#best pen for writing

[ghostbsuter]

"I can see dead people." He mentions with a shrug, using the chopsticks to fish more noodles into his mouth.

Dick stares at him. "Huh."

"Is that why you help?" He asks, getting more spring rolls.

"Yeah. Once someone becomes a ghost, word gets out quick, and they come to me. Always tatling about unfairness and justice." The kid waves the words around, rolling his eyes.

Dick just pretens to he uninterested, despite his mind racing at the new info. He is piecing past moments together, every shadow leaping away, every note with tips, leads and—

Huh.

"Do you... like it? Doing all that?" Richard approaches thus carefully, brows furrowed at the kid opposite of him.

Danny moves his head, giving a 'so-so' answer. "It's not much to like, I can see ghosts, and they know it and use it. If it brings them to peace or whatever– well, that's just a plus."

Dick stares. He places his chopsticks down and looks at Danny worried.

In turn, the kid sighs. "Sometimes gifts become curses the longer you have it."

And Dick understands.

Mind made up, he throws a pair of keys at the kid, watching fondly as the other catches them with confusion.

"Next time use these, instead of entering through the window."

Danny mock-salutes with a shit eating grin. "Yes, Officer grayson."

[cowboylikeyouu]

writing fanfiction on paper is so fucking therapeutic

[waddles-ex-machina]

some more comic panels I liked :>

[reminiscentrainclouds]

They infect my art history notes once more.

[solarpunkani]

Psst, hey.

Hey you.

Come closer.

Listen to what I'm about to say good and well, alright?

[myokk]

“She’s tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me”😤😤😤

(Regency AU with Eloise and Sebastian inspired by my slow trek through Bridgerton these days & @bassicallymaestra ‘s AMAZING regency inspired art😮‍💨😇🙏)

[uncanny-tranny]

Genuinely, doing things "half-assed" or for a short period of time is generally better than never having done it in the first place.

Writing one sentence is better than none. A minute of brushing your teeth is better than zero minutes. Answering two questions for a homework assignment is better than answering none.

The overwhelming mountain of things can be done peacemeal. You do not have to do it all at once. It is okay to take life in whatever amount you can. The point is to allow yourself the grace to be.

[shorthaltsjester]

you’re telling me the bridgerton writers really said “we’ll have benedict suggest john throw rocks at francesca’s window as a bold declaration of love” knowing full well that eloise was throwing rocks at penelope’s window in season one and had eloise staring longingly after penelope all season and have had eloise essentially always be short with colin and made it canon that as a child she wanted to be a knight with penelope and they said they’d be spinsters together and i’m somehow supposed to buy that she wasn’t in love with penelope? sure

[meadow-roses]

Grace finally gets to have a conversation with Dauntless, face to face :D

Written/full version of the scene under the cut

***

Grace opened the door and immediately froze. 

Felix was standing across the room from her in front of an open window. He was dressed in dark clothes with boots that reached up just below the knee. In his hands he was holding a helmet with a dark visor. 

He turned when he heard the door, and for a second their eyes met. It was only for a second.

“Wait! Dauntless!” Grace shouted, taking a step forwards before stopping herself. She didn't want to chase him.

Felix froze halfway out the window.

“Please…” she said gently. “Just stay. Talk to me?”

He made no response, but she watched his shoulders droop before taking his foot down from the sill and turning to face her.

Even with all she'd put into schooling herself to read faces, she couldn't quite tell what he was thinking. His face was mostly blank, was it resigned, maybe sad?

He just looked at her, waiting for her to speak.

“I'm not going to tell anyone, I… haven't told anyone. I've known for a while now actually.”

Felix tensed and confusion crossed his face.

“What-” he started. “How did you know?”

“Well, I didn't know,” Grace took another step into the room and reached to close the door behind her back. “But I had a pretty good guess.”

He spoke his next question by furrowing his brow and tilting his head.

Grace gave a short laugh. “You're a terrible liar, Felix.”

He bit his lip and looked down at the floor.

“I just wanted to know, why… why didn't you tell us?” 

She gave him a moment to stare at his feet before adding on, “and tell me the truth- please?”

He turned and leaned his back against the wall with a defeated sigh.

