#but i have precious little of both

[emry-stars-art]

I can already tell I'm not *actually* going to go back and fix up/finish these so. Here, I brought you some doodles 🤲

Find the mer aus masterpost here 💕

[noxcheshire]

I just think

It’d be really neat if Danny looked more like Martha Wayne than Thomas Wayne.

LIKE

I love the Danny Fenton looks like Thomas Wayne or Danny Fenton is Thomas Wayne reincarnated — but the BEAUTY of Martha??

Of Alfred interacting for under five minutes with Danny, dabbing his eyes and going, “That is indeed Martha,” I WANT IT. I want Martha who was spunky and sassy and wanted to do good for her town the same way Danny wants to do good for Amity Park.

I want Martha who loved to take Bruce and the family out to star gaze because her baby had never seen the stars before, and the way his eyes light up like a mini galaxy takes her breathe away the same way that Danny feels when he turns his head up to the sky yearning for something he knew loved but doesn’t know what.

I want Martha who would literally find trouble in a paper bag because she can’t help her curiosity the same way Danny can’t help tripping over his own ghostly tail and making a mess of things before he figures things out.

I want Martha who would fight men who thought they held power, going absolutely feral from stress the same way Danny does when he’s tired of not being able to do his homework or pick up a vacuum against the wall to clean because ghosts.

I want Martha who loved the pearl necklace that Bruce had picked out for her birthday, and Danny reaches towards his neck and startles when his fingers only touch skin when he is certain there was something supposed to be there. I want Danny whose eyes linger on whites and pearls when he passes by open window stores in the mall, fingers itching to flick a nail against the smooth surfaces.

I want Martha who died bleeding underneath the hand of a gun, hoping to everything above that her boy would be safe, and Danny whose body burns at merely looking at the makeshift guns his parents create in the lab, his heart pounding desperately with a yearning to save there was someone she wanted to save the ghosts.

[ruporas]

[ TW: child harm ]

collection of old drabbles

[lunarin64art]

That feeling when he can't stand to see you that way, no matter what you do, no matter what you say😩😭💔

[purplecelestial-buddy]

It's so funny to me that the fandom has come to see Hirano as a Sasamiya promoter of sorts because while he is, it took him some time to get accustomed to the idea of them together. And while he was never a hater Sasaki's actions towards Miyano certainly used to get on his nerves.

At first he was so worried and probably even felt a little guilty because (as mentioned in the following screenshot) because the only reason why Sasaki knows which class Miya is in, is thanks to him.

But like, that's not the face of a friend that's happy to play cupid and get their two acquaintances together. Not at all, that's the face of someone who puts his sempai-kouhai relationship with Miyano over his (pseudo) friendship with Sasaki.

Hirano from the first chapters would have jailed Sasaki if he were allowed to. (And he has his reasons, Sasaki has been something since the first chapters)

Anyway, the progression of events is really interesting.

He started, quite literally, shielding Miyano from Sasaki.

Then, he came to accept their relationship.

And at the end he really was rooting for them, to the point he ended up outright lying just so Miyano could meet Sasaki and they could talk it out and confess.

[sissytobitch10seconds]

Calypso isn't that bad, you guys are just mean.

[shidoukanae]

Hello to the Buddyfight fandom it's been a hot minute but god do i miss this show and have been making fanart for it in the background so i thought i'd post to tumblr too ^^

I swear every year I end up coming back to this show and wishing that it kept going, that it got rebooted, that i could just erase my memories of this show and just watch it all over again from the beginning to enjoy everything once again from Tasuku's own sense of justice twisting against him to Gao's suffering of PTSD and how heartfelt it was handled.

There's something very special about this show that I haven't been able to find replicated elsewhere. It has the most perfect world to exist (so much so that i'd love to be isekai'd into it if i could!!!) and while i have my own gripes with it (hi S3+) i honestly sometimes wish i could go back to my high school years of watching this show just to relive it all again :'D

Anyways!!! I hope there's still people out there who enjoy this show even ten years later who'll like seeing new funny artwork for it!

