#as if he hadn't tried to do that himself

[ssaraexposs]

Basically, the Akutagawa's way to say "You just can't kill my jinko"

[iguessitsjustme]

Ter stop talking over and making decisions for Dee challenge 2k24. Y'all ain't even friends at this point you're just the annoying coworker go away

[dionte-goethe]

I was inspired by that one scene in "more than anything" from Hazbin Hotel. Just thinking about the way Jiang Cheng had to face these sect leaders with a destroyed sect, no alliances (until Yanli married and even then...), and the fallout of Wei Wuxian's actions. He just doesn't want Jin Ling to have to deal with all the terrible things he had to deal with as a young sect leader, he's tried to protect him from all that, when JL wants him to step back because JC could tear himself apart protecting JL...

[almightyramtha]

Gale wanting this stupid crown is turning him into an asshole before my very eyes. If this game gives me the chance I will slap this man, I swear.

[onewomancitadel]

It is fun and interesting when even heroes do bad things or do bad things with good intentions because it makes them more human and psychologically complex and makes more story happen. I'll never understand members of the audience who want to live in moral paradise where nothing ever goes wrong and only evil people ever do the wrong thing and once you kill all the evil people evil stops existing and to ever dare insinuate heroes could do wrong is blasphemy and "shifting the blame". I'm not playing that game. It's not about which character has the mandate of heaven.

I just don't get it and I will never get it. Is it fear? Is it a desire for absolute simplicity? Is it my fantasy bristling against theirs? Is it the inability to win an online argument about your character being the most moral and pure in the whole world? Because it seems to me it often comes down to "xyz villain is more evil, stop coping" which is like... okay... if you have a flat view of storytelling, sure (oh God, I used to get into so many arguments about daring to compare Cinder-Pyrrha and Jaune-Penny). Of course, the most fun thing about I/ronwood's character arc is that is exactly his whole deal in relation to Salem, and exactly how he justifies what he does, which is kind of ironic in how people miss the point. But I wasn't even vagueing about him in the first place! I just remembered why I love R/WBY because this is an actual idea explored in the story. I love storytelling.

[doverstar]

joseph gordon-levitt called jim hawkins "just a very good-looking wasp of a boy that I will never be" and I've been thinking about that for two weeks

[victorluvsalice]

-->And then -- time for a snowball fight! Because, well, it was cold, there was snow on the ground, so why not? XD They all ran around throwing snowballs at each other and having a lovely time for a few rounds (Smiler even getting a happy sentiment with both Victor and Alice about how much fun they were having) – but, unfortunately, Alice’s werewolf instincts interrupted and made her very testy and in need of a nap. *sigh* Darn finicky temperaments... So I ended the fight and let her get in a snooze in the snow by the bar while Victor headed over to the observatory to observe the sky (no new print, unfortunately) and Smiler went looking for frogs in all the frog logs (getting a Striped Leaf, Striped Eggplant, and Striped Dirt -- none of which they actually needed, but at least they can be used for breeding?). Alice woke up once her energy was better and her instincts quieted, then grabbed another plate of meat and cheese before running over to meet Victor and Smiler by the observatory, where they were making more snow angels. Everyone happily came together to spin some noisemakers and throw/blast confetti in honor of the holiday –

Just in time for the date to end on gold level! :D You love to see it. (Though I think all they got out of it was another VIP bucket – I wish that the date rewards were a little more varied!)

-->However, before they went home, I REALLY wanted them to get a cute trio shot together somewhere in the park. You know me and my love of taking in-game pictures of them, after all. :p After looking around (and unsuccessfully trying to direct them all to the same spot in front of one of the fish fountains just off-lot), I decided one of the corner fountains would do and had them head over there via their various teleports. I had Alice get out her tripod, then tried positioning it right outside the gap in the hedges leading to the fountain, hoping that would lead to a good shot. There was the usual trouble in trying to set UP the group shot – a bit of lag, Smiler insisting on presenting some flowers to Victor just before they were to wait for the photographer – but, having learned my lesson from previous attempts, I just shut off autonomy for a while before giving it another go –