“The truth? I… I'm not sure I even know the true answer myself. I guess… I was afraid.”

He looked down at his gloved hands and awkwardly slipped his fingers together in front of him.

“I don't know exactly what I was afraid *of*, just that I was. I wasn't afraid of you guys-” he rushed to add, unlacing his hands and lifting one up to gesture. “-but I was afraid of what would happen to you guys if we were friends.”

“And that's why you're planning on leaving?”

“How did you know I was-?”

Grace shrugged.

“You really think you can save the world by yourself?” she added, crossing her arms over her chest.

“No, I can't save the world. I’m just a mechanic wearing a bicycle helmet!”

“Who also has superhuman abilities and a lot of inside knowledge,” Grace pointed out.

Felix didn't respond. He hugged his arms around his chest and looked to the floor again.

Grace sighed and put her back against the door, mirroring Felix’s pose across the room. 

“It’s not like I can stop you,” she said at last. “You could pick up your helmet and jump out that window and I would never see you again no matter how hard I looked. We both know how well that worked for me the last several months. But I guess- you can keep running away from everything you're scared of and everyone who’s gonna call you out and just stay afraid, or you can stop trying to run, and face those fears. The biggest lie you've ever told is the one you're telling yourself right now that you have to be alone.”

Felix’s face remained blank as his mouth drew into a tight line.

“You aren't alone, Felix,” she continued gently. 

“And if I stay, and they find this place, and they kill everyone here- either the government or the [gang]. I don't-” his voice cracked along with the mask on his face and he reached up to scrub his hand over his face before resuming with wavering composure, “I can't let that happen. I'll still be around, like Dauntless has been, but Felix can't stay here anymore.”

“That’s the stupidest thing you've ever said!” Grace stood up from the door and took a step towards him. “What are you going to eat? Where are you going to sleep? You're basically dooming yourself to get caught by all those people looking to kill you. You should stay, and help us fight! You don't have to pull away to protect us from a distance. Let's work together to make this place safe.”

“I don't want my life to come at the cost of anyone else's!” Felix shouted, arms still crossed over his chest, but she could see he immediately regretted it.

“I'm sorry,” he mumbled.

Grace groaned and rubbed her hand down her face. “It doesn't have to be your life or all of ours. Do you really think we're so bad at protecting this place that you're the reason we're still here?”

“That's not what I-”

“Yeah, the government's going crazy right now. Yeah, the [gang]s are pressing closer. I'm not saying you haven't been helping a lot, but we could be so much more effective if we worked together. We could save more people, Felix. You don't have to go out there and die like some sacrificial dumb-dumb.”

She shook her head and walked across the room to stand in front of him. A breeze came in through the open window, catching her loose curls and sending them waving across her face.

“I know you know I'm right.” She said gently. “And I know you're scared. I'm just asking you to trust me.”

She held out her hand to Dauntless, and hesitantly, Felix took it.

“On one condition. You guys aren't allowed to die.”

Grace grinned and gave him a firm shake. “You've got yourself a deal.”

After an awkward stretch of silence, Felix spoke again.

“So… when was the point- how did you figure it out? That I was Dauntless?”

Grace tucked her arms behind her back with a chuckle. She felt embarrassed all of a sudden, and she wasn't sure why.

“Well, uh, I was talking to Dauntless, and he laughed. It sounded like how you laugh- like how Felix laughs- and it started me thinking. All of the little inconsistencies between the two identities made sense if they had the same common denominator.”

[ad-astra-per-aspera-1389]

Okay, so I don't usually post my fics directly on tumblr (usually just on ao3 with a link on here) but ao3 is down atm and I finished the dbd x mphfpc fic!

Tagging @fellow-fandom-fruitifier bc he asked :)

Um...I'll add what would be tags here:

Fandoms: Dead Boy Detectives (TV), Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (Books)

Not really any necessary content warnings. Just a nice little case without anything dangerous, for once.

Word Count: 2069

The Case of the Lost Boys

Summary: The Dead Boy Detectives find themselves on the island of Cairnholm, investigating the whereabouts of a wandering ghost and his unfinished business.

