him becos you see him and youre like “oh houses responsible friend who exasperatedly keeps him in check...”#Like resident pretty boy heart of gold heartthrob with an inclination to taking care of his poor tortured friend#Like as run of the mill as you can get#Then six seasons theyre stringing each other up in booby traps in their shared domestic apartment. Girl what the fuck#Like james wilson is not crazier than house i wld say but like 2me. Its not even something thats quantifiable#theyre so wildly unhinged in different ways#ITS SO CRAZY.................... BY BEING TOGETHER THEY MAKE THEMSELVES THE WORST AND BEST VERSIONS OF THEMSELVES ITS CRAZY#So many thots abt them........ going2 spend the rest of my life trying 2 get them down on paper#gregory house#james wilson#hilson#house md#johan being crazy about yaoi md
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ᴡʙᴋ 152 | ꜱᴀᴋᴜʀᴀ ʜᴀʀᴜᴋᴀ
#wind breaker#wbk#wind breaker spoilers#wbk spoilers#wbk 152#wbk sakura#sakura haruka#haruka sakura#wbkedit#windbreakeredit#wind breaker edit#wbk manga#winbre#wind breaker manga#wbk graphics#wind breaker graphics#wind breaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker officail#wbk official#my edits#nanaqueue(♡´͈༝`͈)ฅ˒˒#bby boy is confused worried scared the whole time :'(#he really listened to endo's love problems lmao#u still hurt bofurin endo be gay be happy but you must pay for your crimes asdfghjkl#really looking forward to the conclusion of this arc#sakura has grown so much i wonder how he and ume's talk gonna be#is he scared he'll lose the umemiya he knows and admire? no bb that's part of umemiya he just unhinged when they hurt ppl precious to him
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Danny fake guardian angel au
You know how sometimes it’s highlighted how you have to be very careful on what you say in the presence of a spirit because they can twist your words and end up bidding yourself to it?? well uno-reverse-card the spirit also has to be careful on what he says because when Danny had said he owed the dude one for coming to his rescue in a gala Vlad had dragged him to, he didn’t expect that to be taken literally.
danny: wait seriously?? i literally say that all the time!
cw: not after being crowned ghost king, you haven’t
danny: but—but I was also human when I said it. doesn’t that protect me or smth
cw: *shakes his head*
danny:
danny: omg this is a nightmare
cue timmy’s brucequest period (cuz he’s the guy) being so high strung and tired, he just wants some company, which is a so low stakes thing to want the deal Danny unintentionally goes sure we can do that and pulls him towards the guy, despite Timmy never outright saying he wants company. (tim always speaks in the sanctity of his own mind, not out loud)
So. random spirit manifesting. Tim going all who the fuck are u
and Danny panicking and saying your guardian angel
Tim not being impressed while Danny promptly blushes like a moron because that did not come off as he wanted it to.
Yes accidental dead tired where the dynamic goes from Tim trying to shake this probably demon that somehow latched to him being all like ??? dude leave me alone, and Danny being there like bitch i’m trying
to
huh. im actually being protected by a spirit like he said he would. he’s strangely an idiot but also he’s overpowered and just never leaves my side which he says it’s an angel obligation but I think it’s bullshit but also hoping it’s not because it appeals to my crippling fear of abandonment (anyways he really seems to take after those little cartoon angels that poof into your shoulder to keep from me doing wrong decisions) translate into my future boyfriend seems increasingly appalled to what i am up to
meanwhile danny
Bitch you better thank your god I’m dead because otherwise I would already been killed. I did not sign up for a assassins what the fuck I thought you were a normal civilian not a literal superhero and omg that is a fruitloop. no no back off you wrinkly raisin this is my emotional support idiot you can’t have him and what do you mean you’re messing with time whatever this way I can get back to clockwork—
#danny fenton#danny phantom#tim drake#dp x dc#batman#dc#dp x dc prompt#Danny’s obsession in this au is space not protection#but#just danny saying uh yeah sure I’m your guardian angel and having to commit to the bit#seeing this tired competent idiot and going sure i can protect him#not knowing tim is literal go big or go home in his increasingly unhinged fourty step plan#danny: i did not sign up for this#tim: literally leave I don’t care#(they say)#(they got attached)#it’s so interesting to me because danny could’ve just duplicated and be invisible the whole time#it would take lots of energy but the deal was literally to just be company#be a presence#danny was the idiot that went yeah uh im a protector spirit#so uh imma protect u#tim at first: sounds fake but okay#also ANGST potential at first if Tim finds out Danny is stuck with him against his will#like this is my precious prettiest boy that is insecure that out of all the Robins he wasn’t chosen#so that is like a sore spot for him#he could find out Danny is stuck and out of spite lead a side mission to help him get rid of him#even if the feelings are already there😔#dead tired
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always struggling between complete disgust for men or disgustingly infatuated with the male species. god what’s wrong with me ?
