#WE WANT THAT SEQUEL!

[kaliyakarnage]

So, uh...anybody here, who wants to see that flashback from Silver's past, we would have gotten, if the Treasure Planet sequel had been realized? No? Just me? Okay.

I wanted to do that character concept of young adult John Silver since I knew about the cancelled sequel. But I always felt like I would not be able to do him justice, because he is not an easy-to-draw guy.

Then, a few days ago, I just grabbed a few ref pictures and started with sketching the images on the second picture. It took me quite a while to get a hang of his features, but in the end I really do like my design and I had so much fun drawing his different expressions <3

I imagined him to be in his early twenties, when he still had both of his eyes and all of his limbs. And before his girlfriend left him, which ultimately lead him to become the pirate we all know.

Damn, I love this dude so much...and I still want this frickin' sequel!! But even more I want to see a whole movie about his past. That would be so intriguing and awesome! OO

[zephyrchama]

Belphegor followed you down the hall as you dragged your suitcase. It wasn’t very big, but it was still heavy and annoying to lug over the thick decorative carpets. Every time one came to an end, the luggage thudded loudly back onto the hardwood floor.

“You sure you have everything? You packed the pillow I gave you?” Belphegor sluggishly matched his pace to yours. Having long legs must be nice.

“Of course, I triple checked.” ”Good. That’s my fifth favorite pillow, so you have to come back and return it, ok?”

You nodded as the suitcase went over another bump. This was your third time going over this exact conversation.

It wasn’t just the youngest, all of the brothers were antsy about your little trip. It was written all over their faces as you arrived at the foyer where they were waiting. Satan and Asmodeus solemnly stood up from the steps they were sitting on. Mammon and Leviathan had a hard time looking at you, their eyes darted all over the walls and ceiling. Beelzebub offered to move your suitcase by the door.

Just one weekend away. That was it. Solomon volunteered to take you back to the human world for a bit. You couldn't let a rare trip home pass by, as who knew when the next opportunity would arise. You could eat some normal food for once and stock up on your favorite human things. Though, your housemates reacted like you were leaving for a year.

“Did you pack everything?” Lucifer asked.

“Of course, I triple checked.” Deja-vu.

“Even the lotion I gave you?” Asmodeus looked so worried. He loosely took hold of your forearm with a tear in his eye. “Don’t forget, the sun is awful this time of year. I’ll never forgive you if you come back looking like a lobster.”

“Asmo, I won’t.” You grinned at his silly concern and leaned in for a hug. Asmodeus did not disappoint.

Everyone else took a step forward, hoping for a hug of their own, as Asmodeus breathed into your ear, “I’ll be waiting.”

“You have my number. If anything goes wrong, call me.” Lucifer sounded so reliable as he placed a hand on your shoulder.

There were half a dozen chimes of “mine, too!” and “same here!”

You’d been away for longer trips. How in the world did these guys survive for so many millennia before you met them? You turned to look at Lucifer, wanting to counter that Devildom phones didn’t even work in the human world, but he probably knew that already.

"Don't talk to strangers," he reminded, "and don't go out alone at night. Some humans are worse than demons." He wrapped his arms around you and wished “safe travels.”

Mammon stepped up next. He forced himself to stare at you, haughtily playing off the sadness he was really feeling. His bottom lip jutted out a little more than usual. “Well! You’ll bring me back a good souvenir, right?”

“Oh? I don’t know, I might not have time…” It was playful banter, yet your words shocked him. Mammon’s eyes widened. He began stammering and gripped your fingers. You quickly performed damage control, “Joking! I’m joking, Mammon. Of course I’ll get you a souvenir.”

The younger siblings piped up, “us too!”

“I’m getting everyone souvenirs, don’t worry!” You already had a few gift ideas in mind.

Mammon put his forehead on your shoulder and a hand on your back that he rubbed. “But mine’ll be the best. I trust ya.”

