#he sees the type of person you are

[meirimerens]

the bickering habit

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji goes to Lotus Pier (No relation to the AU of the same name)

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[jesuistrestriste]

bf!art donaldson is the type of guy to start bawling when you play him a song and tell him that you want to dance to it together at your guys’ wedding someday. . .

you play ‘fade into you’ one (1) time and then he’s crying into your neck and kissing your skin and mumbling about how lucky he feels to be able to love someone so deeply and wholly — down to his pathetic, tender core.

he’s already got engagement ring designs planned in his head.

only the best for his forever doubles partner ♡

[saltpepperbeard]

is this anything

[crabsnpersimmons]

I can't help but love how u accessorize the dca boys~ but for the have you eaten au, have u thought of giving each of the dangle earing the boys wear a utensil? Like a fork spoon & knife lil accessorie?

aww thank you, sweet anon!

let's see what the boys think:

Moon: oughhhh but wouldn't it be cute? i would love a little spoon! or stars! or konpeito! or or--

Sun: The added accessories would affect our signal.

Eclipse (thinking about all the piercings he would get if he could get them)

Eclipse: sadly, these are just magnetic clip-ons. We only really wear them when we go out because some of our older clientele don't approve of them—a little too punk for them. They barely even approved of seeing robots in the restaurant, but at least back then we had Boss to vouch for us.

so basically the three DCA boys may have separate bodies, but their code requires them to stay within a certain distance to one another—which wasn't a problem when they still worked at their old pizzaplex.

but nowadays, sometimes they need to go a further distance (for example, two of them stay at the restaurant while one goes shopping). in that case, the earrings serve as a signal extender so they can run their errands (legitimately, i looked up wi-fi extenders as inspiration for the earrings 😂 that's why they all consist of bars of some sort)

Eclipse wears his the most often because he likes to go out sometimes and be alone. Moon will wear his often because he likes the dangling parts. Sun wears his the most sparingly because he doesn't get out much, so he sees no reason to wear them if he doesn't need to go out (so if you ever see me forget to draw his earrings... it's usually on purpose... usually)

[vaperarmand]

something that drives me super crazy forever and always is the “do you want to hear my story?” / “yes. yes!” exchange. like, daniel is in every way a hostage of that situation. he’s going to say he thinks armand is interesting! he’s going to agree to anything armand presents to him because he’s hoping armand will show him just a little bit of mercy. i think armand must know this, even though he’s asking these questions out of desperation rather than some test. it’s not an uncommon thing to armand, the vampire who likes the hunt. likes to have humans as his mercy the way he has daniel. but i like to think that, while daniel agreed because he felt he had no other choice, he also agreed because it was the truth. armand can read minds and he thinks that’s awesome. daniel wants to hear his story because he thinks armand is interesting, and he wants to hear the stories of people he thinks are interesting. i like to think that armand took a peek inside daniel’s mind, expecting to see nothing more than fear and survival instinct. he sees those things, but more than that he sees truth. genuine curiosity. daniel, given the choice, would want to know him. that’s why, for a moment, he gives in — tells daniel his first memory. that’s why, to armand, he’s so fascinating.

[khaopybara]

❝Let's go talk somewhere else.❞

FIRST KANAPHAN as KANT PATTANAWAT and KHAOTUNG THANAWAT as BISON episode 4 of THE HEART KILLERS

[orviposition]

"yjh is crazy about kdj" i say into the mic.

the crowd boos, calling me a yaoibrained fujoshi with no reading comprehension skills.

"she's right," someone yells from behind the crowd. we all look in the direction of the voice in unison. it's singshong themselves

[fatedroses]

Two tanks without their emotional support healers.

