#he counting this as a date

[finalsquidmissile]

My boy is scared shitless but he's going anyways

READ

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 102

 Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. In for ten seconds, out for eight. Alright. Okay. “Let me get this straight,” he didn’t motion to the three teens- or not teens even if two apparently looked like they were- but it was a close thing. “You-” 

 Phantom perked up, white hair flickering with what he was pretty sure were stars as they turned away from the window looking out into space. “-are two years old.” The fae-esque being who looked more like a fourteen year old gave a half-distracted nod. Which, for a toddler, they were paying attention pretty well. 

 “You-” Klarion looked up from where he was fiddling with the cuffs that had been on him, cat sprawled on his shoulder now that it was out of the carrier. “-are six?” Another distracted nod, the apparently-child seemingly enamored with the sounds the cuffs made when they clinked together. 

  “And you-” He turned towards Marvel, who shrank back before seemingly steeling themself. “-are in fact ten.” The… well they had thought demigod but apparently all three were some sort of realms-being, which had apparently made Constantine pale and start cursing before stomping out of the Watchtower. Another nod and shaky thumbs up. 

 Alright. Okay. They had in fact let a ten-year old join the league, which wouldn’t have been so bad if they had known. Especially the fact that apparently Marvel was only half-human, which suddenly explained so much about how he didn’t know so many things about a human life. Which-

 “You,” he turned towards Phantom again to make sure he was listening before returning his attention to Marvel. “And you have both lived at least a year in the human realm with human companions, but your-” He turned his gaze towards the ravenette in the center. The six year old apparently. “-experience with the human realm is literally just with the Light.” 

 Yet another distracted nod. Okay. Bruce was tempted to scream in a room for the entire situation that had cropped up from the single action of taking Klarion’s familiar and then the boy himself into custody. Then again, it was honestly a much better thing they had apparently caught this. 

 “Alright,” he sighed, suddenly feeling incredibly exhausted. “To make sure I have all of this correct-” Because it was already a shitshow and the amount of shouting had absolutely spooked the child. To the point he’d- according to Marvel- made what was apparently some sort of very distressed noise that had made both him and Phantom running. Or rather flying and portaling. 

 “-in the realms, people there make friends through fighting,” Bruce pauses to make sure he got that part correct. The origin of this entire misunderstanding with the chaos-lord. Lordling? 

 All three nodded, Klarion losing interest in the cuffs and starting to pet his cat. Familiar. Everyone had referred to it as a familiar and Marvel had appeared utterly horrified that they had taken said familiar away. Somehow he was the one the trio were currently trusting and weren’t doing the same towards any of the other league members. 

 “And you have been trying to make friends with the Jr team, which they have been taking as an attack due to this miscommunication.” Honestly they should have gotten more information, though he couldn’t exactly blame any of the teens, what with everything they were currently dealing with. 

 “... is there any sort of guardian or something you might have, that can be contacted? Or anyone that could help prevent a situation like this from happening again?” All three avoided his eyes, suddenly finding things like the table and walls very interesting. 

 Oh. Hm. This could be a problem.

[notbecauseofvictories]

I'm rewatching leverage out of nostalgia and some other emotion I haven't figured out yet, and I do think there's a story in "Maggie Ford Collins deals with having the most unhinged ex in her suburban book group, learns to hotwire a car, and gets her groove back, not in that particular order."

[sharpbutsoft]

a bisexual is forever, not just for christmas!

[gay-otlc]

The people who think gay trans man have straight privilege because they have the "option" to "escape" homophobia and live as straight women are blatantly disregarding the fact that for a lot of trans people, the options aren't "gay trans man" or "cis straight woman." It's "gay trans man" or "dead."

[sincericida]

ANDREW GARFIELD and AMELIA DIMOLDENBERG

in the "Chicken Shop Date".

(source)

[izzystizzys]

Half the jobs Fox is sent on are not within his jurisdiction. This certainly isn’t.

Planetary protection unit, they said. Military police. Orbital security force.

And now Fox is being pointed at Count Dooku on some backwater planet and told to fetch. How the mighty have fallen.

He’s pretty sure Kenobi, Skywalker and their units could’ve karked this all up perfectly fine on their lonesome; they don’t need three Guardsmen there to watch them do it. But the Chancellor says jump and Fox surpressed the urge to bash his head in with a durasteel chair. So it goes.