While London alone was teeming with ghosts with issues to solve, occasionally ghosts brought cases from farther away. Typically, these cases were much simpler than what would, 25 years later, lead them to Port Townsend.

One of these cases, back in 1998, was The Case of the Lost Boys. 

The ghost of a young woman arrived in their office one afternoon. While the case didn’t necessarily concern her directly, she had spent a lot of time with the affected ghost. A young boy, around Charles and Edwin’s age, had been wandering the island of Cairnholm for decades, the woman said. He was looking for something—someone—that just wasn’t there. The woman paid them sufficiently, and Charles and Edwin agreed to take the case.

Mirror hopping led the two detectives through the mirror inside a bathroom, which was attached to a motel room, which was above a tavern. The sheer amount of noise coming from below caused Edwin to simply walk through the wall to get outside, instead of going down the stairs and through the tavern on the ground floor. It was one of several things that freaked Charles out every time Edwin did it. To his credit, however, Edwin was trying to do it less when Charles reminded him of it. However, that didn’t mean he didn’t still forget from time to time.

Edwin walked through a second floor wall and landed on his feet on the ground outside. A few minutes later, Charles was next to him, having taken the long way around. “Mate, you can’t keep doing that! I know you’re fine, but I still forget we’re dead sometimes.”

“Right, my apologies. I’ll use the door next time. I simply didn’t care to walk through such a loud establishment.”

“Next time, we’ll take the stairs and walk through a wall on the first floor, yeah?”

“Agreed. Now, let us track down this wayward ghost, shall we?”

After a bit of walking, the two detectives found the place their client had mentioned the boy to frequent. They had to wait a while, but, sure enough, the boy wandered through the bog and up near the old, previously bombed out house on the far side of the island. Once they were sure he’d stay there for a while, Charles and Edwin followed him up, Charles holding his cricket bat out in front of him.

“Excuse me,” called Edwin, “but we were called because we were told you might need help.”

The boy turned around. He’d been tearing through pieces of the house, searching. “My sister. She was here.”

“When it was bombed during the war?” asked Charles. He hadn’t quite gotten around to explaining the second world war to Edwin, but Charles knew London and other parts of the region had taken a lot of damage. He’d paid some attention during his history classes.

“Yes, but it always reset before anyone got hurt.”

“What do you mean, reset?”

“The bird reset it to the night before the house was destroyed. We would watch the show each night before bed. Then I went out one night, and I died. I can’t get back in. I haven’t seen her in years!” The boy punched a wall, causing chunks of it to fall out. Charles pulled Edwin backwards, out of the house entirely.

“I think he’s lost his mind,” said Charles, once he and Edwin were alone again. The two of them were poring over Edwin’s notes.

“It seems he’s lost his sister, and, though the house was bombed with her in it, he believes she’s alive.”

“He mentioned it all being reset. Sounds like a time loop, doesn’t it?”

“That it does, Charles, but we cannot see it, and therefore we cannot break it.”

“Is that even the problem, though? If he just sees his sister, he’ll move on.”

“That would be quite easy, Charles, if only we knew where the sister was.”

They didn’t even know the ghost’s name, and now they needed to find his sister, too? This wasn’t as easy as they thought it would be.

Charles and Edwin returned to the island the next day, after spending the night in the office reading up on time loops and delirium in ghosts. This time, they used the stairs to exit the tavern, and by the time they reached the old house it was midday. Despite the sun being high in the sky they still couldn’t see very well in the old charred house. Charles pulled two flashlights from his backpack and the search continued.

Eventually, Charles found a hole in the floor. “Edwin, come look at this!”

The boy in question followed Charles’s voice until they were both looking down into the hole. Edwin went down into the hole while Charles stood lookout, just in case the ghost boy made another appearance.

Inside the hole in the ground, Edwin found a trunk of old photos, featuring children doing largely impossible or supernaturally odd things. As he sifted through them, a second light appeared above his head. It was a soft glow, like a fireplace, and Edwin looked up right as Charles called, “Edwin?”

A girl stood next to Charles, holding a ball of flames above the hole to see into it better. Edwin heard her voice echo as she asked Charles, “What are you doing here? Who are you?”

“Stay back,” warned Charles, pointing his cricket bat at her.