#manic pixie dream girl#unhinged women#im just a girl#female hysteria#girl interrupted#girlblog#this is what makes us girls#femcel#female manipulator#children of cain#girlblogging#gaslight gatekeep girlboss#girl boss gaslight gatekeep#female insanity#cinnamon girl#alana champion#girl interupted syndrome#possession#possession 1981#boy parts#female rage#lizzy grant
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valentines newsletter ???? ?? HELLO ???????? ?????? ? ????
#deltarune#rouxls kaard#queen#queenkaard#art#doodles#comic#dude hes so fucking lonely and desperate oh my god. why is that becoming less and less of a joke#SIR this is a WENDYS#LOSER BOY !!!!!!!! LOSER. i lov you. you are so fucked up and strange and unhinged. what is wrong with you#i need ch3 and 4 right now i need to see if they love and or hate each other. i need to see more of whatever is happening here#yeah queens has personalized pens that have her face on them. what ruler doesn't#anyway#go in there#go in the dark#i mean the box
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SEB ily but do you really want me to answer that
#choir boy rlly expected me to choose him over the unhinged babygirl man#dragon age 2#da2#hawke#anders#sebastian vael#da2 hawke#da2 anders#dragon age hawke#dragon age anders#handers#da2 art#dragon age art#dragon age fanart#fanart#original art#artist on tumblr#calicoart#digital art#digital comic#my art#art#dragon age#paint tool sai#artist#artwork#Rogue Hawke#daocart
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Yandere! Damian x Danny
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The Al Ghul’s did not believe in love.
In strength, intelligence, in power — always.
But love is a word, a title to use, to manipulate and create whatever they wished from another.
This is a fact: the Al Ghul’s did not believe in love, nor did they feel it.
But Damian thinks that perhaps this is close to it. This funny little feeling in his chest that burns and aches in a way that leaves him breathless. That funny little feeling in his bones that itches to hold Daniel close until he is rooted into his shape and scent. That funny little feeling in his throat that wanted to bite Daniel until only the scars of his teeth remained and Daniel’s blood spilled and stained with life turned cold.
Damian knows this is love, because what else is this need to possess and hold, and tear every other inch of Daniel apart from this world and make him his own?
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dc x dp#dcxdp#danny phantom#danny fenton#dp x dc crossover#batman#dp x dc prompt#Damian x Danny#yandere damian wayne#Damian loves his boy failure#Danny is literally just some guy#but with some ghost#not that Damian or anyone else knows.#The batfam are HIGH KEY concerned#they want to separate Damian and Danny#but Damian had already tried to amputate Dick’s legs when he suggested it#Damian: you will live if not crawl#Damian is an unhinged boy#he has not had the best influence when it comes to relationships#even with the Batfam and Bruce Damian still takes que from what the Al Ghul’s do#he will either marry Danny or lock him up in a basement#dead serious
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anyway i want to reiterate that i hope the rat grinders are tpk'd, revived and uncorrupted solely bc i want them to have to spend senior year together. 'redeemed' doesnt necessarily mean friendly with the bad kids and honestly? its so much funnier if they continue being bitchy to each other but without the trying to end the world stuff. they've built plenty of positive relationships w/ former villains now it's time for the next stage: uneasy alliance buzzing with the tension of both sides trying to hold back the urge to clown on each other
introducing, fantasy high senior year: the group project
#look me in my eyes. see my vision#kipperlilly and riz working on a case and kipperlilly watching the unhinged construction of one of his conspiracy boards#oisin and adaine casting a spell together trading barbs ab oracles and nepo babies between stacks of books#reuban and fig. well. thank god fig's dropping out bc that dynamic is unsalvageable now. i support her in everything she did but its Over#gorgug repairing maryann's quirky pet tamagochi for her w/ his artificer skills#fabian trying to curse his bardic inspiration to ivy after she makes a snide comment about mazey#buddy and kristen finally having that heart-to-heart kristen's been itching for all season. buddy doesnt convert but they understand better#the only ppl i want on genuinely good terms are buddy and kristen bc it makes sense for them and also bc its so funny#“we hate their pussy. except buddy that's my boy”#the dynamic of liking (1) guy in a friend group you otherwise hate is so primed for comedy. buddy invites her to trgs gc and gets yelled at#fantasy high#fantasy high junior year#dimension 20
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"Please stop asking how I got in here," the white haired kid said, annoyance laced in his voice, "All I want to know is if any of you can do detective work in the supernatural world!"