Which is when things start going terribly, terribly wrong, of course.

“Is that Spinder?!”, Skywalker exclaims, arms wheeling out in the air wildly to try and catch his balance. “The Count fucks?!”

Across the room, Cody rips his helmet off, several shades redder than a baseline human should be. “The Count fucks my brother?!”

Two lightsticks hover uselessly in the air, Skywalker’s zig-zagging in a relentless hum with his gesturing. Fox stands stock-still, in the hope that maybe he’ll spontaneously turn invisible if he does. Around them, 501st and 212th troopers gape through helmets. Behind him, Nuisance gasps for air amidst screaming laughter.

Ping, went Fox’s comm unit, in that unmistakeable lascivious jingle sound. Ping, answered Count Dooku’s within a split second. Match found close by.

For a moment, Fox considers what it would be like to run at the Count’s lightsaber at full speed.

…not like that.

“Count”, Kenobi says, with a face like he’s bitten into a rotten fruit. Not that Fox knows what fruit tastes like. “This is a highly… unexpected development.” He fwoosh-es his lightsaber shut, obviously having given up on fighting. “I’d call it a conflict of interest, but I’m not sure that applies?”

“Oh, it’s gonna be a conflict of something, for sure”, Cody hisses, fists clenched at his sides. He looks about ready to boil over, with Crys and Waxer inching closer in preparation. “What have you done to my brother, you monster?!”

“I don’t think you want to know that, Commander”, Nuisance gasps out between barks of laughter, proving why he’s eternally Fox’s least favourite. Cody’s splotchy red complexion slowly fades into ghostly white as a sheen of horror settles over the room. “Thanks for the fancy chocolate bouquet last week, Count!”

Dooku, who has been thus far staring at the floor with an empty thousand-klick stare, looks up at that. Fox has seldom seen a man that defeated outside of the mirror, he has to admit - but shudders when he remembers exactly what the chocolates were for.

Oh Force, he’s sexted Count Dooku into buying him gifts. Does that make him a Seppie spy? Traitor by proxy?

“I feel”, says the Count, gravely, still holding his long red laserknife in a white-knuckled death-grip, “that I have been taken for a fool.”

“Uh”, says Fox, nervously. All eyes snap to him. Oh Force, oh Force, oh Force. They’re going to invent a whole new kind of decommissioning for this and name it after Fox.

“Is it really scamming if you actually get what you pay for?”, asks Grids, considering. Fox slowly pulls off his helmet just for the comforting feeling of burying his head in his gloved palms. The sounds of a struggle ensue, and Kenobi makes a choked-off noise. Maybe if he’s embarrassed enough he’ll give himself an aneurysm.

“Grandmaster, why are you paying people for naked pictures of themselves on the holonet?!” Kenobi asks, despairingly. “Aren’t you a little old for that?”

“Oi, no one said I was naked!”, Fox exclaims, head whipping up.

“So naked”, Nuisance laughs, palm thumping against the floor. He might be crying.

“I’m not decrepit”, the Count blusters, and Skywalker makes a gagging noise. “I have - there are needs, and they are perfectly natural!” It takes three troopers to restrain Cody from launching himself at the Count.

[a11eya]

kirishima does the thing where he lifts up the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face and you nearly flatline

[three-realms-archive]

Love Me, or Not?

Satan sat alone, in a forest far, far away from the House of Lamentation. He sat slouching, his back against an oak tree for support, surrounded by ripped and torn roses. Hissed, aggressive, angry mutters left his lips.

“Love… Not… Love… Not…”

A small crowd of cats also sat on and around Satan’s lap. They peered up at what the Avatar of Wrath was doing; at his fingers, bloodied and cut from the roses’ thorns. With their feline stare immoveable, their eyes judged.

“They love me… Love me not. Love me… then love me not.” Satan continued to mutter, with increasing desperation. “Loves me… Not?! Not?!?!” He roared as the penultimate petal was plucked off, shifting into his demon form and clawing at the de-petaled rose until it was nothing but tatters of stem and leaves hidden amongst the blades of grass under him. The cats continued to stare, and judge, and stare.