[shotmrmiller]

gaz x disinterested reader is probably him ingratiating himself with everyone in your inner circle until you bow to social pressure (you don’t)

but your friends/parents/teachers do. now your professor is grabbing you by the arm like by the way your boyfriend is here and he's brought a gift!

he's having dinner with your parents cuz he helped them out at lowe's. (if you talk to em. gaz will 100% woo grammy into feeding him just so he can be as close to you as possible)

and your friends? one pretty ㅤsmile their way and now you're being harassed with questions like why aren't you talking to him? i'd kill to have someone look at me like he does you!

(are they seeing the same guy you are? his gaze lingers as his eyes widen, pupils dilating like to pissholes in the snow. are his fingers twitching?) <- he's just a very hungry man standing in front of a sumptuous feast ok he doesn't mean to look so intense

and at the end if you really don't give, then the door that keeps you from him will. nothing one solid kick or two won't fix. you don't have to like him but you will get used to him because he's going nowhere.

he'll fix your door in the morning but for now it's best he stays to keep you safe 😌

[cryptiidclown]

deimos rick and morty bong.

[medi-bee]

isat pokemon au, my liege?

my rambling in tags

[t00thpasteface]

patron request for hawkahy with a Live Trapper Reaction. i leave the precise interpretation of that expression up to you

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) Drowning in formaldehyde (Pt. 1)

—

Tw: one instance of canon-typical violence (DC), vivisection mention

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Prologue) - (Pt. 2)

(Subscription post/masterlist)

—

Danny has been working for Mr. Cobblepot for over a month now.

The first few weeks he was in the Penguin’s company, he couldn’t do much of anything. Instead, Mr. Cobblepot made sure that he was well-rested and beginning to recover.

Danny cried a lot in the first week that he was there.

He cried when he ate for the first time in years; the GiW had kept him on IVs and a feeding tube, so they wouldn’t have to move him from his surgical table.

He cried when he was given his own room to stay in, when he was brought clothes to wear, when he was given a bodyguard to protect him.

He cried when Mr. Cobblepot’s doctors told him that the damage to his vocal chords was likely permanent, and that he would never sound the same again. That he would find it hard to speak at any volume above a whisper.

Apparently, he had a lot more damage to him than he had thought.

The doctors said that the scarring in his brain stem suggested his entire brain had been removed and had regrown. Danny couldn’t really disprove that, and it did line up with a pretty substantial gap in his memory, but if that was the case then why couldn’t his voice recover too?

The scarring and incredibly new tissue that showed up in scans of several other parts of his body suggested that the GiW had done the same thing with most of his organs, as well as a few limbs, and all of the fingers on his right hand.

Danny could remember that. He just didn’t want to.

Perhaps it was the feeling of pity that kept Mr. Cobblepot so understanding of Danny’s slow recovery. That didn’t really matter much, though; Danny’s energy was focused on keeping his place here, ensuring that Mr. Cobblepot didn’t decide he was no longer worth the effort.

As it turned out, there was an easy enough solution to that.

Danny was the only one who knew how to properly operate and modify the weapons and inventions stolen from the GiW.

And so, Danny had a niche he could occupy. He could be useful, useful enough that Mr. Cobblepot couldn’t get rid of him, even if he wanted to.

And, as it turns out, Danny remembered quite a lot of the theories he heard while he was on the cutting board.

As soon as he had enough muscle control of his arms to do so, he was working away at the machinery created by the GiW and his parents.

No, not his parents.

Doctors Madeleine and Jack Fenton.

Regardless of their creators, he was able to understand them quite intimately.

Maybe it was because the ectoplasm flowing through the weaponry was his own, maybe it was because he had nothing to listen to for three years other than the excited chatter of his vivisectionists as they cut him open. Maybe it was because they were both simple weaponry without a purpose.

Danny found working on the machines soothing in a way that nothing else was.

The smell of oil and grease, the sounds of mechanical clanking and metal joints squealing, the feeling of cold steel beneath his fingertips.

The first thing he did to the machines was replacing the paint, from shiny white to a matte black. That way, they were recognizable as his own modified creations.

It was only a bonus that he didn’t catch his reflection in the metal surfaces this way.

