#he deserves it so badly

[darkcomets]

EEE HAPPY BIRTHDAY IZUKU 🎂🎉💚💚

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker.

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[pidgydraws]

IMO

i make a lot of very fluffy, sentimental, art~ but i need everyone to know just how much i fucking hate these two (adoringly. with all my heart.)

[cherboxishere]

Tristamp memes to cope with whatever the fuck EP11 was

[crosallin]

Goodbye goodbye goodbye you were bigger than the whole sky.

[isolophilian]

i think we need to understand the gravity of how quickly Percy blames himself and his disabilities for the way his world is. how he's been made to believe over years and years that he's weird, that there's something wrong with him. Percy saying he should've been paying attention. Percy saying there's something wrong with his brain. Percy calling himself broken.. he's just a kid man

[sp0o0kylights]

Wayne takes in a Beat to Shit Steve Harrington after Starcourt as n Owed Favor to Hopper Part 4

Part Three: link

First Chapter (parts 1-3 on tumblr) on A03: Link

The kid was madder than a wet hen.

Just as slippery as one too, when he got like this--music pulsing like a living thing to signal all his rage and upset. 

Not like Wayne hadn’t expected it. 

He just wished it wasn’t quite so damn loud. 

The music had started up almost immediately after Eddie had stormed to his room, startling Steve awake and nearly making Wayne curse for it.

Normally it was a good thing--music meant Eds was willing to listen instead of heading for the hills.  

Normally, they didn't have a house guest who looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a bear.

They had a routine for this, was the thing and the music was a key part of it. It worked all the edges off for Wayne, and he'd long figured out that about thirty minutes was a the perfect length of time for Eddie to stew before he could actually talk things through.

Given the hand Harrington put to his forehead, Wayne wasn't eager to give him that thirty minutes.

Not when Steve deserved little peace he could have.

Unfortunately, so did Eds. 

Still.

 Strutting through the door and demanding to talk right now was a bad move and so, with a sympathetic look given to Steve, Wayne did what he did best

Gave space.

Let Eddie rage, as Wayne got up and shuffled about the kitchen.

Pulled out the soft earplugs he pretended weren’t there for Eds to steal (playing that damn loud guitar all the time could not be good for his ears) and offered them to Steve, before making two cups of what Wayne privately thought was the Munson “chitchat” drink. 

One cup of hot water, one packet swiss miss, a small amount of maple syrup drizzled in, topped with little marshmallows they reserved for these types of situations. 

Wayne took his time with it, thinking through what he wanted to say. 

‘I understand that this is a screen door on a submarine kind of situation...’ 

Nope. 

‘Son I know you hate listening to anyone for anything but this is serious...’ 

Absolutely not--that would end up with the boy bolting for sure. 

‘Ed’s, I love you but could we please turn Ozzy off while we talk? That man wails louder than any damn cat I have ever met.’

That one was purely self indulgent, mostly because the wall was starting to shake. 

Wayne put the finishing touches on the cocoa before staring at both of them. 

Perhaps if he stared the Garfield mug in its eyes hard enough, the right words would come through. 

They did not.

He kept trying, standing there long enough for the cocoa to reasonably have cooled and for Eddie’s song to flip over to something with more screaming in it than singing. 

Wayne supposed that this was the hardest part of being a parent. You just didn’t get to have the magical one liner. The right thing to say at just the right time.  

The joke that would ease all the tension and let things progress forward nice and easy.

Instead, you got to fumble your way through the dark with a flashlight up your ass and hope you were going in the right-ish direction. Ideally without making things worse. 

Wayne was here though, and that had to count for something. 

(Knew it counted for something--because Eddie was still here. 

They had cleared hurdles far higher than this when it came to trust. They’d get through this too, come what may. 

Steve too.)

“Can I just ask,” Eddie started, aggressive as always when Wayne finally gave in and entered his room, feeling all sorts of awful for the migraine Steve had to have, “what the absolute fuck is happening?” 

Sure as fire he was sitting on his bed, leg bouncing a mile a minute.

An unlit cigarette hung between two fingers, looking a little chewed on, but otherwise undisturbed--as it should be, because one of Wayne’s few rules was that smoke stayed outside the house. 

“You could.” Wayne said loudly but agreeably, as he turned himself around and dropped down next to his kid.  

Held out the Garfield mug, and was happy when it was taken from him. 

“Figured you might have other things to say, though.” 

Likely a lot of things. 

