#but she was really nice after that

[copper-dragon-in-disguise]

guess who missed his fucking train (me)

just because my grandparents wanted to get gas

YOU DIDNT FUCKING NEED TO GET GAS YES IT WAS ON THE LOWER SIDE OF THINGS BUT YOU HAD AN 80 MILE RANGE AND THE STATION WAS 15 MILES AWAY YOU COULD HAVE GOTTEN GAS ON THE WAY BACK HOME IT WOULD'VE BEEN FINE AND I WOULD'VE MADE THE TRAIN

sorry. I'm. it's been a day.

[bunnieswithknives]

I feel bad for neglecting Hazel so much, I do have many thoughts about her.. and also a mermaid au that im probably not going to do anything with

[doctorsiren]

I loved your headcannons about inukawa, reigen and reigens sister and I would really like to see what you think would happen if mob and reigens sister met and I was wondering if you could possibly draw them :D

hello yes I accidentally made a comic after seeing this ask yesterday 😁 bro psychoanalyzed her 😨

[konohamaru-sensei]

ah. it hurts

[lunarharp]

bits n bobs..new chapter

[sskk-manifesto]

Bungou Stray Dogs: Dead Apple and how “ability users” (opposite to “normal people”) learning to accept themselves through the acceptance of their own abilities is a queer metaphor of acceptance of own's sexual orientation and gender: an essay by me

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

@goated33 got me thinking-

in some ways, vaggie has the personality and risk assessment capabilities of a small furry animal

meaning everyone in hell THINKS she's the idiot chihuahua, picking fights with the local dobermans, getting metaphorically (literally?) dragged away by charlie for her own good

the twist is she's actually one of those damn weasel things, able to fuck up creatures several times her size and almost impossible to kill normally- yet STILL she's somehow picking fights waaaaay above her weight class

charlie got headaches over this in the early days, i bet. before vaggie simmered down from "don't kill kids wft" to "sinners maybe kinda redeemable actually? not for killy killy stab??"

even now though there's the vibe that, if left alone with alastor and even one less fuck to give, vaggie would be throttling him in seconds flat

this would probably not go well... sadly, once she got started, i could see her probably not noticing or caring much. imagine charlie worrying about this possibility a lot. some nights staying awake, concerned who her girlfriend might pick a fight with next, while vaggie lies fast asleep in her arms, blissfully smiling... likely dreaming of finally getting to stab somebody again like she means it <3

[gay-jesus-probably]

Seeing as the Gerudo turned on Ganon, he might not have been that much better of a ruler.

First of all, we literally have no idea, because the only ancient Gerudo that we actually get to interact with is Ganondorf himself, and he has nothing to say about his own people. The ancient Gerudo sage doesn't count btw, she doesn't have a name, we never even see her face, and she has literally nothing to say except repeating the exact same dialogue as the sages for the other races. The narrative does not treat the ancient sages as people; they are four completely interchangable weapons that are owned by the royal family.

And secondly, I don't care how Ganon ruled them; the Gerudo only get one man every century, if their king sucks, they've obviously got their own system of government to fall back on. I have no idea what kind of authority the sages had among their own people, but honestly I'd say if the four of them were in charge of their respective people, then they were just puppet rulers appointed by Rauru, given that all four of them happily agreed that to sell their entire race into servitude the second Zelda asked them. Say what you will about Ganondorf, but I fucking know that if he was told the Gerudo people existed for the sole purpose of serving the glory of Hyrule, he'd drop kick Zelda into the fucking sun.

And don't get me started on the implications of the cultural differences we see between the independent Gerudo and the annexed Gerudo. The background Gerudo characters all have their own models, and we can clearly see that the ones siding with Ganon have their own unique looks - for example, the amazing lady with the mohawk that summons the molduga swarm in that one flashback. And men are never mentioned in these flashbacks at all, which implies that the Gerudo genuinely didn't care about settling down. Ganon even speaks derisively about marriage, implying that it's very rare for Gerudo women to make serious romantic commitments with men. It implies that their culture is more along the same line as their portrayal in OOT - they are a closed culture. Men trying to force their way into their areas are arrested, and mocked for being entitled dumbasses. Outsiders are only welcome if they can prove that they respect the Gerudo as people, and aren't just there to try and pick up chicks. It's never outright said, but OOT also makes it pretty clear that the Gerudo women just aren't interested in marrying outsiders - close relationships occur with other Gerudo, Hylian men are only considered useful for making babies.