Still, his reflection was starting to become more familiar to him. It was still strangely off-putting to see, but his face was beginning to plump out from consistent eating, and his skin was beginning to lose its unhealthy pale tone, going back to a more natural pinkish color.

His eyes still looked devoid of life, but that could be ignored as long as he didn’t look at himself for too long.

Danny sighed, leaning back in his chair as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He was working on modifying the ectoblasters so that they could properly hit humans, as per Mr. Cobblepot’s orders.

He probably should feel some sort of moral conflict over it, but really, Danny couldn’t find it in him to care. Maybe it was some sort of deep internal flaw, or maybe it was because he knew that they wouldn’t be shot at anyone without blood on their hands. Either way, he didn’t have any qualms with what he was doing.

As Danny reconnected the circuitry within the gun, the indicator lights on the side of the muzzle blinked to life, a familiar neon green.

Danny would have to change that color too, he thought. Maybe red would be nice instead, or an icy blue?

He was pulled from his thoughts by the door to his temporary workshop opening. Danny looked up, and smiled when he saw that his bodyguard was the one standing in the doorway.

The man, known only as Derringer, was 6’2”, built like a tank, and known for his love of unusual firearms. He was also a big fan of card games, and had been teaching Danny how to play Blackjack during their meals.

He gently closed the door behind him, strolling into the workshop.

Danny hopped out of his seat, hugging the man tightly. Derringer laughed, patting Danny on the back as he clung to him like a koala.

“Good to see you too, kid,” the man said, his deep voice rumbling in his chest, “you just about done in here?”

Danny nodded, letting go of the bodyguard. He picked up the gun on the desk, handing it to Derringer, and pointed to the target resting in the far corner of the room.

Derringer glanced down at Danny, shrugging before aiming the gun.

He pulled the trigger, and a large scorch mark appeared in the center of the target.

Derringer whistled appreciatively, walking over to inspect the damage.

There was a deep dent in the center of the metal target, around an inch in diameter, and a large scorch mark surrounding it. The metal of the dent was white-hot, and the area around it was somewhat warped.

“That’s real nice, kid,” Derringer said, “don’t know how you do it.”

Danny grinned, baring his teeth at the man. He smiled back, ruffling his hair.

“The boss is gonna go forward with the Arkham raid soon, so long as your guns are ready,” he said, “he’s eager to try them out for real. You think you’re up to talking to him?”

“Yes,” Danny signed, nodding to the man.

“Good,” Derringer signed back.

Mr. Cobblepot, not wanting Danny to be limited in his speech by the damage to his vocal chords, had ensured that all of the people who interacted with him knew at least the basics of ASL.

When he wasn’t working on the ectoblasters, Danny was practicing his ASL with a dedicated tutor, or with Derringer, who learned the language when his mother had gone deaf.

“Can I eat first?” Danny signed, “I forgot to.”

“You forgot, or you didn’t want to leave your work?” Derringer asked, signing as he spoke, the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement, “and yeah, the boss wants to talk to you in thirty minutes. You’ve got plenty of time before then.”

“Thank you,” Danny signed, “let’s go.”

“Hey, just a sec,” Derringer said. His face had dropped into something unusually serious.

Danny nodded, tilting his head as he signed a quick “what’s wrong?”

“You’re a good kid. Even after what you’ve been through, you’re…you’re a really sweet kid,” Derringer said, looking away. “But you…you can’t keep being sweet to everyone. You gotta act tough, alright?”

“Why?”

“You just…” Derringer sighed, combing a hand through his thick, curly hair, “a lot of the guys think that you’re too weak to be here. They’re calling you the Penguin’s pet project, and the problem is that they’re not really wrong. You gotta be scarier to survive, alright? Gotham’ll eat you alive if you don’t. Just make up a persona and roll with it.”

Danny nodded slowly, processing his words for a moment.

“Like a mask?”

Derringer laughed, a bittersweet smile on his face.

“Yeah, like a mask. Just don’t start fighting crime while you’re at it.”