It was as good an opening as any, and his kid didn’t disappoint, launching right to it. 

“Why is he here and not at a hospital?”

 ‘Here’ was punctuated by Ed’s hand winging towards the door, and while it wasn’t the righteous fury Wayne expected, it was at least, an easy answer to give. 

“Steve has some people looking for him. Bad people. Hospital makes him an easy target.” 

Wayne was still talking loud. Could only hear Eddie himself because he was looking at the kid’s lips more than he was actually hearing his voice. 

Eddie took that in, swallowing it about as well as he’d swallowed anything he hadn’t liked. 

And thank the stars above, he finally reached a hand out and turned the music down. Not a lot--Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them over all this--but enough that Wayne didn’t have to struggle. 

“We’re hiding him from the cops now?!” Ed’s spat. 

“Cops know he’s here. Hopper’s the one who asked me to take him.” Wayne reminded him, because it was the truth. 

Not the full truth, but given how Ed’s pissed off half the local PD on a good day, Wayne absolutely did not want to see his nephew take on Federal Agents.

(Particularly not the kind who were going ‘round killing kids.) 

“So--what?” Eddie yanked hard on his hair, a gesture that looked less intentional and more like he was trying to fight his own anger down. “Hopper just called you up and said ‘Hey, we had a whoopsie with the rich kid, the hospital’s not safe anymore. Can we stash him with you for a few days?” 

Wayne nodded once, slow-like. 

Always remembered how too fast movements had made Eddie flinch and jerk back when was littler, and given the way Steve was looking, figured it was a good time to be cautious again. 

“He did.”

“And you just--agreed? Just like that!?” 

“I did.” 

He pretended not to see Eddie boggle at him at the simple admission, so furious that he seemed to struggle for words when he normally had too many to say. 

Wayne took advantage. 

“We did talk a bit more than that, I’ll admit.”

Ed’s scoffed. “About the weather I’m sure.” 

“‘Bout trust.” 

Eddie blinked at that. 

“Trust.” He echoed flatly. 

“What have I always told you? People like to ask you to trust them, but you they don’t get to have it until--” 

“They provide proof or a reason.” Eddie finished with an eyeroll. “So which did Hopper provide then?”

Wayne took a noisy sip of his coca. Smacked his lips a little before saying: “Both.” 

Didn’t bother to say anything else, because he knew Eddie would finish the thought for him. 

“One of them was me, wasn’t it.” 

Eds didn’t say it like a question, but Wayne hummed in agreement anyway. 

He wasn’t gonna shame his boy, but he wasn’t gonna sugar coat Eddie’s involvement in this either. Not when he’d already admitted that was half the reason Hopper had gone to Wayne to begin with. 

“No one is expecting Steve to be here.” He said, seeing the chance to hammer home the most important part of this entire shitshow. “So long as no one finds out he’s here, he’ll be safe. Everyone will be safe.” 

Steve from the Feds who were hunting him for while he was busy being involved in shit he couldn’t control and Eddie because he had a mouth that most people didn’t like. 

Not small town people anyway, and absolutely not authority figures with guns. 

“Who’s even after him?” Eddie was theatrical as always, hands waving away as he talked. “Did he make a deal with the mob? Piss off some other rich guy? I know it’s not anything drug related, I’d have heard about it by now.” 

After years of experience, Wayne knew exactly how far to lean away to stay out of range, too used to his nephew talking with his entire body.

“That’s his story to tell ya, Ed’s. It ain’t mine. Same way it ain’t my place to tell him your story.” 

That at least got the boy to think for a minute. Put down that frustration he carried with him all the time, and use the brain they both knew he had. 

“How long is he staying here?”

Wayne shrugged. “Don’t know.” 

Eddie sighed and mockingly mimicked Wayne, taking an obnoxious slurp of his cocoa. “The neighbors are going to notice if he’s here more than a few days. The trailer park isn’t exactly big.” 

“They didn’t notice that time you decided to make fireballs with the cooking spray and about blew up half the driveway. Don’t think they’re gonna notice someone being quiet in the house.” 

Eddie snorted, and probably rolled his eyes again, not that Wayne could see it given the kid was looking into his own mug as he thought it all through. 

Wayne sat with him as he processed. 

Eds worked at his own pace with things, and while life at large might be against that, Wayne was happy to let him do it. Found it easier that way, then trying to poke and prod and force him like so many father figures did. 

Wayne’s patience was rewarded not even a full minute later, when Eddie turned to him and asked; 

“What if he finds out?”  