Aaaand discovered that the camera was facing at the most awkward angle to the group EVER. XD Now, fortunately, when your camera is on a tripod, you can actually spin it around 360 degrees to get a better angle. UNFORTUNATELY, when I did that, Victor and Smiler were half-behind the hedges, meaning there really was no better angle. *facepalm* I took a few snaps just because I wanted SOMETHING from the date, but I don’t know if any of these will be going up on the wall! At least, not where visitors can see. :p

[muninnhuginn]

@roseofcards90​

thanks for the ask! here’s the terumob part of the answer

terumob:

Okay so my main thing with this is that Teru’s lowkey worshipping of Mob is something which can be very easily read as a crush and I think that’s where the appeal is for a lot of people. For me though, I’m not a huge fan of ship dynamics where one person is explicitly put above another. I’m sure I’ll have exceptions, but as a general rule it’s something I don’t really go for.

So how this goes into Terumob is basically that their dynamic changes through the series. Initially Teru sees himself as above Mob and everyone else in the world (not realising that power-wise he’s actually completely outclassed) before being forced to reassess when Mob both psychologically and psychically dismantles him. From then on, he puts Mob on this huge pedestal, believing that if he follows Mob’s ‘teachings’ then he’ll become a better person. And tbf a lot of this has a “fake it ‘til you make it” kinda vibe in that no one can change overnight and for all that Teru tries to pretend he’s grown massively as a person when he first meets Ritsu, it doesn’t change the fact that he only met Mob the other week.

So you go through most of the series with Teru almost seeing Mob as almost this religious figure whilst Mob in turn doesn’t much seem interested in anyone but (the idea of) Tsubomi.

There is a period just prior to the finale where Mob and Teru are having a conversation and during it it becomes pretty clear that Mob puts Teru above him in terms of social aspects whilst Teru puts Mob above him in terms of, well, pretty much everything else. I do find that interesting to dig into because it means they’re both mutually lifting the other above themselves in their expectations and that’s much more fun to me than it being so one-sided. Plus, Mob is in some ways forgetting the very things he first “taught” to Teru and Teru has to actively remind him of back then.

Still, this whole conversation is happening in the context of Mob wanting to confess to Tsubomi and tbh, I do think the way the series is structured it’s hard to say Mob could come to his conclusion about Tsubomi any sooner than he did in canon and have it be convincing.

Which basically brings me to the conclusion that the only time I’d consider terumob as having an opening that I would personally find interesting and viable would be post-canon because Teru only breaks out of his hero worship in the finale confrontation and Mob is only able to move on from Tsubomi (and importantly, complete his emotional development) at the same time. And we see so little of their interactions and characters after the finale confrontation that I find it really difficult to infer what their future interactions could look like.

So most of this is why I’m saying platonic + therapy. The ‘fandom ruined it’ box is more because a big chunk of the fanart/fic I’ve seen with these two in a pairing doesn’t really convince me I’m seeing the same characters as anyone else. I don’t actively avoid/block it because I don’t super mind it and some people can get the dynamic down, but overall I just prefer platonic and find their relationship has enough meat to it as it is in canon.

[asterdeer]

definitely the funniest thing about the last richard episode is that everyone is like "oh my god the bad guys threw richard out of a car on purpose, they attempted to murder him by pitching him off a cliff, this is the last straw, this blatant murder attempt will not go unanswered!” and eventually richard is going to have to make a choice.

[vox-off]

re: your grumpy friend who’s annoying playing mtg

I’m not as socially deficient as this guy, but I get some of where he’s coming from. While I do like to play competitively or recreationally, things like storytelling, art, lore, the feel of the world, etc. are a big part of what attracts me to one game or another, one expansion or another, etc. I also really don’t care about limited formats or draft formats, for the same reason. Deck cohesion and theming is a big part of what makes card games fun to me, so I’ve only ever really like tribal sets in limited.

I’m not as big of a crybaby about people playing to win as I used to be, or as much as he is, but idk how old he is. I was obnoxious as a kid.