“Don’t let Solomon give you any food he cooks,” Beelzebub warned. “Actually, don’t let Solomon give you any food. Ever.” He tried to give you a lumpy-looking cloth bag, no doubt filled with homemade treats to take with you. It smelled scrumptious. Only issue was, the bag was half your size.

“Beel, there’s food in the human world. I can’t take all this, why don’t you enjoy it with your brothers?”

Beelzebub frowned, setting aside his present. It tilted under the weight of its own contents. You felt a slight pang of guilt, but how could you carry it all? That much food could last you a week.

He picked you up for his hug, your toes dangling several inches off the floor until he gently set you back down. Belphegor caught you as you regained your footing.

His hug was simple and cozy. He tucked a strand of your hair behind an ear. “Don’t forget about my pillow.”

You suspected that if you ever actually tried to run away, these seven would go to the ends of the three realms to find you.

Satan nudged your luggage, observing the way it slided forward an inch. It was heavy to you, but clearly not them. “That’s really all you’re bringing? Do you have enough clothes?”

“Yes! You helped me pack!” The repetition was really starting to grate on you. Things were never this crazy when one of them had to leave the house for a few days. They wouldn't even care unless somebody went mysteriously unseen for over a week. “You all know I’ve got everything under control. I’ll be back in two days.”

“Hey, how come Satan got to help you pack?” Mammon complained.

“We did too,” Belphegor said, his twin in agreement.

“It was a group effort,” according to Asmodeus.

Mammon crossed his arms. "No way! You let these guys see your underwear?"

Satan ignored them. “Do you want another book for the road?”

“I’ll be fine.” You gave Satan his hug. After letting go, his fingers hovered by your side. “We’re teleporting there anyway. I don’t think there’ll be time to read anything.”

One suspiciously quiet demon in the back stared at the floor. “Two days,” he sighed. Leviathan did a poor job of hiding how upset he was.

“Levi, aren’t you going to say goodbye?”

“Yes!?” His head jerked up, met your gaze, and looked down again.

“I can’t leave until I get a full set of hugs from everyone,” you admitted. “I’m missing a very valuable part of the collection.”

Asmodeus and Mammon readily offered themselves for a second go. Leviathan’s cheeks flushed with envy and he grabbed you a little roughly, squishing his face into your shoulder. “You’ll take lots of pictures? A-and you won’t forget about us?”

You scoffed, “how could I forget about you? We’re bound together by a pact, aren’t we?” As for photos… you didn't know what would be interesting, but it couldn't hurt to take a bunch anyway.

Lucifer cleared his throat, signaling to Leviathan it was time to let go. "I miss you already," he muttered.

The seven of them followed you out of the house and down to the House of Lamentation’s front gate. It was like having a school of fish circling you. You could call it a miracle they weren't following you onto the main road, but if they went that far you knew they'd unreasonably demand Solomon take them along too.

“It’s just one weekend!” you reiterated. “Take care, you guys.”

They peered at you through the fence bars, waving when you glanced over. It was a sad sight, and possible attempt to make you come rushing back. If it was this bad already, you didn't want to think about how they'd act if you were going away for one week.

[simping-acefully]

"Better Luck Next Time"

Laios Touden/Reader Not poofread, I blacked out and this was on my phone notes. English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes No warnings 600 ish words?

You took out the small notebook out of your apron pocket and braced yourself to go to the table where your regulars had just taken a seat. You couldn't help but stare in spite of yourself. You were capable of appreciating a handsome face, and Laios was rather dashing. In fact, if he would slow down on his rambling, you'd almost want to ask him out. Almost.

There was a certain charm to him, he carried himself with grace and had gained a certain reputation over time- After all, the Touden siblings were an odd pair. You had served them before, they seemed nice enough. Decent tippers, polite. Almost too educated to be mere gold peelers. You had been tempted to ask, but everyone had their own reasons to enter the dungeon.

Now, in the perceived privacy of their table, Laios Touden was happily chatting his sister's ear off, talking about monsters and ghosts. Falin had a dopey grin on her face, matching her brother's energy effortlessly and adding observations of her own in regards to the nature of ghosts, unnerving the nearby patrons.