Meanwhile the Gerudo we see serving Hyrule are all trying to measure up to Hylian beauty standards, and appeal to their men. Their one goal in life is to meet a man and get married. Men are welcome in their lands, and only kept out of the town itself... and even then, there's a small army of guys trying to force their way into the town anyways, which is brushed off as just haha, boys will be boys. No men allowed isn't even about independence, it's just a silly romantic tradition.

Of course this is just a fictional culture in a game world, but it's still really fucking uncomfortable that the 'evil' Gerudo are the ones that have independence, both politically and socially, and display a unique culture that refuses to tolerate disrespect from outsiders. Meanwhile the 'good' Gerudo are the ones that canonically exist to serve a kingdom where 95% of the population is light skinned (even setting aside the unfortunate implications, just saying one race exists to serve a different one is super fucked up), they have classes on how to be more appealing to Hylian's, and their entire social structure is built around finding a Hylian man to marry, making them all inherently dependent on the goodwill of outsiders. Even their biggest value of 'women only' is treated as a joke; men trying to trespass in BOTW are just shoved back out the door, letting them keep trying all day if they want. The crowds of men plotting to force their way in are laughed off as a joke. Nobody cares that there's a guy running laps around their city walls and trying to trick women into being alone with him. I mean for fucks sake, in TOTK we find that the creepy guy trying to lure women away has taken advantage of a massive disaster to get into the town, and he's still there once things return to normal. You can't kick him out, or alert anyone to his presence. And the Gerudo just tolerate Hylians blatantly ignoring their boundaries. For fucks sake, TOTK even reveals that the seven legendary heroines they've been revering the whole time were actually completely useless and unable to achieve anything... because they needed the eighth hero, a Hylian man to teach them basic tactics and do all the heavy lifting.

TOTK does not respect the Gerudo people in the slightest. It doesn't respect anyone who isn't Hylian or Zonai.

...This got a little off track, but the point I'm trying to make is, no, I don't consider the Gerudo turning on Ganon to mean anything. The entire game does not feel like the real story of what happened, it feels like the propaganda version of history meant to make Hyrule look as good as possible. I genuinely cannot believe that we're being told the real story about the Imprisoning War, because none of it feels real, and we don't get to know any details that might have made Hyrule look even slightly imperfect. We're told that Ganondorf is evil because he hates Hyrule, and he hates Hyrule because he's evil. The Gerudo people followed Ganondorf and saw him as a hero of their people, then suddenly he was their worst enemy. Hyrule is a perfect kingdom that has strong, equal alliances with the other races, but also all of the non-Hylian races exist for the sole purpose of serving Hyrule, and their leaders are expected to swear eternal loyalty and submission to the Hylian royal family. King Rauru and Queen Sonia united all of the races in peace and equality, which is why they're sitting on the world's supply of magical nuclear missiles, and every member of the Hylian royal family is allowed to walk around wearing them as cute accessories, but everyone else only gets them at the last second, and they all need to outright swear to only use that power to benefit Rauru and his descendants.

There's just so many fucked up contradictions, and so many hints of something more nuanced going on... but the story refuses to acknowledge any of it, and just keeps aggressively pushing the narrative that Hyrule is the ultimate good and couldn't possibly do anything wrong. I don't even believe that Ganon was a bad king honestly; we never hear why his people stopped following him. We also never even see if the Gerudo people turned on him at all; all we know is the ancient Gerudo sage wanted him dead, and given that she also happily sold her people into slavery, she's not exactly the most trustworthy source of information. All we know is that Ganondorf was a hero to his people, only one of his citizens is ever shown having an issue with him (and her motives are never explained), and then he lost the war and was sealed away, leaving his people open to be conquered by Zelda and annexed into Hyrule. By the time we see any Gerudo actually opposing Ganon (apart from the ancient sage), it's been ten thousand years since the war, and all anyone knows is the Hylian version of the story.

[ineed-to-sleep]

*me immediately after going through a terrifying and traumatic experience* haha yeah I guess it was rough but I'm fine now like I'm totally chill. It was kinda funny actually if you think about it

[firehose118]

“We’re just helping each other out on a long shift. It’s not gay,” Sal says into the air of the empty station bathroom as he wraps a hand around Tommy’s dick, and then in the same breath, “No one can ever know.”