“Okay,” Danny signed, his movements slow. “I can do that.”

“Good on you, kid,” Derringer said, ruffling his hair once more, “now let’s go get lunch.”

The two of them ate quickly, Danny’s mind on Derringer’s advice the entire time.

He was right, and Danny knew it. He’d seen the way that some of Mr. Cobblepot’s men had looked at him.

He wasn’t anywhere near big enough to pull off the looming intimidating look that Derringer did; his doctors back in Amity had told him that he would grow to be over six foot, but his time in the GiW seemed to have stunted his growth significantly. He was only around 5’6”, and it seemed that he was going to stay that way.

In the same way, he wasn’t nearly frightening looking enough to pull off the terrifying stares of the smaller individuals working under Mr. Cobblepot. He just couldn’t get the glare right; his face would always fall back to a blank, dead stare.

Though, maybe if he played into that…

A few minutes before they had to leave, Danny excused himself to go to the restroom. He stared into the mirror, looking into his cold, dead eyes, and let his face drop.

When he adjusted his stance, and kept his eyes a bit wider than usual, he looked downright unnerving.

Danny had already noticed that most of his mannerisms were…unusual, after his stay at the GiW base. Put simply, he had forgotten what it was like to be a human.

He had noticed that most of the people around him would avoid being in his presence, and had begun mirroring their body language as much as he could to seem more normal.

Maybe, though, it would be better for him not to.

He could lean into the whole thing. An unstable young adult, experimented on by the government for years.

Danny looked into the mirror, and wide, icy eyes stared back at him.

Danny left the restroom. Derringer turned to greet him, jolting when he did. After a moment, he nodded.

“That what we’re going with?”

“Yes. Is it good?”

“Yeah. Freaky. Gonna take some getting used to, but yeah. Now,” he said, getting up from his spot at the break room table, “let’s go see the boss.”

Danny felt anxiety bubbling up in his chest, his entire body beginning to twitch. If Mr. Cobblepot didn’t approve of the weaponry, or if he thought they were underwhelming, would he be thrown out? Would he be tortured again, or killed?

Danny shivered when they came to a stop in front of the door to Mr. Cobblepot’s office. Failure wasn’t an option. He had to make sure this went well.

“You’ll do great, kid,” Derringer whispered, pushing the door open.

Mr. Cobblepot had been talking with a few other people, but their conversation died out when Danny and Derringer entered the room. Danny’s skin crawled.

“Ah, Danny! Just the person I wanted to see,” Mr. Cobblepot said, a large smile on his face, “Do you have one of your guns with you?”

“Yes,” Danny signed, nodding.

“Wonderful. I was just telling my associates here about your work. Do you mind giving a demonstration?”

“Where should I shoot? Do you have a target?”

Derringer was quick to translate. Mr. Cobblepot nodded, gesturing for a hired hand in the corner of the room to pull out a small wooden board, holding it up in the air.

Danny paled. He would definitely burn the man’s hands if he hit the target, even if he aimed for the furthest corner of the board.

Still, he was more terrified of disappointing Mr. Cobblepot than he was empathetic towards the man, so he drew a blaster from the holster on his leg and aimed carefully.

The blast hit the center of the board. The man holding it howled in pain, dropping the target and drawing his hand close to his chest. The nauseating smell of burning flesh filled the room.

Danny breathed shakily, in and out.

Mr. Cobblepot, for what it was worth, looked like he couldn’t possibly be happier. He and the others inspected the board on the ground closely, ignoring the hired hand as he ran out of the room, still cradling his damaged hand.

A large hole had been blown into the board, and a good portion of it had been incinerated.

“Look at that, ladies and gentlemen! I told you that Danny would deliver, and deliver he did! Imagine if that had been a person instead! Danny, what would you say would happen?”

Danny paused, trying to wince when he realized that the question wasn’t hypothetical, and Mr. Cobblepot actually wanted an answer.