With an amused huff, you walked towards the oblivious troublemakers and interrupted them by clearing your throat and flashing them your best customer service smile. "Welcome to the Laughing Wolf, what can I get you?"

The knight seemed to jump within his armor seemingly taken completely off-guard by your presence- His posture shifted from relaxed to stiff, back straight as ramrod. The cleric, on the other hand, gave you a placid smile. "Ah, it's the Baraselia lady!"

You blinked owlishly at the bizarre nickname. "Pardon?"

Falin simply tilted her head and pointed at her own head, around the place where your updo was. Your hand reflexively reaches out to the side of your head, grazing the hairpin that held your bun together, and the flower charm that hung from it. "Is that what this is?"

The woman simply turned to look at her brother, your gaze shifted to follow hers. Poor Laios seemed to be shaking in his seat, face beet-red. "They are a… A plant in the dungeon. They trap things and use them as fertilizer and are strong enough to crush bone…"

"Huh?- Is that a good thing?" You took off the pin, hair cascading free as you brought the item in front of you and scrutinized the delicate ceramic flower charm. You hadn't given it much thought when you bought it, in all honesty. It just was a cute white flower with purple accents.

"Yes!" The knight startled you out of your trance with his zealous response. "It's beautiful and strong, and it's… It does- That is…"

You never thought you'd see the oldest Touden so flustered, much less when it came to talking the inhabitants of the dungeon. He was, after all, known to be enamoured by monsters and rather oblivious- To the point he would infodump any bystander that showed an iota of interest on monsters.

Your brow furrowed in concern. "Are you feeling okay? You look…off. Are you sick?" The thought made your chest tighten. These siblings were already wearing clothes in such a rough state, they didn't seem like they could afford proper medical care. "Hang on! I'll whip you up something."

And with that, you stormed away, slamming your little notebook shut and shoving it inside your apron's pocket.

Once you were out of sight, Laios' body slumped, not unlike a puppet getting its strings cut, face first into the table "Hnngg".

His frustrated (and rather pathetic) whine elicited a small chuckle from Falin, who gave her brother a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

[fckbatmanhiskidsareminenow]

What’s for Breakfast?

(yes it’s the parsnip fic)

(tw mentioned nightmares and mildly dissociation)

disclaimer: this will probably be ooc, i’m still extremely new to the fandom so be nice please

description: jason decides to cook and is interrupted by the rest of the bat siblings.

word count: 1556

All he came here to do was drop off some intel for Bruce but now? Now Jason is standing in the middle of the Wayne manor kitchen, with his hands on his hips, wondering what he should cook. He’s hungry, alright, sue him.

It’s Sunday and Sunday is the day Alfred restocks the kitchen so the chances of Jason actually finding something other than premade pancake mix was not great.

The first ingredient item he finds is a few parsnips. He passes one between his hands trying to think of what he can make with them. After a few seconds he comes up with something, tossing the parsnips onto the counter and he collects some onions, a leek, flour, eggs and vegetable oil. He gets the grater out and it’s decided. He’s gonna make parsnip and onion fritters.

Jason starts with slicing the onion. Just get that shit over and done with. The familiar burn of the onion begins in his eyes and he is immediately reminded of the last time he cooked in here. He was 15, it was a few weeks before his death. He and Alfred were making home made burgers, requested by Jason himself, and they made caramelised onions to go with it.

He’s pulled out of the memory by the wet feeling of tears dripping down onto his hand. He glares down at the vegetable as if it had personally wronged him. And you know what? It did. He’s crying all because of a fucking onion.

He continues slicing only slightly more aggressively when he hears a soft patter of feet.

“Todd?” At the sound of his name he looks up and is met with a sleepy Damian staring back. The kid’s got on a set of cat pyjamas, that Jason can admit is kinda cute, and is wiping away what looks to be tears. Must have had a nightmare or something.