“Are there really no other words in this stupid ritual?!” He growled, violently whipping his head around to find the book he had brought with him. ‘A Woman’s Guide to Romance’, written by a human in the 1800s. He frantically flicked to the relevant page, scanning the walls and fences of text to find something - anything - he had missed about how to do the ritual. Maybe a loophole to add on a petal? Maybe this book was too old? But in Satan’s mind, two-hundred years wasn’t all that long - so the writing inside must still hold up.

Or, at least, that’s what he had thought before he had gotten ‘loves me not’ on two-hundred of these stupid roses.

He hadn’t even heard of this game before you, even with all his reading up on the three realms. He had walked in on you gently picking off the petals of a daisy in the RAD courtyard and had approached you, inquiring as to what you were doing. His eyesight still got slightly blurry at the sight of you and his pact mark on foreign skin, the power of the pact still very fresh. It had only been a few weeks, after all. If anything, it was better for you to stay far away from him with such power - such wrath - under your control and yet… You had stayed. Calmly, as if teaching a child, you had explained the premise of the ritual, with Satan doing what he did best: learning. He had learned about how to do the ritual; that some do it for closure, and others for self-assurance; that you did it every time you had a crush.

He also had learned what your favourite flower was, and had briefly imagined him presenting you a bouquet. He had learned that your laughter reminded him of bell chimes, that your scent reminded him of his favourite tea and that your giggles reminded him of a cat’s purr.

And, after what seemed like hours of you talking and him listening, he hadlearned that he loved the way it felt to hear you talk with your head on his shoulder. He had learned he loved to look at your face when you talked. He had learned that he loved to look at your lips talking, pursed and pretty and so soft-looking -

… He had learned a lot that day.

He had learned you had a crush and had relished in your smile when, on your first try, your final petal had been ‘he loves me.’ Then he texted you later that day; and learned that your crush had five letters in his name.

Quickly, he had researched forests with an abundance of flowers and went to the one that would be the furthest away from the prying eyes of his brothers. If he could replicate your result, he’d have definite proof. Proof that it was okay to act on these feelings that have been eating away at him for so long.

But now, two-hundred destroyed flowers later, things were looking bleak.

As he looked down at the mess around him, Satan thought of you. As pretty and as delicate as a rose; as kind, strong and persevering as the flowers too beautiful to deserve a life in the Devildom, but continued to thrive regardless. You: the flower too beautiful to deserve the fate of being torn to shreds by the Avatar of Wrath, like the roses around him.

… Suddenly, a buzzing in his pocket.

He took a deep breath, seeing the message on his D.D.D was from you.

> heyyyyyyyyy, Satan <3

> hehe this cat looks like you hehe

A picture popped up of you snuggling up to a demon cat, not minding the its tiny horns pressing into your cheek. Instinctively, he reached up to lightly touch his own horns. His breath hitched. If you were alright with horns - with the monstrous side of him - then maybe…

Resolute, Satan stood up and dusted himself free of flower bits with one hand; using the other to type out a response.

> It looks adorable. Where are you? I’ll come see it in person.

He paused, before adding:

> I have something I need to tell you.

Why should he let the flowers decide whether you loved him not?

He could get the answer from you himself.

(another attempt at romance, and sappy romantic satan is always fun. there’s a brief reference to that chat where he asks who you would date and i was chortling because man that was bold asf, actual props to him. he strikes me as someone who would research and prep for all scenarios beforehand, then kick his feet like a teenager under the covers of his bed when mc responded.)

[gncrezan]

the established orion-romance dreams have gotten to me. what will my delusional visions reveal to me next <3

[alien-slushie]

I'm sorry, but is anyone else flabbergasted that, as far as Deruth knows, his "drunk" 18 year old son randomly brought home and man one night and just kinda...kept him?

Like, Deruth, honey, why did you not question that?

Like, I get it: "it's a story and blah blah blah it doesn't matter in story or in the plot!", but realistically if my child brought home a random man while hammered I would be very concerned.