ANYWAY, actual advice:

If you guys really want to keep him as a friend, have you considered just playing something else? It seems like he’d have a lot more fun playing a collaborative game, or a ttrpg, or doing a different activity with more of a role-playing creative aspect

not trying to tell you how to live your life, but I can see how a guy like that would find a competitive game very frustrating, I almost exclusively play single player games and watch movies these days, or play commander precon v. precon as a very casual party game.

league of legends was like, life-ruining frustrating for me, as much as I got invested in the world and its characters, the actual gameplay experience was just kinda ass

oh believe me, i also get where he's coming from, i'm not saying that his style of play and what he finds rewarding in magic is wrong or lesser than mine, and if my original post implied that, that absolutely was not my intent. i get it from a parallel sense; he enjoys constructing stories with his decks and i enjoy constructing rube goldberg machines with mine. both are correct ways of playing magic

i also feel i should clarify the pod's "competitiveness": we all play kitchen table. my favorite 60 card deck of mine to play is a madness deck that costs about $6. the most expensive deck ever to hit our table was around $70 and it was HIS eldrazi deck. it's never been a rout either, he has the second highest winning record in the pod. we keep a tally - he wins more than he loses. lol i have the worst record in the pod by far, and it is a bummer i very much get it, but i don't scream obscenities at my friends when i lose

and we DO play ttrpgs - half of my mtg pod is also half of my tt group (it's like a venn diagram of my nerd friends). i've invited him to play multiple times, but he only wants to play rogue trader or 5e and i'm currently running a pbta campaign. i've encouraged him to run his own rogue trader campaign - i've been a DM for over a decade, i LOVE opportunities to be a player again - but he's never taken me up on it. our magic nights are sort of... open? if that makes sense? we post times and who's hosting in the discord, whoever wants to show up shows up and we play. no one's forcing him to play magic with us, he's making the conscious choice to come to magic nights

what bothers me is that for him, gameplay is not a two-way street. if he takes out something on my board, that's "strategy." if i return the favor - because on what planet am i going to let Krenko, Mob Boss stay on a battlefield already covered in goblin tokens if i have a Murder in hand - i'm "targeting him." he behaves as if his opponent is supposed to be his audience, not a participating player in a game

also, if this puts anything into perspective, he's almost 40

[puppmeo]

Have you ever been assumed to be romantically attracted to someone and even just the thought of that makes you want to throw up . Anybody

[theredcuyo]

Bruce tries to figure out why his kids tend to fall asleep when they're under his cape, because it's been happening since Dick was Robin and twice with Jason could be a coincidence, but it's still happening by the time Damian arrives, so there has to be something there

It's the weight? They do like they weighted blankets, but that doesn't seem to be it

He's doing experiments, anything but asking, really-

And it's not like they'd actually tell him that the real reason it's not the cape itself, but the fact that to be covered by it they're being carried by him

They're being hold by their dad, and can hide into the little darkness that it makes, making a little warm, safe, comfortable place because of the man who's wearing the cape

Most of the kids cried upon realizing this, they hadn't felt like that in a long time, or ever before

But since then, it was always a nice thing for them, no matter how big they got

Dick had tried to forget about it when he fought with Bruce, but the first time he had to be carried around after patrol together again, it was still there

Jason had almost actually forgotten when he came back, and by the time he was in good terms with B, he definitely was too big for it, right? Wrong, when they got attacked with fear gas and he was the last to be able to get out of it, he found himself in that same old warm place

Tim felt wrong about it at first, not his place, like everything, he remainded himself, but as time went on, he found himself craving for it sometimes, to an embarassing point where Bruce will just start opening his cape to him every. Night. Not that Tim will say no to it. Bruce does that to him, it's almost a routine by now

Cass and Damian have always liked to hide in there for "surprise factor" but if they stay in for longer, and Bruce knows they'll doze off, it's not a problem either

It gets a bit hard when it happens at the same time though

It was one of the first things they all did when Bruce was back from the time stream, a nice way to process the idea that he was back with them-

[yuukiiqwq]

Satoru was confident that you liked him back. He was positive. He had no doubt in his mind that you were going to be his pretty little wife. Is he getting ahead of himself? Sure, he is, but he's that confident. That's until he noticed how he hadn't received any chocolate from you.

It was Valentine's Day, and he still hasn't received any chocolate from you. Yeah, he had a mountain worth of chocolate from all those people who gave him it, but where was yours? He couldn't find it anywhere. He was sure that you would have placed your chocolate on his desk since you hadn't given him his. He double no triple checked all the chocolates, yet he could not find the one that has your pretty little name written on it. He continued to search through the chocolate pile for the fourth time today.