Constantine just barely opened his mouth before the kid turned on him, "Not you! You have terrible reviews!"
Bruce tensed as Lazarus green eyes locked on him, "How about you? You're the worlds greatest detective, right? I know you probably won't take gold as payment since Bruce Wayne is your sugar daddy, but I can offer up information on the Infinite Realms instead!"
Batman, calm and collected even as Green Arrow and Flash snickered from across the room, "Infinite Realms?"
Phantom grinned, "Is that an agreement? Cause Prince Psaro could really use your help. He has so many questions, and the answers may save his life. You want to save the life of a teenage boy surrounded by demons and monsters, don't you?"
Bruce stared at the teen, not looking away even with Constantine motioning not to agree, Bruce nodded.
And in a moment, they were gone. They reappeared in a grand hall with a ruby eyed teenager looking impossibly small from his place on the massive throne. Silver hair shined oddly in the light of the purples flames that danced in the sconces, making the boy seem more ethereal.
"Hey Psaro!" The white haired kid from before greeted, "I brought you a detective like you asked. Don't forget you have to teach me magic now!" The first teen vanished without a trace leaving Batman and what he now recognized as an angsty goth alone together.
As it turns out Psaro had many questions and offered to pay him a generous amount in gold each day.
Some of his questions include:
What kingdom was my human mother a princess of?
Why can't I remember key information from my childhood, such as my brothers very existence?
I was framed for the murder of all of the "Chosen Heros" loved ones. How do I prove im innocent before he comes to take off my head?
Why do Rose's tears shatter?
Is there a way to stop his younger brother from destroying the world without caging him or killing him?
Ect.
Bruce has his work cut out for him, but between the mysterious white haired kid popping in now and then to give him cryptic conversations, the team on litteral monsters he was given to defend himself with, and his access to royal libraries and vaults this might not be so bad
#dpxdc#prompts#fanfiction prompts#bruce spends a lot of time with psaro before he learns that his mom is dead and his dad is essentially a supervillian dictator who disowned#him#new son#danny fenton#danny phantom#danny is in danger of adoption too and is a little unhinged since his own loved ones died and he became a wanderer#the jl back home are like: o-o hes gonna adopt that boy isnt he?#dragon quest#dragon quest monsters#dqm3#dqm3 spoilers#psaro#psaro the manslayer#psaro is not prepared to be daded#batman#bruce wayne#solo#dragon quest iv#dragon quest 4#kinda#im new to dq have mercy#solo (the hero) is not okay#no one in this is okay#so much potential for angst
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Man I love batshit insane Tim. Like completely unhinged, basically toeing the line of supervillainy Tim Drake.
This guy’s an absolute disaster of a human being, coming up with the most unnecessarily convoluted plots to get up to gremlin shenanigans.
He’s such a little gremlin in those instances that I just want to put him in my pocket
#tim drake#unhinged tim drake#feral tim drake#batman#batfam#dc#dc comics#robin#red robin#batfamily#my fav boy#love that little goblin
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[ID: the "you can excuse racism?" meme format. The first woman is labeled "Duke" and the words have been edited to say "I can excuse eight heads in a duffel bag but I draw the line at littering." The second woman is labeled "Nightwing" and the words have been edited to say "you can excuse eight heads in a duffel bag??" End ID]
#everyone who thinks Duke is some kinda shy soft guy who'd be intimidated by jason or something has no fucking idea what theyre talking about#Jason is DUKE'S emotional support sibling. and the emotion he supports IS in fact rage#everyone start writing Duke as weird and unhinged as the rest of the bats NEOW thats not a normal dude you guys just dont know shit abt him#duke thomas#the signal#jason todd#red hood#batfam#nightwing#dick grayson#duke thomas dc#signal dc#red hood dc#under the red hood#we are robin#boy wonder original#just added an image ID for anyone who needs one. let me know if it needs to be changed at all. not super accustomed to writing them
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