This in a quieter voice. An unsure one--words and body hunching in a way unlike the Eddie the world outside knew, but very much like the little boy Wayne had brought inside his home. 

It took Wayne  a moment to connect the dots--he’d been speaking out of the place parents and authority figures often do, and in doing so hadn’t thought much of the fact his nephew had a real secret. 

The kind small town minds didn’t like--and would kill him over. 

This all wasn’t about Wayne taking in Steve, he realized abruptly.  It was that Steve being here meant Eddie couldn’t be himself. 

Could not relax in a place he was accepted for who he was, because Wayne knew and made sure Eddie understood he was wanted here, had a place here, regardless of who he loved. 

Now, Wayne had gone and removed it.

‘Shit.’ 

“He won’t.” Wayne said. 

Knew that wasn’t enough, and so, promised: “But if he does, I’ll make sure he understands his safety here relies on your own.” 

Ed’s chin jerked in a nod, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before the boy did as he often did when he wanted a hug but felt too awkward to ask for one, and tipped himself into Wayne’s side. 

“Thanks old man.” Eddie whispered into his shoulder and not for the first time, Wayne wished things were easier for the poor kid as he put his mug in one hand and hugged his kid with the other. 

Hoped that in the future, it would be.

Even if he had to force everyone and everything coming after him--and now Steve--to do it.

(Wondered vaguely, how bad it was that he was already getting as protective as Steve as he was of his own kid.

Probably very, given his kid clearly hated Harrington.)

xXx

Wayne took the first night of Steve’s stay off.

He wasn’t the type to use his PTO lightly. Was used to rationing it for any possible thing Eddie might need him for.

A night up sick when he was younger, to a night spent chasing him down during some of their bad spots--but the last year or so Wayne had slowly realized he hadn’t had to use it much.

He was still careful with it though, precious as it was, and was thankful for it now as it ensured his nephew didn’t murder their house guest. 

Or at the very least, didn't sit there pecking at him.

The kid might've failed English a few times, but he had a real gift with words and an even better one with insults.

(Wayne wasn't quite clear on what all the "King" jabs were about, and absolutely did not get why Steve looked far more hurt at the comment about his "sad ass floppy hair" but given the increasingly flat look Steve was throwing Eddie's way, Wayne figured it couldn't be anything good.)

Thankfully a pointed reminder about Steve's injuries had finally gotten them all some peace, enough for Harrington to drop back to sleep--and for Wayne to realize he looked a little too dead while he did it to be comfortable getting any sleep himself.

The kids chest barely moved, and that it ate at Wayne’s until he got up and shoved a hand under his nose. 

Felt his breath, and told himself the poor sod was fine. 

Hurt, absolutely, but alive. 

Over and over again, until the sun had made its rotation in the sky, bringing the morning with it.

‘Better than nightmares, I suppose.’ Wayne figured, as exhaustion scraped at his eyelids.

Those Wayne knew, would come later. When Steve’s brain caught up to the rest of him, and stopping dumping survival chemicals through his battered body. 

He'd given up on sleep entirely sometime around 1 am, and now he sat at his small kitchen table, writing out a medication schedule for Harrington so he and the kid both knew when he could have his next Tylenol. 

Wasn’t even halfway through it before Eddie made his typically late appearance and blew through his door. 

Had his back up from the moment he’d stepped a foot in the kitchen and it didn’t take a genius to see he’d worked himself into a snit again.

Unfortunately for him, whatever scenario that imaginative brain of his had cooked up fell flat to the reality that was the poor kid on the couch. 

Steve Harrington was one a hell of a sight.

Didn’t help that he was doing his level best to make himself as small as possible, curled deep into Wayne's ancient couch.

The blankets covered the ribs and hid away most of the damage, but there wasn’t much Steve could do to hide the shiners on his face--or the marks around his neck.  

Not when they’d grown worse overnight, practically inviting questions.

It was almost laughable how quickly Eddie ate whatever words he’d prepared, mouth awkwardly chewing around them as if they were tangible. 

The less-than-sneaky looks he threw at the younger teen were equally amusing, and if Wayne wasn’t trying to peace keep, he’d have given in and chuckled when Eds split attention caused him to pour half his coffee into the sink rather than a cup. 

Looked utterly lost when, after finishing putting his coffee together and grabbing some junk food thing that absolutely was not a breakfast item, he came to stand awkwardly at Wayne's shoulder, openly staring as Steve blatantly ignored him.