“Cooking.” Jason replied gruffly. Damian approaches the island he’s cooking on and stands on his toes to try and see what Jason is cooking. Once again he can admit the kid looked kinda cute with only just his head and little hands poking over the bench.

“Cooking what?” He asks softly and with genuine childlike curiosity, which is rare for Damian. Jason breathes out a sigh and walks over to the small table on the far side of the kitchen and pulls a chair up against the bench.

“Parsnip and onion fritters. Wash your hands and come grate the parsnips for me.” He usually would tell him to fuck off but the kid looks like he could use a distraction and he does love a mission.

Damian washes his hands, climbs up the chair and starts grating.

They slice and grate mostly in quiet, only breaking the silence to quietly giggle at each other's onion induced tears.

“Cooking?” The sound of a voice startles them both so badly Damian almost throws a parsnip and Jason damn near cuts his finger off. When they look up at the source, Cass is standing there with an eyebrow raised.

“Christ, Cassandra, you could have killed us.” Damian says as he lowers the parsnip. Jason huffs out a laugh.

“Again.” He mutters and doesn’t miss the nasty look Damian throws him. Cass only smirks and shrugs. She looks dishevelled but Jason chooses to ignore it. She wanders over to the island, inspects what they’re doing before sitting on one of the stools and pulling her phone out of her pocket. Jason and Damian share a look before continuing what they were doing.

They finally get through all the slicing and grating when Steph and Tim stumble in looking like they had not slept all week. Jason stops what he’s doing just to look at them judgingly.

“Where the fuck have you two been?” he asks like he doesn’t want to know. Steph groans and collapses into the stool next to Cass.

“We were out all night for a stake out that turned up nothing.” Jason makes a confused face at that and looks to Tim who is all but dragging himself to the coffee machine.

“I don’t even want to talk about it.” He says holding a hand up to block out Jason’s judgmental look. Stake outs like that happen, not often but they happen. But for Tim? It’s even less often, he gathers all the intel he can before going out. Make sense for his mood to be shit.

Jason can practically sense Damian is about to say something so he scoops him up by the armpits and places him onto the ground.

“Your jobs done now.” He tells him before the kid can protest. He only receives a slightly grumpy nod before Damian drags the chair back to its regular spot and sits down. Tim looks away from the coffee machine.

“Are you making breakfast?” He asks half judgy half genuine. Jason almost responds with some snarky sarcasm but just looking at Tim tells him the poor guy's exhausted brain would probably melt if he did.

“Yeah I am. Parsnip and onion fritters.”

Steph lifts her head from where it was laying against the kitchen island.

“What the fuck is a parsnip?” Jason chuckles and holds up one of the unused parsnips.

“It's like a white carrot thing. They taste good, trust me.” Steph eyes it suspiciously before shrugging and laying her head back down.

Duke runs in while Jason is mixing in the flour and eggs. He stops and looks at everyone surprised. To Duke’s credit it is rare for all of them to be in the same room for a non vigilante related reason. He looks at Jason and into the bowl.

“Hey, that looks great! I’m heading out to patrol but save me some for when I get back?” He says as he grabs an apple and speeds out of the kitchen without waiting for an answer. Jason files the information to save some away in his head before he continues mixing. He makes sure everything is evenly coated before heating up a pan and drizzling some vegetable oil onto it. He places as many scoops as he can evenly spread on the pan and waits until he can flip them.

The sizzly of the fritters and the oil almost covers up the sound of a new pair of feet entering the kitchen.

“Whatchya making, Jaybird?” This time he doesn’t jump at the sound of Dick’s voice coming from directly over his shoulder. Just by looking at Dick’s eyes tells Jason the eldest is floating in between a dissociation episode. He’s not really all there.

Jesus Christ, was he the only one who had a good night? Well, he doesn’t really know how Duke’s night went but with the way he was rushing to get on patrol, if Jason had to guess it would be probably not good.

“Parsnip and Onion fritters.” He replies while scanning the kitchen for what task he can give Dick to help him out.