[isogenderskitty]

people who’ve only seen hatchetfield: starkid has like practically no gay characters :/

the avp trilogy which has been sitting right there for probably most of their lives and is the foundation of everything:

plus these less explicit more headcanony (but like, BARELY) examples that i really think are worth mentioning as well, i have receipts don’t tempt me i will literally make an entire video about this stuff (and i might actually):

[tango-but-everywhere]

step into my office…

etho, season 10 episode 10

[ID: a minecraft screenshot from hermitcraft 10, taken in etho’s froglight shop/frogger game. the viewer, etho, is sitting on their chair in the ‘office’ while tango is perched on one of the opposite chairs. he’s in full diamond except his elytra, and holding a slime ball. he’s looking at etho but turned to the right slightly. etho’s hotbar is visible at the bottom of the image. end id]

[sage-nebula]

It happened, as things so often did, like a bolt from the blue on one of Pacifica's rare days off from work at the diner.

It was the height of summer and so hellaciously hot, even for—no, especially for Oregon. Having lost access to the private pools and yachts after her father's investments into Cipher capital during Weirdmageddon four years prior, Pacifica found herself at the Gravity Falls community pool, lounging on a pool chair after layering SPF 50 on her skin, and silently telling herself over and over that it was always morally correct to block her parents' numbers on her days off, and that her father probably hadn't yet found where Pacifica's pet rescue opposum, Susanna, had hidden the bell yet, so there was no need to worry.

(Pacifica had rescued Susanna from the diner kitchen two summers ago, when she was fourteen. Susanna was technically a male oppossum, but something about him reminded Pacifica of Lazy Susan, so Susanna he was.)

But it was at that moment that deep laughter followed by a higher pitched "shut up!" and even more laughter from both voices broke through Pacifica's inner mantras. She opened her eyes to see that both of the Pines twins, having once again made their yearly visit to Gravity Falls, had also chosen to visit the pool that day.

Pacifica swallowed hard.

For all that she had tried to deny it even to herself in her tween and early teen years, by now Pacifica had long since accepted that she found Dipper Pines attractive. It was impossible not to, with the way he came back taller each summer, his shoulders increasingly more broad as he grew into the physique promised by his great uncles (or his Great Uncle Ford, anyway), a little stubble that he "forgot" to shave always left around his chin, and his sideburns. Oh, his sideburns. Pacifica hated how much she loved Dipper's sideburns. It was beyond cringe, and the only other living soul who would ever know about her crush was Susanna, but Pacifica Northwest did indeed have a crush on Dipper Pines. She knew, and accepted, this about herself.

But then, on that hellaciously hot summer day at the community pool, Mabel Pines took her sweater off right in front of Pacifica's eyes.

Mabel pulled her sweater up over her head, and it was as if time slowed down. Mabel's arms were just as toned and strong (if not maybe a little more toned, the way the sunlight hit her muscles) than Dipper's. She had been wearing a bikini under her sweater—a pink one decorated with stars that fit her perfectly—and her thousand watt smile revealed she'd finally gotten her braces off to reveal a set of dazzling teeth. And when she tugged her hair free from her ponytail, it swished around her in a cascade of long, brown waves.

Dipper had thrown his tanktop onto a pool chair, and Mabel followed suit, throwing her sweater and hair tie on top of Dipper's shirt. But as Dipper was in the middle of saying something (they were too far for Pacifica to hear clearly), Mabel whipped back around with devilish speed and shoved him straight in the pool.

Mabel laughed uproariously as Dipper came back up for air, sputtering water and shaking his sopping bangs from his eyes. But he was only off guard for a second, and Mabel's mirth kept her off hers for longer. Dipper grinned wickedly and snapped his fingers around Mabel's wrist, yanking her in headfirst after him. Just as Dipper had before her, Mabel resurfaced immediately, though she had to use both hands to shove her curtains of damp hair out of her face. But her smile was just as impish as Dipper's own, and within seconds they were splashing each other, shrieking and laughing as they caused the biggest ruckus the pool had seen all day.

And as she watched them play, the water making their skin glisten and their smiles making their eyes sparkle, Pacifica felt a swarm of butterflies in her gut and a flash of heat in her face that had nothing at all to do with the summer sun above. She curled in on herself in her pool chair, and tugged her sun hat down over her face.

"Oh no."

[gutiuniverse]

Wind: For the millionth time, Tetra and I are just friends. Spirit: *sneezes* Spirit: Sorry, I'm allergic to bullshit.

[sincericida]

«Out Friday :)» - Amelia Dimoldenberg tt