Eds didn’t know what to do, and Wayne couldn't blame him. 

Seemed to keep thinking he was going to encounter a boy that likely no longer existed, and whose blood tinged specter just made things sad.

Shit like this, Wayne knew, took a man’s ego and warped it, shaping it to something else entirely. 

At least for Steve, it seemed that getting wrapped up in whatever mess he had had shaped him for the better, instead of pretzeling him into something worse. That, Wayne thought, spoke to the boy's character more than anything he’d done prior. 

(It helped to know what Hopper tolerated and what he didn’t. That he’d vouched for Steve in the same way Wayne knew he’d vouched for Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t yet realize the cop he antagonized so much would do that for him.) 

That didn't erase the history his kid had with Harrington, though.

Wouldn't stop him from seeing the old Steve, first.

‘Don’t you got school?” Wayne asked when he decided Ed had stared enough. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved him off, trotting out the door. “Bye old man, house parasite!” 

It was clearly a jab, meant to nettle, but Steve barely acted like he heard it. 

Wayne rolled his eyes. 

“Goodbye, Eds.” He said firmly, much of a warning as he ever gave, and fondly watched his nephew scuttle out the door. 

Turned to see how Steve was taking things, and was once again given a reminder that Steve wasn’t doing a hell of a lot other than feeling his injuries. 

“I think I promised you a game, son.”  Wayne said gently, startling Steve out of the distant, dim look he had trained on the wall. 

It wasn’t a lot to offer in terms of a distraction, but it would have to do.

[birdiedoesdc]

if i think about jason todd too hard i have to throw up and die

[respectthepetty]

Episode five and six of Happy of the End dealt with the aftermath of the death of Keito's Haoran's mother, so this Black Brooder is completely dark now.

He sits in the dark contemplating his life and how much he hates it.

And even though Chihiro brings light to his life (as well as food), Haoran remains dark.

However, Chihiro is the perfect person to lift Haoran out of this darkness because no matter how shitty Chihiro's life is, he continues to be colorful.

His family has disowned him. He gets fired from his job. Yet he is still light.

Kaji, who he considers a friend, is rude to him and belittles his relationship with Haoran, yet he stays light.

And that's why when he gets the slightest indication that Haoran needs his help, he quickly reaches out to him.

He takes Haoran from the dark into the light as they walk around the city from the night into the morning.

He gives him a gift, not only of warmth in his moment of coldness.

But also the gift of color.

And because of this one moment of warmth in Haoran's cold existence, this moment of light in Haoran's dark life, this moment of color in Haoran's black world, he believes he can die now. Is it because he has finally had a moment of joy? Is it because he thinks he will never experience it again?

It isn't clear, which isn't a problem because either way Haoran has settled into the idea that death is a suitable outcome, but Chihiro is more than willing to die right next to him, which is a problem.

Because Haoran doesn't want Chihiro to die. He doesn't want to dim Chihiro's light. He wants Chihiro to live.

And that's what gives Haoran the will to live.

Haoran isn't living for himself anymore because he isn't alone anymore.

He still has the darkness.

But he doesn't seem to be afraid of the light the way he was before. He tells Chihiro he likes him. He tells Kaji they are boyfriends.

He cries because he realizes he has something to lose, but that also means he has something worth keeping.

So even though his darkness pops up when he argues with Chihiro because he hasn't revealed his past,

Once Chihiro appears next to him in his confrontation with Maya, that color reemerges.

And he finally bares his soul and body to Chihiro and tells Chihiro how truly dark his past was.

And a shift happens.

For the first time since Haoran was a child, he is light.

Even as he is forced to run away from Maya again, he has someone to run with him. Even though his world is still dark, he sees the light.

So it's no surprise that Maya decides the easiest way to bring Haoran back into the darkness is to kill the light.

[noperopesaredope]

Me: Ooooo, I wonder what this "Mouthwashing" thing is that everyone's been obsessed with lately. I should check some of it out.

Me, 30 minutes later: I would kill myself for you, Anya.

[little-star-library]

Not trying to be horny or anything, but I like to daydream about Astarion resting his head on my chest and he feels so completely at ease and he’s safe and warm while listening to the sound of my beating heart that holds all the love I have for him.

[coffee-obsessed-freak]

Stanley as like the fae kid that was supposed to be swapped with Ford but their mom saw Stanley and was like, "My kid now" and fought tooth and nail to keep BOTH of them.

The twins growing up excluded and estranged from the rest of the community but Ford gets treated better by school staff because he's the "brainiac" of the two.