Tommy nods, too far gone in the fantasy-come-to-life of what’s happening to dwell on the irony there. He’ll pick that apart later. For now, he has what he’s craved for so long within his grasp, he just has to reach out and take it.

He gets his hand on Sal’s dick in return and revels in the way it twitches under his touch. Tommy wants to moan with how good it feels to touch another man like this, to be touched by one. But he has to pretend this is friend stuff—normal straight guy shit, not the stuff of waking wet dreams—or else it will be taken away from him.

{finish on ao3 or continue below}

Tommy tries to match Sal’s pace: hard, fast, efficient. He thumbs through the liquid gathering at the head, twists his hand on the upstroke, but doesn’t let himself linger—even as his body is screaming for him to slow down and savor it. This might be his first and last chance to have this.

The way Sal is looking right at him is unexpected. He’d thought Sal would look away, pick a tile on the wall and stare at it, pretend this isn’t happening, but no: Sal is in it, studying Tommy’s face in that passive slack-jawed way of his. Tommy keeps his expression carefully neutral but he’s worried even that will give him away.

Sal’s mouth drops open on a silent moan when Tommy’s thumb drags along the vein on the underside just right, so Tommy does it again harder. He wants Sal to like this. He wants Sal to want to do this again.

Tommy is losing focus quickly. Sal isn’t working as hard to impress him, isn’t pulling out different moves to see what he likes, but his hand is big and warm and calloused and masculine around Tommy’s dick and it really doesn’t need to do anything else to have him panting and leaking.

He’s thought about this so many times and the reality of it is even better than he could have imagined. Every bit of energy he’s not using to give Sal the handjob of his life he’s putting into not whining and humping Sal’s hand like a dog.

He takes half a step forward before he can stop himself; needing to be closer. Sal huffs but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t step back.

They’re so close to each other now that Tommy could wrap his hand around both of their dicks and jerk them off like that. He knows it would feel good, wants it more than anything in this moment, but it would be a definitive step over the ‘not gay’ line into territory he’s not sure Sal will follow him willingly. It’s this or nothing, so Tommy chooses this.

“You close?” Tommy asks. He is. He can already feel it rising in his stomach, his balls, licking along his spine. He wants Sal to come first, to hide whatever his own orgasm is going to look like in the mists of Sal’s pleasure.

Sal nods. His face is inches away from Tommy’s and he looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t.

When it happens, Tommy feels it. He doesn’t know why he didn’t expect to—he always feels the pulsing of his own dick as he comes—but to feel another man’s dick twitch and spasm as it shoots warm into his hand has Tommy biting back a moan so quickly he chokes on it.

Sal comes with a low groan and Tommy is helpless to follow. For as long as he’s wanted this—wanted Sal—he thinks he could’ve come from that sound alone, but the way Sal’s big hand tightens on the next few strokes is the last thing he needs to send him hurtling over the edge.

Tommy’s forehead drops to Sal’s shoulder without permission and he keens high in his throat as the pleasure rips through him. It’s easily the best orgasm he’s had in years and he’s instantly terrified of what that means.

He shoves it down. Later. He’ll think about that later.

Tommy pants, coming back to himself, and he gives himself two more seconds of physical contact with Sal before he pulls back completely.

They both lean against the hard tile wall of the bathroom and catch their breaths.

“Good?” Tommy asks, giving a joking half-smile. He knows the answer but it seems like a safe enough way to start talking again.

“Jesus, kid,” Sal laughs. “Yeah. It was good. Where the fuck’d you learn how to do that?”

He grabs some paper towels to wipe his hand off, then gives them to Tommy to do the same.

“Lonely childhood,” Tommy says. It’s true but it’s not the answer. “Dad had a lot of porn mags he’d leave around. I spent a lot of time jerking off. Figured yours doesn’t work too differently from mine.”

That look is back in Sal’s eyes like he wants to say something, but he stays quiet again. He just shakes his head and laughs.

Sal walks towards the door but stops before he opens it. “Give it a few,” he says. He doesn’t look back at Tommy but he has a small smile on his lips still. Tommy takes that as a win.

Sal leaves and Tommy is left alone with the enormity of what just happened. It was good. It was hot. Sal clearly doesn’t hate him, isn’t disgusted by him. He seemed almost… intrigued.

Tommy will sort out the shame and elation he feels swirling inside of himself like oil and water later.