I wanna add too that i'm hoping to create a rewrite of FCBF (ft. seasons 1-3 + Ace) or at least create more artwork for my interpretation of it and its world!

Because, sincerely, this show is one of the few that, for all its flaws, hasn't disappointed me in the years that've followed unlike many other things i've seen and i wanna try to keep the spirit of it alive while I can thanks to that. And if there are any fans still in existence who love it, i wanna provide some food while its once again in my orbit because damn do i adore this show <3 <3 <#

[unriding]

EVIE !!!!!

I SAW U USE MY ART AS UR THEME SO I WANNA DO A REMAKE !!! mostly cause the other one was full of mistaks hurrrrr orz

keeping the color palette the same so itd still fit + use softer shading so convey how soft u are + moze is now IN UR HAND !!!! >:3

oh nick :’)

[devildom-moss]

Stolen kiss with poly Mc/13/Satan? Odd combo I know but I feel like it works. 13 and Satan seem the type to make a big deal out of 'competing' over Mc but get soft with each other as well behind closed doors.

"Odd" combo? That's a weird way to spell "magnificent." I did a whole 2 part threesome headcanons prompt with just the ideals. Y'all could throw almost any ship at me and I could work with it, but this one anon, you're onto something. I love the strange and unusual.

1 year anniversary flash request event - SFW

(Satan x Thirteen x gn!MC)

Prompt 8 – Stolen kiss

Something happened this morning when Thirteen surprised you and Satan at school with unnecessarily sweet coffee drinks and pastries from Madam Scream’s. She even asked them to shape the whipped cream like a cat. You thanked her with a kiss arguably sweeter than the drink, and some unspoken war was waged between Satan and Thirteen.

When Satan asked you to check his lab report, and you leaned in over his shoulder to get a look at his work, he kissed your cheek, which resulted in a squeal from Asmo and a mild explosion at Levi’s workstation.

On your way to the student council room to deliver a set of documents to Barbatos, Thirteen snuck up behind you, wrapped an arm around your shoulder, and placed a soft kiss on your cheek – taking care to leave a lip gloss mark on your skin that you didn’t notice until Barbatos pointed it out with a smirk.

While you were there, Lucifer asked you to sort through some of the suggestion and complaint forms with him, which kept you busy for a half an hour until Satan came by looking for you. You hadn’t even noticed him walk in. Satan tapped his Devildom Biology textbook on your head before dipping down under the book and stealing a kiss. When he pulled away, he had a smug grin on his face. “Study session, remember?”

You looked over at Lucifer, who had the tips of his fingers pressed to his temple. “Can you have some decorum for fucks sake? Fine. Go on. I’ll finish up by myself. You’ve helped enough. Thank you. I won’t stand in the way of your studies. I suppose it’s good to see that at least two of you are taking classes seriously.”

You wanted to make some comment about his snarky response, but you figured you’d escape while you could.

During lunch, Thirteen feigned disappointment that you had wiped off her kiss mark. She pouted and mumbled, “I was going to share some of the strawberry candies I bought the other day, but if you don’t even want my kisses. . .”

“You want me to walk around all day with your lip gloss on my cheek?” You rolled your eyes. “With all the gossips around campus? I want your kisses. I just don’t want it to be everyone else’s business. How would you like it if everyone knew that you let Satan hook a leash onto –”

Thirteen cut you off by clasping a hand over your mouth. Her face burned and she looked around, anxiously. Her annoyance only grew when she felt you smirking against her hand. She groaned. “If I give you a candy, will you shut up?”

You nodded. Thirteen reached into her bag and pulled out one of the candies, she unwrapped it, but instead of popping it into your mouth, she put it into her own and leaned in to kiss you. She pushed the candy into your mouth with her tongue and pulled back. “Happy now?”

Heat rose in your cheeks as you sucked on the candy. Too stunned to speak, you simply nodded.

