#okay okay I will admit it

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC "Pick Me Up"

The stream goes live on the first day of the school year. It's the usual song and dance - mad laughing, threats, poor jokes, terror, and about thirty kids huddled together in a classroom behind Joker's back. Tim recognizes it as one of the Gotham Academy classrooms. Dick can't imagine the horror those kids' parents must be feeling right now. Jason jokes about middle school traumatic experiences. Damian is feeling very justified for skipping classes today.

Bruce, all suited up in his Batman garb, is making his way to the Academy as fast as he possibly can. Those are kids.

Gotham is once again anxiously kept on the edge of their seats, watching as Joker decides to interview the kids on their learning experience so far. Something about leaving a good first impression on the new generation or some other bullshit. Most kids stutter over their words - it's true that Gothamites are way more composed when facing life-threatening events, but those kids are only fourteen or fifteen for the most part. They are not old enough to keep their cool in the face of a murder clown.

That is, until Joker points his camera at one of the girls. Black hair in a high ponytail, blue eyes without a trace of fear, a slightly displeased, even bored expression on her face. She looks straight into the camera, not even waiting for the laughing madman to finish his question, and deadpans:

"I don't think I like school. Pick me up, please."

Joker sputters.

"Not so scared, I see," he sneers, and, in the next moment, a comically large gun painted in purples and greens is pointed to the girl's forehead, "How about now?"

The girl scrunches her nose and makes a so-so gesture.

"It's kinda meh," she admits, "Like, yeah, points for style, but you know, size doesn't matter. It's all in the technique."

Dick snorts over the comms. It's a bad time for laughing, sure, but the phrase caught him off-guard. This is not what you'd expect to hear from a teen, and definitely not something you'd expect anyone to say to the Joker. Jason's comms are muted, but Barbara knows he also laughed a little.

"Technique, you say?" Joker hisses, pressing the gun closer to the girl's head, and she winces, leaning away from it, almost as if she is disgusted by the touch.

"Yeah, I mean, guns are not that scary anyway. What are you gonna do with them, blast my brains all over the floor? Been there, done that," the girl shrugs, "Kinda nasty, but overall, it's just like slime, only sticky." She pauses and looks to the side, seemingly lost in thought, "Huh, maybe we should have added Borax to it. Or was it baking soda?.."

"Listen here, you little brat," Joker's fingers catch the girl's chin, and his voice becomes sickeningly menacing. Bruce is almost there, just two more minutes. Tim is already grappling onto the wall.

But none of them get to finish.

"Put your dirty fingers away from my sister," a low, cold, and even in a way that speaks of barely contained fury, voice comes from out of the screen.

The camera spins, like whoever is holding it turned really fast, and everyone watching the stream sees a fairly normal guy standing by the window - a turtleneck and ripped jeans, same black hair as the girl, same blue eyes... Wait, they are not blue.

And that's not a guy.

The camera falls down to the floor, and there are a lot of panicked screams coming from the broadcast now, but none of them sound like children's voices. It's the screams of adults, of grown-ass men, and later, someone even claimed they heard Joker's scream among them, too. The picture on camera glitches a few times, and the angle is awkward, but everyone still gets to see how shadows in the room morph into eyes, wide open and green, and how the darkness grows sharp teeth, countless grinning mouths that don't belong to any faces.

Screams turn into gargling and then to quiet whispers, filling the ears of all those listening with countless words in languages they don't know.

Red Robin turns off the recording and looks to that same guy from the levestream, sitting across him on the couch. The guy - Daniel, or Danny, as he introduced himself - looks him in the eyes and raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, and?"

"How did you do it?" Tim asks for the third time this evening. Danny blinks.

"Did what?" He asks, completely incomprehending. Tim groans. He's been trying to get his answers, any answers at this point, from the guy for thirty fucking minutes already. So far, he's got nothing. Danny, whoever the fuck he is, proves to be the most annoying human being on Earth.

"Seven people in a coma, including Joker himself, with no physical injuries and none of the children remember a thing! How?!" He demands, and a girl's face peeks from around the corner:

"I remember!"