“Hey, could you do the dishes for me? I wouldn’t want Alfred to wake up and find the kitchen a mess.” He asks softly. Jason doesn’t mention that Alfred is already up and upon seeing all of them in the kitchen, about ten minutes ago, gave Jason a soft smile and left to do whatever Alfred does when he’s not butlering.

Dick turns to where Jason points to the dishes and nods.

“Oh yeah, of course.” He says spacely. Jason fights the urge to fist pump. If he’s learnt anything it's if you wanna get Dick Grayson to help himself, you gotta guilt trip him a little bit. He does take the knife before Dick can add it to his washing pile. Yeah he’s got some less than moral helping tactics but he’s not gonna let the guy hurt himself.

Damian gets up to help Dick with the dishes and they make quiet conversation. With Damian occasionally yelling when Dick splashes him or tries to place bubbles on his head.

Jason hands the empty bowl to Dick before placing the last of the fritters onto one big plate. He quickly whips up a greek yogurt and herb dip sauce. He grabs out enough plates for everyone and places two on a plate for Duke before wrapping it with foil and placing them in the fridge. He then hands the remaining stack of plates to Dick.

“Alright losers follow if you want breakfast.” He calls out before heading into the proper dining room. Dick sets the table before taking one for himself.

Jason will never tell anyone but he did feel nervous waiting for everyone’s reaction.

“Wait, why is this good?”

“I can’t tell if these are good or if I’m just really fucking hungry.”

“These are really good Jaybird.”

He tried to hide the way the tension fell from his shoulders before digging into his own food. The atmosphere was good and it made Jason kinda miss moments like this. This sense of family and belonging. Just a family having breakfast together.

“Is there any left for me?” Bruce asks as he walks in. Jason looks up at him. He’s met with a proud look he hasn’t seen in what feels like a lifetime. He hides his face and gestures to an empty chair.

“Take a seat, old man.”

I hope the fic is a good as you guys imagined 🥰

here’s a special thanks to @kaycynyrs for sending in the ask that inspired me to look at this fic again and @yourlocal-edgelord for encouraging me to rewrite it and to @heavenssolitude for being there and supporting me 🥰

(i’ll totally untag you guys if you didn’t wanna be tagged. just wanted to say thanks)

[wybienova]

dream visit (nostalgia) - a 2nd anniversary katfl comic

[heretherebedork]

The momentary warm light and then right back to the devastatingly stark light and Donghee was in the hospital to visit him but afraid to see him face to face and went in to see him asleep without any warmth for either of them, just the cold hospital lights.

[aroaceleovaldez]

just realized no BoO graphic novel means no Nico in his silly little dog harness for the Athena Parthenos this is TRAGIC

[wigglesdtuff]

the flower we saw that day

[ferrarer17]

How far they’ve come. How far could they go?

[chuckwon]

I simply don’t like when people act like what happened to Jack is what should have happened (as if the show didn’t deliberately spell out it would be Bad beforehand!), or like we can hand-wave GodJack as being fine and good in a continuation as long as other ~more important topics~ like destiel are eventually addressed.

Jack’s fate is the crux of the tragedy of the finale. Supernatural is a show about parents and children, and that cycle of violence remains unbroken. Jack was forced to become like his grandfather (the cosmic Father of the universe) because that’s who his fathers needed/wanted him to be. Jack shouldn’t be seen as an afterthought or a side note. He’s the thematic center that ties everything together, including the queer family structure of destiel.

So here’s my hot take: whether or not they go fully explicit with any kind of Chuck won concept (and they don’t necessarily have to)… any continuation must address that what happened to Jack isn’t a good thing — for him, for their family, or for the universe since the show stated God shouldn’t have personhood — in order to truly be fulfilling.