For now, he washes his hands, splashes some water on his face, and gets back to work.

[sweetshelluvaau]

Me here just pretending that Helluva Boss only lasted two seasons and the Mammon episode was the final where Fizz gives Blitzo the crystal, Blitzo tells Stolas to go fuck himself and then works on getting his life together with Loona going to anger management classes because giiiiirl and IMP becomes that found family that they could have been if Viv knew how to writing realistic firendships and didn't have a hate boner for the main lead.

Oh and Blitzo ends up in a polycule with Fizz and Ozzie. Because I say so. Maybe he ends up dating Striker too just because I want to spite Viv.

[sakurapika]

Hua Cheng with Ban Yue: This is gege's daughter, so she is my daughter, too. I will take care of her and treat her like a princess. She's been through a lot. Let's tuck her carefully into this pickle jar so that she'll be safe and protected.

Hua Cheng with Lang Qianqiu: Lol I'm going to turn you into a little budaoweng doll and flick you around. That's what you get for accusing Dianxia of senseless murder. Get your facts straight before you go around causing trouble, you fool.

[junebugdunes]

something soft

[bongo-clash]

Peacock Au Part 2

Okay so!!! Part two of this post about the DPxDC eldritch Danny fic that I'm now calling the peacock au lmao!!!!

(Chapter two of the fic under the cut) (Edit: You can now find part 3 Here!!!)

-

When the feeling of being just slightly dispersed settles onto the outer layer of his skin while he’s lying in bed, Danny knows what’s about to happen.

The thing is, he’s in his pyjamas. Sure, he could just stay in his human form for the summoning- because he’s done it before and it went fine- but he never knows who it’s going to be, and being spirited away to some college students’ dorm in his pyjamas is embarrassing. And sure, having something appear in the circle in the first place is probably enough that they’re not paying attention to what he’s wearing either way, but he refuses to bank on that. So, with a sigh, he allows himself the transformation, his human appearance falling easily away. 

It always feels more natural to be a ghost during rituals, probably because they’re summoning a ghost and not a human, but still, it’s different. He feels that little bit looser, maybe even a little more himself, though he guesses being a bit more glow-y is just nice generally, and the space decals that tend pop up as part of his whole light-show-summons are a homely touch. On the other hand, it does make it harder to take stock of his surroundings when he finally fades into view wherever he is. He can make out vague grey walls and floors, but that’s about it. 

Well, that and the man in front of him. Blond, taller than him if he wasn’t in the air, somewhere past his forties, wearing a beige trenchcoat and looking oddly terrified. Danny can see his hands shaking just a little. Does he know this guy from somewhere?

“Uh, dude?” Danny calls, going for something light. It’s annoying being dragged from the comfort of his own home, definitely, but this guy doesn’t look like some cult member, and if he’s alone and this scared it might mean he really needs the help. Danny can sympathise with doing stupid things in stupid situations. “You good? You’re not looking too hot there.”

He knows he’s using ghost speak, but it feels weird to use English in a summoning like this, and fortunately, Danny spies a translation sigil wrapped around the inner centre of the circle, so he knows it should be translating right back to the guy in front of him. Very handy for language barriers, he’ll admit- and it’s working, too, if the reply is any indication. 

“I was told you could- you could help with the pits?”

His voice is gravelly, and he can’t tell if it’s because he’s nervous, doesn’t speak much, a smoker, or all three. Either way, probably not Danny’s business, and right now he’s just curious about what the man’s talking about. “Pits? That’s kinda vague, man. What pits?”

“The Lazarus pits to, uh, to be specific. There’s a huge one cropping up under Gotham that’s not supposed to be there, and the local- I mean, the locals are getting antsy about it. I… heard you could take care of ‘em.”

Lazarus Pits. He’s heard of those, Clockwork’s mentioned them a couple of times. They’re natural portals that open when enough energy is built up, and end up stabilising into the ground instead of collapsing to help seep ambient ectoplasm into the air. They don’t work as actual portals after that, but it’s vital to keep at least a few around no matter how corrupted they can get through human interference, because it keeps the balance of both realms steady. Having too many around isn’t a good thing, though, and especially not in populated areas. It can cause ecto-contamination, which is a lot more dangerous when you haven’t been around it since birth (or if you aren’t from Amity). 