“What. Are you doing. In our house?” asked the girl, punctuating each set of words with a few steps forward. Behind her, Charles soon noticed, were a smaller girl, likely about seven years old, and a boy the older girl’s age that gave off a faint buzzing sound if it was quiet.

“We were just leaving, actually.” Charles took a step back.

“Good,” said the girl.

“Emma,” said the younger girl, “we should go before we’re late for lunch.”

Emma grimaced, turning around towards the two that were with her. “I suppose so. The bird will be angry if we’re late.” She cast one last warning glare over her shoulder at Charles, and then the three of them were gone.

Edwin climbed back out of the hole, with help from a rope Charles had in his backpack, and reported his findings to Charles. “It appears to be a group of syndrigasti: a variant of human with an extra soul. These extra souls give them special abilities, such as the boy’s ability to do so much damage around this place, and the girl’s fire.”

“So, his sister must be one too?”

“Not necessarily. It’s a relatively rare condition, however, it is especially likely in this case. If he cannot find her, and neither can we, she’s likely in a time loop for the living. Only syndrigasti can enter, and we are not that.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad then, does it? He can go in himself and find her.”

“Not if he died in a certain way. If the creature that killed him consumed his extra soul, then he can no longer enter the time loop, as he said before. We will need to get the sister to leave the loop temporarily.”

“How do we do that?”

“I do not know. I suppose if we can find another occupant of the time loop, we may be able to get a message across. For that, however, we’ll need more information from the boy.”

“What about that girl, Emma? She had abilities, didn’t she?”

“We don’t know for sure that she lives there, though it is likely. Unfortunately, they’ve gone, and we still do not know how to enter the time loop.”

Later in the day, the detectives found the boy in the same place as the day before. Charles stood by with his bat while Edwin questioned the wayward ghost. They learned that the boy’s name was Victor, his sister’s name was Bronwyn, and that he had, in fact, died in the way Edwin had suspected. 

The one good thing about all this was that he remembered how to enter the time loop. Charles suggested writing on the cave’s wall and hoping they’d see it when one of them left again. Edwin, however, thought it might frighten the children if they saw a note reading “Bronwyn, your brother is looking for you”, considering Victor had been dead for decades.

Instead, Edwin wrote out a neat note and attached it to the wall of the cave:

Bronwyn Bruntley,

I am from the Dead Boy Detective Agency. We were called in about your brother. His ghost is still on the island in the present day. Until he has closure, he will not move on to his afterlife. Victor’s unfinished business is seeing his sister again. Once you receive this, it would help both of us if you could leave the time loop temporarily to reunite with your brother.

Sincerely,

Edwin Payne

Edwin and Charles stayed on the island late into the evening, watching the mouth of the cave for someone to take Edwin’s note. Eventually, the note seemingly disappeared on its own. It moved like it was being removed from the wall by a hand, but there was no hand. It floated through the cave and disappeared through the other end.

Less than an hour later, two girls and a floating hat emerged from the mouth of the cave, each of them able to see Edwin and Charles (or so they assumed). One of the girls, the one that wore trousers and a shirt, asked, “Are you Edwin Payne?” She held the note in her hands.

“I am Edwin Payne. You must be Bronwyn.”

“I am. You found my brother?”

“We did.”

Victor, who had been all but dragged over near the bog by Charles earlier, stepped closer to the girls.

“Wyn?”

“Victor!”

The two siblings embraced so tightly that anyone else might have bruised a rib from it. Edwin and Charles gave them a bit of space for their little reunion, until, eventually, Edwin had to burst their bubble.

“I do not mean to bring down the room, but since your unfinished business has now been finished, Death will be coming to collect you shortly. Therefore, Charles and I must be going, now.” Edwin turned on his heel and began to walk away, Charles shortly behind him. 

Then, the other girl, Emma, called out, “Wait!” and Edwin stopped. He turned back around to look at her.

“Yes?”

“I don’t know if you work with the living at all, but I’ve been looking for a certain boy since the last war. If I give you a name, can you send the results to our post box in town?”

Edwin’s expression softened slightly, and he pulled out his notebook and pen. “Of course. What is the name?”

“Abraham Portman.”