He must have missed it, right? Or did someone steal it? He swear he's going to hunt that person to the end of the Earth. Who dared to steal something that was rightfully his?

"Satoru, calm down."

He looked up at his best friend, who was trying to hold down a laugh at his panic.

"She'll probably give it to you later. The day just begun."

Right. Suguru is right. You'll give him his chocolate later. He's a good boy. He can wait.

That's what he told himself, but Suguru and Shoko have already received theirs this morning, and his is still nowhere to be found. Where is his chocolate? You're just sitting there in your seat, looking all pretty as if Satoru is not going through a huge dilemma because of you.

He couldn't help his hands that kept inching itself closer to the chocolate you gave Suguru. He wouldn't know if he snatched it, right? Suguru had received a lot of chocolate! He wouldn't know if he took it... was what he convinced himself before Suguru slapped his hand away.

"Satoru," he sighs.

"But Suguru!!!" Satoru whined as he sunk down into his seat.

"Be patient. You'll get yours soon."

But how soon is soon? Satoru isn't exactly known for his patient.

It was the end of the day, and still no chocolate from you. He asked Suguru and Shoko to leave first because he thought you would finally give it to him when both of you were alone. But you haven't. Where was his chocolate?

The two of you were approaching the exit of school, so Satoru made a quick decision, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into an empty classroom. He quickly shut the door and locked it.

"Satoru?" You asked in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"My chocolate."

"Your chocolate?"

"My chocolate from you! The symbol of your love towards me!"

"I didn't make you any," you replied smoothly. "Forgot to make them yesterday, so I woke up early today to make them, but I guess not early enough. I only had time to finish Shoko's and Suguru's. I didn't have time to make yours. Otherwise, I would have been late."

Satoru swear the world just ended. He looked down at his chest because he swears his heart ripped out of his chest at your words. Nope. Still alive. Why is he still alive in this cruel world? You had no chocolate for him? None? Not even a crumb?

"That's fine with you, right? I mean, you got a bunch of chocolate from other girls! You don't need mine."

He swear he is about to burst into tears. He didn't care about other girls. He didn't care about their chocolate. He wanted yours. How could you be so cruel and deny him of your chocolate? To reject him like this? He was devastated. No. Beyond devastated. Where is the closest cliff so he can jump off?

Pure silence radiated the room as Satoru tried to comprehend this horrible situation. Then he heard a small giggle slip pass your lips. That small giggle soon turns into a full-out laugh.

"You should have seen the look on your face, Satoru," you say as you try to stop laughing.

Was this funny to you? Why were you laughing at his suffering? Do you know how much he looked forward to today? To receive the cute little wrapped up chocolate you made for him? He dreamed of today, and you didn't have chocolate for him?

He then sees you reach into your bag and pull out exactly what he had imagined. A cute little chocolate box wrapped up in a baby blue color with a touch of white ribbon to finish it off. Fuck. He thinks he just got a heart attack seeing your chocolate. His chocolate.

"Princess, please don't joke like that to me ever again. You scared me half to death. I was going to jump off a cliff," he whined as he took the chocolate from your hand.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his dramatic behavior. "Stop being dramatic, Satoru. It's just chocolate."

A look of offense dawned his face as you utter those horrendous words to him.

"Chocolate? Just chocolate?" He huffed at you. He can't believe you as you treat this amazing god send gift as just chocolate. "Don't you dare call this just chocolate! This! This right here is proof of your undying love towards me!"

You laughed at his antics– "You're getting ahead of yourself, Satoru."

He delicately placed the chocolate safety away in his bag, treating it as a prized possession. He's looking forward towards white day. He already knows what he wants to get for you. He pulled you into a hug, nuzzling his face against your neck as he mutters– "You won't be saying that after I wife you up."

[blackkatdraws2]

[Toon x Mobster] Chapter 1.1: Unfamiliar.

Previously // Next - (chapter list)

Gavriel Huffman’s consciousness drifted back in pieces, slowly. The first sensation he registered was the pain. A throbbing, burning ache in his side that shot throughout his body with each ragged breath he took. His hand twitched reflexively, wanting to clutch at the wound, but his limbs felt heavy, sluggish.