[padawansuggest]

Real take: I like Star Wars. I like the prequels because they have more fleshed out world building than the originals. I like the originals because it has a compelling storyline and character building. I like the cartoons because they do things that live action cannot. I like the children’s show Young Jedi Adventures and I think it’s both cute, extremely full of world building, and it’s designed to bring back the cartoon storyline of learning a lesson every episode that young children can relate to. I like the Mandalorian because it took a species with exactly two known people from it, and added a third, but made them a baby, and they were cute, and it shows the morals of Mandalorian adoption and love for children. I love Ahsoka because it took a favorite cartoon series and not only brought it to life, but also it’s funny and very full of world building for both the New Republic Rebellion scene, as well as more Dathomirian nightsister lore. I love a lot of other Star Wars off-shoots because they gave good storylines, they try to bridge plotholes, and a lot of amazing characters and new places to play with. I adore, fucking love, would give my life for Star Wars Visions; the lore and new concepts alone have captivated me and I can and HAVE made posts about things Visions did that no other SW series has touched and I’m so obsessed with the force and it’s aspects as well as just species and such you have no idea I would sell any of you for SW Visions. In fact, I would sell any of you for Young Jedi Adventures too. The worldbuilding alone for those two series is enough to have me vibrating with excitement with every episode. Sometimes I rewatch episodes of them just for random juicy facts that I can use for fics.

But you know why I don’t tell people I like Star Wars in real life? People always lookin at something they hate, and the most incel take on it is that it’s got too many women now. But irl non-fandom people who just want to ‘enjoy the ambiance of the original trilogy’ and me do not get along because they actually hate Star Wars. They genuinely hate Star Wars.

I can give you 50 plot lines in various sections of canon and legends that boiled my blood (tho not that one time Anakin at 12 literally boiled a man’s blood inside his body, that was hilarious his eyes turned black like a demons I’m so obsessed with him), but I’m not gonna talk about those.

Aren’t you exhausted? Wouldn’t it be nicer to gush about how amazing a certain costume design was? How the implications of a certain species makes you so excited you could burst? Wouldn’t you like to talk about how that one character just doesn’t get enough love and it wasn’t because they were fridged it was just because they didn’t get enough love from the fans for being black or female or disabled or something?

I am going to tell you this now, and you’re gonna hate me for it but I’m right: if you didn’t like Mortis because you think the force Doesn’t Work Like That? You don’t like Star Wars.

I’m tired of interacting with comments on commercials because it’s full of idiots crying about more women, a black character, the fact that ‘oh that wouldn’t happen’ as if the High Republic era didn’t literally have some sort of fucked up midichlorian vampire roaming the outer rim killing anyone force sensitive. Obviously they def would have acolytes set before the prequels shove it up your ass.

Anyways. Stop talking about what you hate. Yes, I get it. We are tired of rote pumped stories, but that doesn’t change the fact that there will ALWAYS be someone who hates the story you love, and loves the story you hate. You cannot please everyone, and I for one have found just about all off-shoot SW series individualized and compelling in some way or another.

You know what I did when I starting hating about 90% of all new Marvel movies? I stopped watching them. If I want back in the fandom I have older ones I can watch or simply only interact with fics.

Because Marvel, as much as they Need To Calm Their Shit, isn’t about me, and it isn’t for me anymore.

But I think a lot of you hate so much Star Wars content that you truly need to stop interacting with the series. It’s not for you anymore. And just because you didn’t like it doesn’t mean it’s not real SW. Not sorry, but this ain’t your scene anymore and you need to find a new one.

[zephyrchama]

Hey! Uhhh, my birthday is in two days and most my friends don’t want to celebrate with me. So could I get some comfort for an MC who is sad their human world friends don’t wanna celebrate but has the brothers by their side? I’ve been reading your fics and headcanons the whole night yesterday and they’re really good!

(Thank you!! Hope I made it in time, and I hope it's okay if I changed things up a bit to be an MC who wasn't expecting any sort of celebration. Please have a lovely day! Happy Birthday!) (Anyone who reads this, please be sure to wish seerachii a happy birthday!)

Your alarm was beeping. Just like every other day, you raised an arm and fumbled around in the sheets until your hand made contact with the alarm, turned off the noise, and sighed into the pillow. Waking up in a realm where the day-night cycle doesn’t exist was tough. Your body had a hard time keeping track of its natural rhythm.