Tim snaps his head at her, "What do you remember?"

The girl pauses, blinks, and looks to Danny. Then shrugs, "My brother picked me up from school."

Tim drops his head down and breathes out in frustration. He can't force the information out of civilians, he is a vigilante, not a mafia.

"Would it make you feel better if I promise not to do it again?" Danny asks, and his voice is way too innocent for Tim to believe him. He raises his head to look the guy in his shameless, amused eyes.

"I hate you."

"Thanks," Danny grins.

[sykloni]

DP x House M.D.

9. Bleeding out in an alleyway

This is kind of the vibe with DP x House M.D. crossovers:

Danny is injured and sick with some mysterious illness on top of that. Just overall bad time for him. He is a minor. The hospital wants to call his parents. He doesn't. How would he even begin to explain that he is in New Jersey!? His doctor is kind of mean and probably will figure out what's wrong with him while figuring out what's wrong with him.

This is one of those crossovers that feels kind of random, but is super enjoyable. There are 6 DP x House M.D fics on FFN! It's been couple years since I read them. I remember the one where Danny ends up hospitalised as Phantom being my favorite, but I think there were also other good ones.

[potassiumprincess]

i think marinette is worse at resting when she's sick but adrien is worse at sitting things out if he's injured. i have no explanation, these are just the vibes

[chalkrub]

saw some mangy dog on the outskirts of town

[shinynewmemories]

Listen to me Suzanne Collins did not have to give Katniss and Peeta a history before the games. She did NOT have to do that. She could have just had their story begin when Peeta's name was called. She could have had them be total strangers until the moment of the reaping.

Like: "And the boy tribute is... Peeta Mellark!" Katniss: Who's that? Or she could have made them vaguely familiar with each other! Peeta's name is called and Katniss just thinks, Oh, I know that name! He's in my class, actually. Poor boy... Anyway!

Either way, SC could have written the rest of the story exactly the same! I think many authors would have done that! Because if Peeta's purpose in the book was to be Gale's competition, to be one of the 3 corners of a love triangle, THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN THE WAY TO DO IT!! But that's NOT how she did it because that's NOT what Peeta is.

And who is he? To Katniss, Peeta's someone who saved her and her family and received nothing in return except a beating. Peeta's someone she has had her eye on but has never worked up the courage to talk to. Peeta's someone she associates with kindness and hope. And all this before the start of the events of the book! Just because WE, the READERS, met Gale before Peeta and immediately felt a connection with him does NOT mean that was Katniss's experience! And that's what SC is trying to tell us!

To dismiss Katniss and Peeta's past as unimportant or inconsequential compared to whatever Katniss and Gale have in the present is to fundamentally misunderstand Katniss as a character and, as a result, condemn oneself to never fully understand the choices she makes in the future.

Suzanne Collins wrote it that way on purpose because she had something to say. And no one will ever be able to convince me that something wasn't "It was always going to be Peeta".

[nervouspearl]

"Sauron was become now a sorcerer of dreadful power, master of shadows and of phantoms, foul in wisdom, cruel in strength, misshaping what he touched, twisting what he ruled, lord of werewolves; his dominion was torment."

[haljathefangirlcat]

Vaggie + giving Charlie the softest looks

[amandaherzman]

fungi of the forest 🍄✨

[sableeira]

sure ango may have betrayed every organization under the sun but tachihara put in the effort to build up the perfect stereotypical gangstersona and act his silly little heart out for the perfect plot twist so we all know who deserves the award for best port mafia betrayal

[bobombun]

I'm still new to Warhammer 40k, and I have gotten attached to two unit types that seem to be very prone to death (kriegers and skitarii), and I'm not sure if it's just coincidence and I have the tastes of a factually inaccurate lemming, or if it is so that everyone in the 40k universe is very prone to dying.

[huginsmemory]

Said with love of course. Companion post to this.

[bonniesband]

It means I love you.

[miguxadraws]

did this just so i dont sleep without drawing anything today

demon and nun au by @spitinsideme

[leviraaaaaa]

𝘔𝘦𝘢𝘨𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭

𝘞𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴, 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵e𝘭𝘭

Levi let out a sigh of relief the moment your silhouette appeared through the shadows, tensed shoulders relaxing. He turned his head, all focus shifting instantly to you.