“It would give them S-E-V-E-R-E burns,” Danny finger spelled the word that he didn’t know the proper sign for, “mostly S-U-R-F-A-C-E. It can’t P-E-I-R-C-E, because there is no bullet, just energy.”

Derringer translated for him.

Mr. Cobblepot frowned, and Danny frantically continued, “but it can be L-E-T-H-A-L! Burns on the head kill fast. Burns on the body make S-H-O-C-K, and kill. Strong I-M-P-A-C-T, too.”

“So they do still kill, just not instantly?”

“Yes,” Danny signed, “they’re fast. They hurt bad. Bad way to die, hurts a lot.”

“Well,” one of the other men in the room piped up, “I guess he’s not completely hopeless.”

“Of course he isn’t,” Mr. Cobblepot replied, fixing a terrifying glare onto the man, “it was my idea to bring him in, after all.”

“Danny,” Mr. Cobblepot said, turning his attention back to him, “we’re going to be collaborating with these fine individuals in the future. I’m going to need twenty guns ready for use in a week. You can handle that, can’t you?”

Danny nodded frantically.

“What kind?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Mr. Cobblepot said, waving his hand dismissively, “semi-automatic is preferable, but handguns and shotguns also work. Just make sure they work perfectly.”

The room was silent for a moment.

“Well, that’s all. You can leave now, and I’ll finish discussing the details with my associates.”

Danny nodded, signing him a quick “thank you, goodbye,” and slipped out of the room alongside Derringer.

They made their way back to Danny’s workshop in silence. Once they were inside, Derringer heaved a heavy sigh, running his fingers through his hair.

“You really think you can make that many guns that quickly, kid?”

“Yes,” Danny replied, “but I need your help.”

Derringer groaned, a smile on his face.

“Of course you’re putting me to work. I should’ve expected it. Now, what do you need me to do?”

“Well, first, hold this…”

—

[ricky-mortis]

I drew Ted from the wonderful @nabwastaken ‘s Time Bastard Au! The original design is by the talented @midnightnautilus , and was so very fun to draw!

[aroaceleovaldez]

im really not a fan of Rick's recent trend of recycling bits of his writing that got a good reaction the first time and acting as if that's a valid substitute for. actually bothering to write something original a second time around. It's clearly just there as a callback and nothing more.

It's "Nico's rage exploded" and "Percy's rage exploded" with the exact same paragraph formatting. It's CoTG having titles like "My Singing Makes Things Worse, and Everyone Is Totally Shocked" (reference to TLO, when Percy says he thinks his singing would cause an avalanche) or "Pretty Much the Best Good-Night Kiss Ever" (reference to TLO "Pretty much the best underwater kiss of all time") or any other number of near word-for-word references to the first series. It's Nico calling Percy "seaweed brain" in Un Natale Mezzosangue (when Percy says in TTC that anybody but Annabeth calling him that is a major offense). It's Nico and Will falling into Tartarus in TSATS word-for-word referencing Percy and Annabeth in House of Hades, despite it not making any sense for their characters (and otherwise being written as Percabeth 2™). It's the show making huge changes but keeping random "fan-favorite references" (mostly overusing "seaweed brain" and "wise girl" and emphasizing percabeth) only because they're popular in-jokes and considering that a faithful enough adaptation to market it heavily as such. It's lazy writing.

And it's a disservice to the series and to the audience, because it clearly shows Rick doesn't have original ideas anymore (though given all his writing is heavily derivative to begin with, it begs the question how much was original in the first place and how much he has difficulty when he doesn't have a structured mythological plot to work from) and that there is an expectation that the audience will just sit down and accept that behavior hook-line-and-sinker. Everything recently is clearly such lip-service to the audience, either in retcons that are overt speaking-to-camera acknowledgements of things he's been criticized on or wink-wink-nudge-nudges of community in-jokes that have no business in the actual text (see: over-use of ship names in canon). Especially since Rick tends to be about 5 years behind on the fandom uptake. It's just so disappointing to see.