When it was time to head home, Satan was waiting for you, leaning against a tree and reading a book. You called out to him, “Ready to go?”

“Yeah.” Satan marked his page and shoved the book back into his bag. You turned and started towards the path, but before you could get two steps away, Satan interjected. “Wait, MC. Before we go. . .”

You turned to look at him. Satan stepped towards you and captured your lips in a soft kiss that lingered. Suddenly, you heard rustling in the leaves above.

“I saw that!” Thirteen exclaimed. You and Satan pulled apart, startled and shocked to find Thirteen hanging upside-down from one of the lower branches. Her face was level with yours and her hair fell in a soft mess of loose waves.

“W-why are you up there?” you asked.

“For fun, but also. . .” Thirteen hummed and stretched her arms out to pull you closer. She kissed you sweetly with a soft sigh. “. . . for that.”

Satan scowled and tilted your gaze back towards him before kissing you again. You could hear Thirteen huff.

“You jealous little –” she cut herself off. “Do that again. I dare you.”

“What are you going to do about it, little reaper?” Satan smirked.

Thirteen wasted no time adjusting herself so she could pull Satan in and kiss him with a passion unsuitable for being right outside one of the main RAD buildings. When she pulled back with a chuckle you noticed how red Satan’s face was. Thirteen’s lip gloss was ruined – and half of it was all over Satan’s mouth.

He cleared his throat, embarrassed, and mumbled, “Do you want to go home with us?”

“Definitely.”

For as much trouble as they had both been all day, when you saw Satan leaning back in Thirteen’s lap, resting his head on her chest while he read and she played with his hair, you couldn’t be anything more than pleased.

[fairycosmos]

indi the german shepherd and emma the pitbull

[yikes-ajax]

Thinking about modern fantasy where teens having blackouts and restlessness take shitty online quizzes trying to figure out if they're a werewolf. It's always either you've been cursed by hircine or you got repressed trauma. There's a whole discourse in the werewolf community about people who aren't werewolves insisting they are, or people coming up with horrible at home ways to be turned into one (curses, potions, rituals, etc.).

[kyros-tha-soldier]

[mariocki]

Shadows of Fear: Repent at Leisure (1.5, Thames, 1971)

"Poor Robert. Do you remember what the doctor said? He'd never seen such an advanced cirrhosis in someone so young. He had a liver like a Strasbourg goose."

"Occupational hazard."

"How'd you think that made me feel? It isn't very flattering for a wife to play second fiddle to a wine list."

"I'm sure it was no reflection on you."

"All the same. I hardly changed the pattern of his life, did I?"

"No... but you're asking Harry to make fantastic adjustments. From galley to, uh, captain's table."

"You're a terrible snob, Peter."

"Oh, I am. So are you, my pet. That's what frightens me."

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 64

Chapter; Highlights

Hours later, Yrene was still shaking.

At the disaster they'd narrowly avoided, at the deaths she'd witnessed before that wave had struck, at the power of the queen on the plain. The power of the prince who had prevented the ensuing steam from boiling alive any caught in its path.

Yrene had thrown herself back into healing during the chaos since. Had left the royals and their commanders to oversee the aftermath, and had returned to the Great Hall. Healers drifted onto the battlefield, searching for those in need of help.

All of them, every single person in the keep or the skies or on the battlefield, kept glancing toward the now-empty gap between two mountain peaks. Toward the flooded, decimated city, and the demarcation line between life and death. Water and debris had destroyed most of Anielle, the former now trickling toward the Silver Lake.

A vision of what would have been left of them, were it not for Aelin Galathynius.

She'd been asked to inspect the queen when she'd been carried in to a private chamber by Prince Rowan, the two of them borne off the plain by Nesryn. Yrene hadn't been able to stop her hands from shaking as she'd hovered them over Aelin's unconscious body.

There had been no sign of harm beyond a few already-healing cuts and slices from the battle itself.

Nothing at all beyond a sleeping, tired woman.