It was a normal day. You had homework to do and errands to run. You decided ten more minutes in bed couldn’t hurt, as a treat, and felt around one more for your D.D.D.

New messages from all of the stores you frequented appeared in your inbox overnight. Fifty percent off today only! Buy 5000 grim worth of product and get a free present! Stop by in person and show this message to get a free sample! That last one vaguely intrigued you. Maybe you would stop by after the errands were complete. The kitchen was running low on trash bags, you needed a new notebook after spilling some caustic potion on your old one during class, and Satan asked you to pick up a pack of dental floss when the opportunity arose.

You slowly dragged yourself out of bed and over to the wardrobe. You wondered if it would be weird to dress a little fancier than normal, or if anyone would even notice.

Now that you were closer to the door, an odd sound caught your attention. Some kind of scuffling and movement on the other side of your bedroom door. Muffled voices. Your heart froze. Were you supposed to be on breakfast duty? Some of your housemates liked to be up early, and some of them got real cranky when their breakfast wasn’t prepared on time.

You hurried to put on whatever outfit was front and center before opening your door, expecting to see one or two grumpy demons waiting for their food. You were met with everybody, dressed in suits, in the midst of another sibling squabble. Things seemed tense and as soon as you opened the door, all of their attention turned towards you.

“You’re awake?” Beelzebub asked. “Good morning.”

This was a rare sight. Maybe your alarm clock was set to the wrong time and you woke up far later than usual. You rubbed an eye and opened your mouth to apologize for oversleeping but got cut off.

“Hold it! What in the three realms are you wearin’? You wore that same thing last week,” Mammon exclaimed, holding an arm out in front of the others as though holding them back.

Asmodeus shoved a decorative box overflowing with tissue paper into your hands. “Put this on! Go, go!” He nudged your back into your room, and they shut the door behind you.

What?

The muffled squabbling started back up. You heard Belphegor in particular complain, "I didn't get to say good morning."

"We'll do it properly the next time," Lucifer said, right before your attention was directed elsewhere.

Inside the box was a a stunning outfit. Far fancier than anything you thought of wearing that morning and custom-tailored exactly to your size. You admired it in the mirror, conflicted. This definitely seemed like a gift, but was it really? The material felt expensive. You didn't want to get your hopes up. It could be a coincidence, some new idea that Diavolo cooked up or an event you forgot to write on the calendar. But even if that were true, what a nice coincidence it was.

A hush fell over the brothers as you gripped the door handle. This was definitely weird. You swung the door open again and asked, "What's going on?"

"Happy Birthday!" a chorus of voices rang out. Some of them followed it up with "good morning!" Someone temporarily blinded you with a confetti popper.

"Sorry we forgot to say it before," Leviathan said, clapping.

Satan and Lucifer came forward to pick confetti and glitter out of your hair, congratulating you while Asmodeus fussed over your new outfit. "As I thought, it suits you! Hehe."

A mix of emotions welled up. Mostly shock. "You remembered? Or rather... you guys knew? I don't think I told you..."

"'course we knew!" Mammon boasted.

"Who do you take us for?" Belphegor took one of your hands while Beelzebub grabbed the other. They went ahead and intertwined their fingers with yours before anyone else could object.

"We have a lot planned for today, but first, was there anything on your schedule?" Satan asked. "I hope you didn't make too many plans."

"Yeah," you said truthfully, "if there's time I was going to pick up that floss and maybe some new stationary."

Asmodeus laughed and slid an arm around your shoulder. "Oh, you're so funny!"

"You can do that another day," Lucifer chuckled. "We have better things in store for you."

"I especially can't wait for dinner." "Beel, that's a surprise," Leviathan chided, poking the glutton in his side. "Oh, right. You didn't hear that."

They had a whole day of activities planned, just for you? You teared up a little. It was impossible to cover up with your hands being held, so you looked at the floor to try and collect yourself. Just for a moment.