Ford may be book smart, but Stan is NATURE SMART. He sees the little tingles of magic in the air, can smell the earth and it's inhabitants, can will nature to do one thing or another for him- he always has flowers to give to his mother, hand-grown by him somewhere in secret that even his twin brother doesn't know about. He's always got that calling that tells him that he should walk barefoot in the dirt, call to the birds in birdsong (he thinks to himself that it isn't possible, but instinct tells him otherwise), speak to the plants and trees tenderly, gently. Because they hear him, and they know him.

He's loved (as loved as he can be, at least), but he is lost. He doesn't feel like he should be there, that he should even stay there. He ignores this, but that feeling persists even after he's thrown out of the house. It persists when he's in the city, when he's on the run all the time from everyone. The only time the hurt is soothed is when one time, he lays down on the dirt ground underneath a tree because he has no money to pay for a hotel room, and it's the safest he's ever felt.

So imagine he gets called to Gravity Falls by his brother and- oh. Oh.

The trees, the critters, the creatures. They welcome him, they speak to him, they approach him- not in that angry way people do sometimes, but also not in the way people will sometimes look at him with a certain level of dazed relaxation brought about by his fae nature. No, they look at him like he was one of them- like he's home.

And something inside of him sings because this is right, this feels right. He's home, like he'd never been before.

[teyrnacousland]

The whole thing with Lucanis being plucked up into a found family and becoming a happier healthier person for it are great but it makes me almost bitterly jealous on behalf of Illario. I think that guy would really flourish by having a group of friends (and maybe a lover). Imagine it. Imagine a version of Illario where he was appreciated and valued and given the attention and love he needed and deserved. I have no real coherent or interesting thoughts to add here all I have is this overwhelming need to give Illario friends.

[ganondoodle]

( elden ring dlc spoilers )

(sort of personal rambling post about my feelings about it, not looking for lore discussions)

its so obvious to me that base game radahn and dlc radahn are two entirely different entities really

one is a nigh mindless mess of what remains of a respected and once, and still in a way, very powerful general, like a tragic memory of what once was, even in this zombie like condition you can get an idea of who he was, even if only a little bit, the way he fights in synch with leonard for example

the other a recreation of him but like it was made by someone who didnt know him at all, shallow and surface level, either unintentionally so bc he really didnt know him well (and didnt care to get to know him) or intentionally made into somethign that fit miquellas IDEA of him, who he wanted but not who he really was, it shares name and design traits, to some degree fighting style, but it lacks "him", he has no voice, no shift in expression, he does whatever miquella wants, a perfectly obedient, silent, animated statue (even more obvious in second phase ...)

i mentioned it in a previous post but even his changed designed feels strangely off, basic elements are there (red hair, yellow eyes, golden lion theme) but it lacks cohesion (imo), like an action figure not a real person, its shiny and cool looking but doesnt make sense for him, he even has the sixpack armor thing, and overall a roman aesthetic to him, mulitple braids in his hair (a trait of miquella), useless swords hang around his waist, arms exposed, overall incredibly thin compared to base game radahn (be it just the armor or not), like designed by someone who has no or little idea of how swordfight works, almost .. childishly cliché

and yes, the fact that leonard is entirely missing is significant in my eyes, he is very important to radahn, its one of the few things we actually know about the real radahn, but miquella probably either didnt know or doesnt care, he doesnt care about leonard, of course he isnt here

"promised consort", promised by who to whom? if miquella, perfect little miquella, says it is promised to him, it has to be true and good and no one would would dare suggest hed lie (i dont think radahn would like that title either, ...like even his title in the end isnt about who he really is)

its all about what miquella wants, his perspective is told to you over and over- what radahn wants, his perspective, what he believes in doesnt matter, radahn doesnt matter, the only thing that matters is how he can serve miquella, how this idealized, silent puppet that is nothing of himself apart from basic design traits and name obeys miquella

by rot or by miquella, just a mindless toy whenever you see him

and it just makes me sad and angry ......... its tragic but so much so that it borders on cruelty for crueltys sake, it was never about radahn :(

[unversedremnant]

king mickey concept except i ignore mickey mouses original design and make him my own while still retaining some iconography (the musical)

bonus: HES GONNA SAY THE THING

[trashcansienna]

Autism be damned, my ex god of death can work a grill. (An old screenshot from my cotl game)

(What I love most about this is how it's at night. While everyone is asleep these two dorks are up hanging out)