He groaned, eyelids fluttering open before having to close them as his blurry vision was assaulted by the bright sunlight peaking through the cracks of the window blinds. Gavriel winced, turning his head slightly to escape the light. The movement sent another jolt of pain lancing through his body making him grit his teeth. The pain, though familiar, was sharper now, less numbed by adrenaline.

His instincts screamed at him to assess his surroundings, and with great effort, he forced his unsteady vision to focus. What he saw made him slightly more awake with disoriented alarm.

The room was cozy. Unbearably so. The walls had warm tones of colors that made the room feel welcoming. The bed he laid on was draped in a checkered quilt with a few stitches here and there. It wasn't as feathery soft or as luxurious as the one he had back in his place, but the worn down cheap quality of it only made them feel more homely in comparison. The air was filled with a subtle, comforting scent, and the one Gavriel noticed immediately was the smell of baked goods.

It was the kind of room he had only ever seen through windows in neighborhoods he didn’t belong in.

Gavriel’s brow furrowed, his jaw tightening. He didn’t belong here. The dissonance between his bleak, gritty world and this gentle, almost absurd comfort was jarring. It made his head spin, not just from the pain.

He hadn't been thinking very clearly then, but he could vaguely recall memories of the rain and the blood soaking into his clothes and him collapsing into unconsciousness, but everything after that was a blur. How had he ended up here?

Where the hell was he? His hand felt heavy as he reached up to touch the wound in his side, and he was surprised to find it wrapped in bandages. The dressing was hastily done.

He pushed the blanket aside, revealing his current state. His torso was bare, the bandages wrapped tight around his injury, and he was wearing pants that definitely weren’t his. The worn, clean fabric was more snug than anything he’d ever put on.

He frowns at this. Gavriel didn’t trust kindness. It's a luxury reserved for people who hadn’t been forced to scrape and claw their way through life.

With a grunt, he forced himself upright, teeth gritting as another wave of pain rippled throughout his body. He braced himself on the nightstand, the wooden surface creaking under his grip, and scanned the room for any signs of danger.

His eyes landed on a small framed photo on the nightstand. It showed a cheerful looking man with a wide goofy smile and a thumbs-up, standing next to… what he assumes to be his family, accompanied with a clean and comfortable-looking set of clothing sitting there waiting for him to wear alongside his glasses.

He reached out for it, seating the frame on his nose bridge and ears. Gavriel turned to squint at the image, something tugging in his head as he tried to place the face of that male toon. Then his mind flashed to the moment before he went unconscious. Someone had crouched down beside him when he was dying in that alleyway.

But why? The idea that someone had helped him, patched up a criminal covered in blood, was almost laughable. People didn’t do that for him- for them. At least, not in the place where he belongs.

Currently though, that wasn't his main concern. His dark eyes narrowed. Where the hell was his gun?

His fingers instinctively moved to his waist, but the comfort of the cold metal wasn't there. Gavriel sighed as a familiar wave of dullness washed over him, pulling him in a state of rumination. He was still hurt, still vulnerable, and that meant he was in danger, no matter how deceptively safe this place looked. He clenched his fists, not even giving a wince at the painful ache in his body.

All of this made him feel rather numb and confused, but it doesn't show on his face which he'd trained to never waver even in danger.

The dull ache of his wounds, the confusion of being in this unsettlingly mellow room, and the disorientation of having just woken up alive when he very well should've been dead in an alleyway somewhere. It all pressed down on him heavily. His mind felt like it was wrapped in fog, every thought coming in with a painful throb. He tried to think, to piece together why he hadn’t bled out in that alley.

He knew that his injuries had been severe enough to be fatal, the kind of wounds that left little hope for survival. A few hasty bandages and dressings wouldn’t have done much to stop the life bleeding out of his dying body.

Yet here he was, hurting but very much still alive. He rubbed his forehead, the motion sluggish from pain as he racked his brain for an answer. It wasn’t until he sat there for a hot minute that realization struck.

Oh, right. He was in a city reigned by the Toon genre.

It was common knowledge to all that the Toons leaned heavily on the whimsical side, or more specifically, it was the environment itself that exuded this sort of vitality. One that let its residents survive otherwise fatal mishaps with only a moment’s comedic daze and maybe a few tweeting birds circling their heads.