Speaking of which, it certainly is stinking up the place, now that he’s aware of it. Or maybe that’s just Gotham, he’s heard a lot about-

Hang on. Gotham. Weird potentially magic dude. He knew he recognised him! That’s John Constantine! Danny’s heard of John Constantine! Sam’s got her fingers in enough credible occult spaces that they’re at least vaguely aware of some of his endeavours, but if he’s in Gotham then that probably means he’s doing something for the Batman and, wow, Danny totally would’ve tried to go more professional for this if he knew this was going to be his first encounter with the Justice League,of all things. 

Well, he guesses it’s too late now. At least the guy’s not being too weird about it or anything. “Man, yeah, I’ve totally got the smell stuck up my nose now that you mention it. Do you get that as well? Since, y’know, you’ve probably dealt with a couple ghosts.”

“Uh… no, I don’t think so. But can you fix it?”

Dang, the guy seems stressed about this. Maybe he just doesn’t like being in Gotham territory? He’s pretty sure he’s heard of Batman having a thing about magic. “Sure I can.”

“…Will you fix it?”

Danny figures that if they already know about his status through his Zone maintenance duties, and he’s going to be helping the Justice League, he might as well show off a little bit. Assenting with a hum and trying not to grin, he puts his hands to the floor, and lets his ectoplasm reach out to the source of the smell, sending a flash of light across the ground as it goes through. When it twinges back a response, he closes his eyes, and his energy curls around it, threading through like needles to seams, and pushes it shut with a gentle nudge. Luckily, it hadn’t been around for too long- barely fully formed and not even corrupted by human contact yet- it would’ve be a lot more difficult if it had. 

He lets his hands rise up again after a long moment, looking to Constantine for a reaction. He can’t quite gauge what the man is thinking. “Alrighty, that should’ve done it.”

“Uh… cheers?”

He’s about to say something along the lines of ‘no problem’ or ‘you’re welcome’, but then he remembers he should probably warn him about the aftermath so he doesn’t freak. “The pit shouldn’t come back again, but just as like, a PSA: you might see more shades than usual hovering around for the next while. It shouldn’t be too big a deal so long as you leave ‘em alone, though, so don’t worry about it.”

For all that Danny’s trying to be considerate here, Constantine doesn’t look very considerated. “Can I- uh, yeah, great advice. ‘Appreciate it. But, can I ask just, y’know, what you are? Or not.”

“…Dude, what d’you think I am?”He replies, thoroughly bemused. Isn’t this guy supposed to be one of the League’s paranormal experts or something? He really should be able to recognise a ghost by now. “I keep your Lazarus Pits in check. You know, the pits of the dead?”

Okay, maybe a little rude on his side, but he thinks Constantine’s expression is a bit of an overreaction; he can see the sheen of sweat across the man’s forehead reflecting the light of the sigils. “Fair enough! Forget I asked- cheers for sorting out that pit, though. Uh, don’t suppose you’ll just let me go on my way or anything now.”

“Well, I mean, this was a favour for Batman, right?” He asks blithely, pointedly not paying attention to the way the man’s face keeps contorting. He swears Sam said he was more stoic than this. “I’m gonna go- ‘cause I’ve got things to do- but I guess if something comes up I’ll come to you? Or Batman, since this is his city and all. Don’t worry, I’ll let you know.”

Figuring there’s nothing left to be said, Danny lets the return sigil on the edge of the circle activate and punt him back home, wheezing a half-sigh and arching his back once the wispy image of wherever they’d been recedes. He probably looks exhausted after all that- no matter how recently formed the pit was, it still takes a little strain, and he’d just been about to sleep before he got summoned- but looking in the mirror on his wall for confirmation, he doesn’t find his usual face. Something twinges against where his spine should be, confirming its own previously unnoticed presence in the mortal plane. 

…He didn’t go ghost when Constantine summoned him, he used his true form. That must be why he looked so nervous that whole time! And, man, ghostspeak never translates over quite right in this form, either- the Ancients use a different dialect to original ghostspeak- the man probably wasn’t hearing what Danny thought he was at all. What if the only reason he wasn’t attacking was because he was terrified? What must Constantine have thought of him? 

Crap. He has to fix this. How is he going to find him?

[nias-keca]

miorine!!! miorine she was smiling so you wouldnt be frightened!!!!!!

[yuseirra]

I have a feeling Hikaru would have been the one who's more keen about fashion out of the two