Who held the might of a god within her veins.

Yrene had then inspected Prince Rowan, who looked in far worse shape, a sizable gash snaking down his thigh. But he'd waved her off, claiming he'd come too near a burnout, and just needed to rest as well.

So Yrene had left them, only to tend to another.

—

To Lorcan, whose injuries ... Yrene had needed to summon Hafiza to help her with some of it. To lend her power, since Yrene's had been so depleted.

The unconscious warrior, who had apparently tumbled right off Farasha as he and Elide had passed through the gates, didn't so much as stir while they worked on him.

That had been hours ago. Days ago, it felt.

Yes, she needed to rest.

But a horn, clear and bright, blared from outside.

Everyone halted-then rushed to the windows. Yrene's smile grew as she, too, found a place to peek out over the battlefield.

To where the rest of the khagan's army, Prince Kashin at its front, marched toward them.

Thank the gods. Everyone in the hall muttered similar words.

From the keep, an answering horn sang its welcome.

Not just one army had been spared here today, Yrene realized as she turned back to the water station. If that wave had reached Kashin.

…

Lucky. They had all been so, so very lucky.

Yet Yrene wondered how long that luck would last.

If it would see them through the brutal march northward, and to the walls of Orynth itself.

Lorcan let out a low groan as he surfaced from the warm, heavy embrace of darkness.

"You are one lucky bastard."

Too soon. Too damn soon after hovering near death to hear Fenrys's drawl.

Fenrys's smirk was a slash of white.

"You've been out for a day. I drew the short stick and had to look after you."

A lie. For whatever reason, Fenrys had chosen to be here.

Lorcan thumped his head back on the pillow. "Elide." Her name was a rasp on his tongue.

The last he remembered, they'd ridden through the gates, Aelin Galathynius's unholy power spent. Then oblivion had swept in.

"Helping with the healing in the Great Hall," Fenrys said, stretching out his legs before him.

Lorcan closed his eyes, something tight in his chest easing.

"Well, since you're not dead," Fenrys began, but Lorcan was already asleep.

Lorcan awoke later. Hours, days, he didn't know.

The candle was still burning on the narrow windowsill, down to its base. Hours, then.

He didn't care. Not when the dim light revealed the delicate woman lying facedown on the end of his cot, the lower half of her body still on the wooden chair where Fenrys had been. Her arms cradled her head, one outstretched toward him. Reaching for his hand, mere inches from hers.

Elide.

Her dark hair spilled across the blanket, across his shins, veiling much of her face.

Wincing at the lingering ache in his body, Lorcan stretched his arm just enough to touch her fingers. They were cold, their tips so much smaller than his. They contracted, pulling away as she sucked in a sharp, awakening breath.

Lorcan savored every feature as she grimaced at a crick in her neck. But her eyes settled on him. She went still as she found him staring at her, awake and utterly in awe of the woman who had ridden through hell to find him ...

Tired. She looked spent, yet her chin remained unbowed.

Lorcan had no words. He'd given her everything on the back of that horse anyway.

But Elide asked, "How do you feel?" Aching. Exhausted. Yet finding her sitting at his bedside... "Alive," he said, and meant it.

Her face remained unreadable, even as her eyes dipped to his body. The blanket had slid down enough to reveal most of his torso, though it still hid the scarred-over wound in his abdomen. Yet he'd never felt so keenly naked.

It was an effort to keep his breathing steady beneath her sharp-eyed gaze. "Yrene said you would have died, if they hadn't gotten to you when they did."

"I would have died," he said, voice like gravel, "if you hadn't braved hell to find me." Her gaze lifted to his. "I made you a promise."

"So you said."

Was that a hint of color stealing across her pale cheeks? But she didn't balk. "You said some interesting things, too."

Lorcan tried to sit up, but his body gave a burst of pain in protest.

Elide explained, "Yrene warned that though the wounds are healed, some soreness will linger."