This second, smaller case did not require that the Dead Boy Detectives remain on Cairnholm. The two of them did, however, have to use their disguises that would allow them to appear living. They searched computers and phone directories until they found the man Emma had been looking for.

The two ghosts finally found Abraham’s house in Florida, in the United States. Mirror hopping there was easy. The difficult part was deciding how to explain it to Emma. Abraham was married by then. He had a wife, two children, and his son even had a son of his own. So much time had passed since Emma was this young. Edwin understood far better than he’d have liked to.

Edwin ultimately wrote Emma, sending the letter to the postbox she gave the address to. Charles looked it over for sensitivity purposes, and then off it went. A week later, Edwin received a letter in return, thanking both he and Charles for putting in the effort to help her, even though she didn’t get the answer she wanted. Attached were a few paper bills as payment.

Although Edwin continued to be baffled as to how she was returning his letters, he continued sending them. As it turned out, despite having so many other children living with you, the novelty of a ‘pen pal’, as she called it, was slow to wear off. 

Letters were sent back and forth between Cairnholm and London regularly for a solid twelve years, and then, suddenly, they stopped. Edwin, unsurprisingly, began to worry. That is, until he received a letter from Florida, instead of Cairnholm.

Emma, it seemed, was doing just fine.

[townofcadence]

The first time you change, do you even Remember how to be Human? Do you really really believe you can be again, once you've opened a door you can't close?

[qcomicsy]

Old Deadpool comics are so fun because it's like having this weird close friend group where people kind of all know each other but don't really know each other. Or even like each other that much.

Like Wade has a kind-of-who-knows-at-this-point "Best" friend tech guy who kind of tolerates him and he tolerates that used to be Peter's college classmate. He almost took a gig from Osborn but actually was Bullseye fucking with him in revenge while dressed up in a Clint old suit. He got on a mission with Black Widow. He got beef with Avengers clones to a point the avengers themselves got to be involved. They don't like him he doesn't like them so they both agree to be civil to do the damn mission so everyone can go their own way. He's having a middle age crisis where he kind of wants to quit being a mercenary but he doesn't know yet who the fuck else he could be and all the reasons pointing up to be a hero are wrong and distorted in his own egoistic views.

A hit monkey want to fuckin kill him. The hit monkey doesn't know he's immortal. The hit-monkey never saw him personally but somehow set him up to get his jaw sucker punched by Spider-Man. Which results in the worst team ever for both of them. I sweat to god except from fucking Old man Logan, I've never seen Wade so stressed in working with someone. And while this whole shit storm works, Wade keeps bullshitting about Peter's life being so fucking easy and loved by the public and Peter has to stay there and listen to it. They bump into each other on the subway out of costume and Peter hates him on sight.

Wade doesn't want to be there and the first opportunity to bail on Spider-Man he takes it and Spider-Man on the other hand learns that Deadpool is immortal and kind of gets "Okay what if we let you get shot" and Wade is so offended he starts calling him names.

Wade goes to bother X-Men, X-men tells him to fuck off. Wade considers blowing up X-Men for full two panels. X-Men sends Domino who's kind of one of Wade's friend to fuck with Deadpool, we're convinced by two pages he beat the shit out of her, just to show up on the next pages that he actually made her fall over a bunch of pancakes.

It's so messy, it's so fucking funny because it's not "oh it's this BIG THING" and this "BIG TEAM UP" it's like they're on the same city, they have similar jobs of course they're going to bump on each other.

[thepromisedbride]

i don’t talk about bridgerton on here but just to clarify. i will not be having ANY eloise hate on this account. i will bite.

[iwakuraz]

sorry for posting a thing from art class but does anybody like the first page of the book for my project

[prommethium]

I started reading this book, "Nuestra parte de noche" mainly because of the prose and the horror.

Then, a line made me feel that I have a heart:

"No me dejes solo, haunt me. No había palabras en el castellano para ese verbo." // "Dont leave me alone, haunt me. There was no words in Spanish for that verb."

A husband (Juan) remembering a promise his wife made him while she was alive as he performed a ritual of ashes and blood to hear her again. Her soul has been muted.

[ebthestarryknight]

I'm still trying to figure him out