He couldn’t be bothered to recite the specifics of it. Something about places in the Toon genre having stronger healing properties or some nonsense like that. But now, in this moment, the absurdity wasn’t so easy to dismiss as it had been the very thing that had led to him surviving his death, a miracle in of itself.

Gavriel’s hand reached up to softly graze the large scar on the side of his neck, healed yet still deep and harrowing, which told stories of a much darker time. Touching it had been a habit he'd developed a long time ago in times of stress or simply whenever he contemplated.

He had no patience for the whimsical workings of this place, no desire to analyze the wonders or whatever it was that had saved him. The only thing that mattered to him was that it had and he's alive because of it.

It didn’t change his wariness though. If anything, it only made him more resolute to understand who had brought him here and why.

Then Gavriel hears the door click open.

---------------

Jack Desmond stepped into the bedroom, carefully balancing a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and a bowl of warm porridge in the other. He didn't have anything special in his kitchen at the moment so he was only able to put together a simple meal, figuring that even the scariest man in the world deserved something warm and filling in his stomach to help him heal. That was, if the food hadn't already gone cold by the time he awoke.

Jack wore his usual friendly smile, ready to show the stranger some hospitality when he froze in confusion the moment he saw that the bed was empty.

“Huh?” Jack murmured, his brow furrowing. His eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of where the man might have gone, but there was nothing.

"Hugh!"

Coffee and porridge spilled to the ground as the cup and plate he'd been holding came crashing down on the ground, splattering everywhere.

Rough hands closed around his neck from behind. The force of the grip was firm, not quite strangling but strong enough to hold Jack in place.

Cold sweat beaded on his forehead and rolled down his temples, his hair standing on its end. It felt like his heart was caught in his throat, he didn't even dare breathe too hard.

The presence behind him was suffocating, a dense aura of danger which didn't fit with the comfort of the room they were in.

The hand holding him didn’t need a weapon.

It didn't take much for Jack to instinctively realize that he was currently bordering the line of life and death, a primal understanding that this man could end him effortlessly if he choses to.

Jack’s throat bobbed as he tried to swallow but can't, his mouth dry as a desert. It was as if time had slowed down. He could feel his heart thundering inside, each beat thudding louder and louder in his ears as he stood there, unable to do anything but wait.

The silence was deafening. Jack's mind told him to yell, scream loudly for help, but he couldn’t even force out a sound.

Jack felt his breath hitch as the man’s deep, rumbling voice cut through the suffocating silence. The voice was hoarse from fatigue and pain, but it still carried a commanding weight to it as he spoke.

"Who are you?" the voice demanded, each word slow and deliberate, laced with a barely restrained irritation. "Where am I and why am I here?"

Despite the fear pressing down on him, Jack’s mind raced, and something other than terror roused his senses. He sniffs subconsciously, his nose picking up a change in the air. That sharp, metallic tang that made his stomach twist.

"I-I’ll tell you everything you want to know," he stammered. "But please, d-don’t move too much." He could smell it. The fresh, unmistakable scent of blood. "You're hurt, s-sir…"

With those words, the room fell into silence again. The man behind him didn't say anything, as if contemplating Jack’s words, yet the grip around Jack’s neck remained firm. Each second seemed to stretch into eternity, and Jack held his breath, waiting for a response as a cold bead of sweat rolls down his face.

Finally, after what felt like a forever, the grip released. Jack released his breath, silently gasping for air as his feet planted into the ground, trying to steady his balance after that terrifying experience. Slowly, he turns around, stumbling away slightly as he looks up to face the much larger man.

Gavriel stood there, towering over him with one hand clutching his wounded side, blood seeping through the bandages and staining his skin anew. With a shadow cast over his face, his sharp glare intensified.

His dark eyes narrowed, scarred face twisted into a pained look of irritation. Even when injured, such a sight would be enough to intimidate anyone with the sheer menace he radiated.

But as Jack’s heart raced in his chest, his gaze drifted almost unconsciously to Gavriel’s wound. The fear was still there, pressing down on Jack’s chest, but something else was too.

Concern.