Of course they noticed. Leviathan was alarmed and rushed to ask, "What's wrong?"

Lucifer's confidence wavered ever so slightly, a rare happenstance. He stepped forward with a worried expression and a handkerchief if you needed it.

"Mammon, what did you do?" Belphegor eyed his brother suspiciously.

"Why me? Nothin'!" he stammered, kneeling to get a better look at your face. "What's wrong, huh?"

These guys belonged to a big family. They might fight, but they always had each others backs and supported one another when the time came. You belonged to their big family. They might be overwhelming and needy, but they always had your back and supported you when the time came. You were an inseparable part of them. It was an inscrutable realization.

What was there to say? Thank you? That sounded far too simple to express the complex emotion pooling in your gut. You squeezed the hands that had reached out to you first. They squeezed back. Maybe it was okay to be a little selfish on your birthday in the Devildom.

A wavering smile spread across your face. "I can't wait. What are we going to do?"

[polygarnstars]

'we get it gar you don't have to keep posting about it' until i get a functioning computer again and can draw her in a field of blue pink and white pnw wildflowers you Will deal with my 'roz is trans'-posting.

like this isn't 'yes we get it there's coding' this is Just Straight Up Textual

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

i have this really stupid idea in my head that im frankly a little obsessed with and the idea is this: trent crimm doing a drunk history episode on ted lasso's first tenure at richmond. is that how drunk history works? i don't think so. do i care? absolutely not. it's a special episode who cares because this image is not only hysterical to me but treasured. i treasure this image. i hold it close in my heart and also laugh and laugh and laugh.

[sluttylittlewaistenthusiast]

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all the fanfics i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

╰┈➤ a/n: i scoured the treacherous trench of ao3 to find these fics i miss the person i was before that one fic (i missed the tag)

ᡣ𐭩 how you can help palestine . fic recs m.list

@hanasnx

⭒ Nose-Riding

⭒ Comfort

unfortunately, han can be insensitive. good thing he knows just how to calm you down as soon as he figures out he messed up.

⭒ Prompt #43

⭒ One

⭒ Running His Mouth

@ddejavvu

⭒ Han Solo x Shy!Reader

@lovelybucky1

⭒ Kinktober: Praise

@companionjones

⭒ Every Night

Han talks to you every night to help you get to sleep. Tonight, you stay up a little later, and find out what Han talks about after he thinks you're asleep.

@erosmutt

⭒ Thinkin' 'bout...

@dameronology

⭒ Step by Step

han solo didn’t fall in love. then again, there was a lot of things that han solo didn’t do before he met you.

⭒ The One Where He Comforts You

after you have a panic attack, han helps you calm down 

@astxrwar

⭒ We've Got Problems

The reader is a brat. Han has no idea what "dealing with things responsibly" means. Trouble ensues

@/Telaryn on ao3

⭒ Pressing Upon His Secrets

When they agreed to take on a refugee from Arcentia, Han had never intended it to go anywhere. His heart still belonged to Qi'ra, after all, and the Arcentians have the power to compel truth from a man. Together it's a bad combination for any smuggler to consider. But the nights on board the Falcon can be very lonely, and sometimes when the memories crowd too close it's nice to be able to wake up in someone else's arms.

@/rexsjaigeyes on ao3

⭒ The Bet

⭒ What happens when Lando makes a bet with you that he can’t make Han jealous?

@/faeriemoon on ao3

⭒ Cupid's Chokehold

“You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

@/dominataggelover69 on ao3

⭒ Closet Conversations

Han apparently has a thing for making out with people in the Falcon's closet.

⭒ Pilot's License

You ask Han Solo for some flying lessons

@/TheHeroWithNoFear on ao3

⭒ A Win-Win Situation

Han Solo accompanies Lando Calrissian on a business deal. To pass the time he plays Sabacc with the exotic Sinewy Ana Blue. Only to find himself with an offer he can’t refuse.

[mistress-light]

The answers you seek lie beyond Athia's borders. Come to me. I will be waiting.