Lorcan gritted his teeth around the sharp stab in his back, his stomach. He managed to get onto his elbows, and deemed that progress enough. "It's been a while since I was so gravely injured. I'd forgotten what an inconvenience it is."

A faint smile tugged on her mouth.

His heart halted. The first smile she had given him in months and months. Since that day on the ship, when he'd touched her hand as they'd swayed in their hammocks.

Her smile faded, but the color on her cheeks lingered. "Did you mean it? What you said." He held her stare. Let some inner wall within him come crumbling down. Only for her. For this sharp-eyed, cunning little liar who had slipped through every defense and ironclad rule he'd ever made for himself. He let her see that in his face. Let her see all of it, as no one had ever done before. "Yes."

Her mouth tightened, but not in displeasure.

So Lorcan said softly, "I meant every word." His heart thundered, so wildly it was a wonder she couldn't hear it. "And I will until the day I fade into the Afterworld."

Lorcan didn't breathe as Elide gently reached out her hand. And interlaced their fingers. "I love you," she whispered.

He was glad he was lying down. The words would have knocked him to his knees. Even now, he was half inclined to bow before her, the true owner of his ancient, wicked heart.

"I have loved you," she went on, "from the moment you came to fight for me against Vernon and the ilken." The light in her eyes stole his breath. "And when I heard you were somewhere on that battlefield, the only thing I wanted was to be able to tell you that. It was the only thing that mattered."

Once, he might have scoffed. Declared that far bigger things mattered, in this war especially. And yet the hand grasping his ... He'd never known anything more precious.

Lorcan ran his thumb over the back of her hand. "I am sorry, Elide. For all of it."

"I know," she said softly, and no regret or hurt dimmed her face. Only clear, unwavering calm shone there. The face of the mighty lady she was growing into, and had already become, and who would rule Perranth with wisdom in one hand and compassion in the other.

They stared at each other for minutes. For a blessed eternity.

Then Elide untangled their hands and rose. "I should return to help Yrene."

Lorcan caught her hand again. "Stay."

She arched a dark brow. "I'm only going to the Great Hall."

Lorcan caressed his thumb over the back of her hand once more. "Stay," he breathed.

For a heartbeat, he thought she'd say no, and was prepared to be fine with it, to accept these last few minutes as more of a gift than he'd deserved.

"Say it," she whispered, fingers stilling in his hair. Lorcan opened his eyes, finding her gaze. "I love you."

"Yrene said you might always have this," she said, her hand mercifully falling away.

"Then it will be the scar I treasure most."

Fenrys would laugh until he cried to hear him speak this way, but Lorcan didn't care. To hell with the rest of them.

Another one of those small smiles curved her lips, and Lorcan's hands tightened in the sheets with the effort it took not to taste that smile, to worship it with his own mouth.

But this new, fragile thing humming between them ... He would not risk it for all the world.

Elide, thank the gods, had no such worries.

None at all, it seemed, as she lifted a hand to his cheek and ran her thumb along it. Every breath was an effort of control.

Lorcan held absolutely still as she brought her mouth to his. Brushed her lips across his own.

She pulled back. "Rest, Lorcan. I'll be here again when you wake."

Anything she asked, he'd give her.

Anything at all.

Too shaken by that soft, beautiful kiss to bother with words, he lay back down.

But until then, he wanted her here. Sleeping at his side, where he might watch over her. As she had watched over him.

Elide seemed to read that on his face, and her cheeks reddened further. "Later, then," she breathed, limping to the door.

Lorcan sent a flicker of his power to wrap around her ankle. The limp vanished.

A hand on the knob, she gave him a small, grateful nod. "I missed that."

He heard the unspoken words as she disappeared into the busy hall.

I missed you.

Lorcan allowed himself a rare smile.

[zuala-bear]

Happy belated Birthday to our first cryo dude!

[ratatatastic]

"i like that but i dont want to hit it too hard... gotta protect barky at all costs" "i found one already, ill take this one too. im taking it to the locker room tomorrow to show barky" hmm