The sight of the reopened wound stirred something deeply instinctive and kind in Jack, something that momentarily outweighed his terror. He couldn’t help it. Despite the terrifying glare, despite understanding that this man could kill him if he wanted to, Jack’s eyes lingered more on his injury rather than his scary appearance.

“You’re bleeding again,” Jack whispered, his voice small but genuine, before he presses his lips, meekly looking up to meet the man's eyes. The words had slipped out before he could stop them, his worry winning over self-preservation for just a second.

Gavriel’s glare remained unwavering, burning with a mix of suspicion and impatience. “Answer my questions,” he ordered.

Jack nodded quickly in agreement, returning his focus on the wound, which now had blood dripping from Gavriel’s side, pooling on the floor in droplets.

Jack frowns, a wave of empathy coursing through him, and he took a small step forward without thinking, wanting to help.

Gavriel reacted instantly, his expression souring like a cornered animal. His lips pulled back into a nasty snarl, and Jack immediately froze, eyes darting back to the man's face, his look carrying a clear message.

Don’t come any closer.

Jack was hesitant, but he took a shaky breath and showed Gavriel his palm, trying to show him that he meant no harm. “I just… I just want to help.” His eyes showed nothing but genuine concern, a warmth that was out of place in the tension.

For a moment, Gavriel didn’t move. His gaze bore into Jack with an intensity that made the toon feel exposed but Jack holds his ground, knowing that the man in front of him was in pain and had only been acting out of self preservation.

Jack cautiously inched closer, his hands still raised, palm facing upwards to try and ease the man that he wouldn't do anything bad to him. The closer he got, the more he could see the strain in Gavriel’s features. It was a silent battle between the pain and the effort to appear unwavering.

Finally, he reached the man’s side. Gavriel's eyes followed, but he didn’t stop him as Jack extended his palm towards him. Jack's hand flinches and hesitates for a second when Gavriel's grip on his wound tightened… Jack steels himself and gently touched the lower side of the man's hip, his fingers being stained with the blood that ran steadily down it.

Despite not being injured himself, Jack still winced sympathetically at the sight. Though Gavriel’s face showed no change, Jack didn’t miss the way the muscle around the injury flinched at his touch.

“Okay… okay.” Jack murmured, his voice soft but determined. His mind buzzed with worry, already trying to think of what he could do to keep the wound from worsening.

With a pang of dread, it finally dawned on him in fullness that this was only the beginning of him having to temporarily keep this dangerous man in his apartment.

Oh, boy. This was going to be a long week.

[violent138]

More than half the League is betting at any time that they know when it's actually Batman under the mask, or someone else. Unfortunately, they were wrong when:

Dick was doing a phenomenal job of playing Bruce (didn't give himself away even once by smiling), because he fell asleep

Batman stubbed his toe against a table and swore like a sailor which led to cash exchanging hands as several people figured it was Jason, but Bruce had recently switched out of Matches Malone to dress up as Bats and hadn't shaken the Mindset yet

Batman's suit sat weirdly empty at the table and Oliver, annoyed, tried to tell Damian that this was too serious a meeting for Bruce to delegate, but it was Batman, hit with a de-ageing spell and too stubborn to sit out

After sustaining pretty serious injuries, Batman was whiteknuckling the table, in an awful mood, and nobody thought anything of it. Barry offered to help Bruce up (if the pain was keeping him trapped, trying not to insult Batman too much), and Jason tightly replied that if he moved the suit was going to tear.

Clark and Bruce had a bet for how long they could replace Bruce with a mannequin without anyone noticing, and because Clark kept looking over at "Bruce" and giggling (pretty par for the course for them), nobody noticed for five hours.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

We NEED more soft!Rafe after the new season. He moved out and got a whole house to himself maybe he could ask his girl to move in? Becasue he wants her there and to be part of his life...his new life where he's a better person

Request: SOFT RAFE PLSSS

I don't know when I found time to write this, but enjoy soft!Rafe asking his girlfriend to move in with him! Feel free to send more requests, I'll write when I find time

Warnings: soft!Rafe, relationship moving quickly, mention of Ward's death

—

‘’Rafe, I truly can’t see. I’m not cheating,'’ you promised as you walked with Rafe’s hands over your eyes.  

He had picked you up in late afternoon and refused to tell you where you were going. Just that he wanted to show you something...and that you had to close your eyes during the whole drive. 

Rafe laughed a bit, trusting you. ''Okay, okay.'' 

You walked a few more steps, then he stopped and removed his hands from your eyes, revealing a large two story house. 

A frown formed between your eyebrows. ‘’Who's house is this?''

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. ‘’Mine,'' he whispered in your ear, giving you a gentle kiss on your jawline. ‘’As of this morning.'' 

Surprise filled your face. ‘’You bought a house?’’ 

Every time Rafe showed up to your place after a fight with his family — most often his father —, needing a bed to crash in for a few days, you tried talking to him about getting his own place. It would solve a lot of conflicts. But Rafe always said he wasn’t ready to leave the family nest. 

Behind you, Rafe hummed. ‘’I bought it with a part of my dad’s inheritance money. Sharing a house with Rose is not possible anymore. Too much has happened...’’ 

You covered his hands with yours in silent support. You’d heard the ugly stories about Rose and Rafe. He hadn’t always made the best decisions in the past, but Rose constantly blamed him for everything bad that happened to the family. Rafe may have deep personal issues, but it was wrong of her to villainize him.

‘’Do you want a tour?’’ he asked, his voice brimming with excitement, and the eagerness in his eyes made it impossible for you to refuse.

You followed Rafe up the steps to the porch of his new home. He fumbled briefly with the key before pushing the door open, but just as you were about to enter, he pulled you to a sudden stop.

“Wait,” he ordered, his strong arms wrapping around you as he effortlessly lifted you up.

You squeaked, startled by the sudden move. ‘’Rafe, we're not married, you know,’’ you said with a soft laugh, looping an arm behind his neck. ‘’You don't have to carry me over the threshold."

He set you down gently on the wooden floor of the entrance hall and shut the door behind him. 

Inside, the house felt big and empty, its openness accentuated by the sunlight streaming through the uncovered windows.

‘’I don’t know why, but I expected it to be fully furnished,’’ you admitted, glancing towards what you assumed was the living room. 

Rafe chuckled, his fingers lacing with yours as he guided you further in. ‘’Some people do buy them furnished, but this one wasn’t. You’ll have to help me pick out furniture because I suck at decorating.’’ 

The kitchen was massive and even had two ovens — a rich people thing. It was unfortunate Rafe didn’t cook. The backyard had a large patio where Rafe mentioned wanting to set a barbecue and a firepit, and maybe one of those large daybeds. He wanted his house to be cozy and feel like a home, not look straight out of a fucking magazine.

As he led you into the last room upstairs, the master bedroom, Rafe's voice grew soft. The words were burning on his tongue, but he didn’t know how to say them. 

‘’And here's our bedroom. I mean, the bedroom.’’ He made a mistake on purpose, just to see your reaction. 

You tried to hide the smile that spread across your lips, your heart beating fast in your chest. The slip of his tongue hadn't gone by unnoticed. Did he truly mean for you to live here with him? Was this why he took you to the house and insisted on making it a surprise? 

‘’There’s a big bathtub in the master bedroom, and—’’ Rafe continued, moving toward the bathroom to show you the bathtub, but you were not listening. 

Moving in with someone is a huge step in a relationship, not something you can decide on a whim. You and Rafe had only been together for a few months, so it felt a bit early to take that step. But then again, everything in your relationship had moved quickly from the start. He met your parents two weeks after your first kiss, and said ‘I love you’ after twenty-six days of dating — yes, you had counted them. 

When Rafe glanced back at you, he noticed you seemed deep in thought. ‘’Is everything okay?’’ he asked, an eyebrow raised in concern. 

You snapped out of your thoughts, shaking your head. ‘’Yeah, everything’s good,’’ you replied, smiling at him. ‘’I was just thinking of all the time it’ll take us to christen our house.’’ A mischievous grin curled on your lips as you walked toward him. ‘’Maybe we should start now. It’s a big house.’’ 

Rafe’s eyes flickered with surprise as he heard what you were implying. He expected you to refuse, to say it was too soon. 

‘’You’ll move in with me?’’ he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. 

You nodded, and a smile curled on Rafe's face. He's never been happier.

—

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