“You.” He exhaled, a hint of exasperation in his tone, indicating that the little time spent without your absence had not been very fun. “Where have you been?”

“Hi. Went to scout.” You answered, reaching the little campfire to stand beside Levi. All your friends sat circling it. Levi’s subtle, not very subtle eagerness at your arrival seemed to have triggered something, making the already guffawing crowd of people laugh even harder. Concluded with Levi’s sour face, it wasn’t very hard to guess what the subject of amusement must have been.

“Oh, are we bullying Levi again?” You beamed, nudging Levi’s leg with your foot, signaling him to give you space. “Scoot over. I want to join too.”

Levi shot a glare, but shifted to let you sit beside him. As another wave of laugher sparked through your friends, you plopped down on the grass, folding your legs. It was a chilly night, and everyone wanted to stay near the fire, therefore, the circle was so tightly formed around the fire, you could barely squeeze yourself between Levi and Nifa.

“Sit on my lap, why don’t you?” Levi grumbled, scowling and squirming a little at the close contact.

“What? It’s cold. And you’re warm.” You said as you sat down. “What are you so pissy for anyways?” You pressed yourself tighter, curling yourself up against him, uncaring of the poisonous gaze. You’ve learnt a long ago, half of Levi's words didn’t mean shit, that if he actually was uncomfortable, you wouldn’t even be here right now, he would’ve broken a bone or two. Levi’s personal space wasn’t something he let anyone come through, but you’ve been an exception for that for a long time.

And he was warm. A warmth that surprisingly only the cold, cold man was capable of.

And as always, the low protest died soon and he adjusted to let you lean against him.

“Hange.” He muttered, answering your previous question. “They’re trying to convince people to marry me.”

“Wonderful.” You grinned, “I volunteer.”

“I hate you.”

Cue for a very drunk Hange cracking up again, leading the others to join in. Even Erwin, ever regal and solemn, couldn’t seem to be able to hold the small smile from forming. With Hange’s contagious laughter and Levi’s scowl, it was impossible to.

“Oh why’d you let Hange drink again?” You laughed, watching them as Moblit struggled, trying to pry the bottle out of the section commander's grasp. “They're gonna be terrible to deal with tomorrow.”

“They insisted it was one sip.” Erwin said solemnly.

“Well, that sure seems like one sip.”

“But seriously though,” Nanaba piped in, shoulders still shaking with the waves of laughter. “Levi’s got all that spunk, but no bitches.”

“Stubborn shortie-” Hange's voice was cut of as they hiccupped

“Shut up. All of you. Please.” Levi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “

“Point stands. In your mid-thirties, Levi. How long are you going to wait?”

“Why,” He huffed. “Are you people so insistent on analyzing my personal life every damn time? Do you not have anything better to do?”

“Only well wishers.” She gave him a smug smile. “That’s what friends do, they care for each other.”

“No. You just want to give me shit.”

“Well, that too.” She shrugged.

“Iffff—if anything,” Hange stumbled in, rubbing their eyes. She glanced at you pointedly. “You could at least date her. That’d be nice.”

“So I keep telling him.” You feigned a disappointed sigh.

“Don’t fucking egg them on.” He hissed, face heating up at the suggestion. How could they even think it’d work out? He thinks, against the thoughts tugging. Ridiculous. They were ridiculous. You were just as ridiculous. So what does he do with this ridiculous fucking feelin–

“Oh but look,” Hange leaned forward, squinting to watch the two of you, their glasses reflecting off the fire and casting shadows on their face. “ Do mine eyes deceive me or is Ackerman over there blushing?”

“No.” The denial was quick. A little too quick.

“I confirm.” Nanaba smirked. Miche grunted.

“No.”

“Oh, Levi.” Erwin’s eyes glimmered amusement.

“I will hit you. Don’t even go there.”

The roar of laughter only grew louder.

And the night rolled on, the nonsense bickerings and banters continued. Friendly faces and friendly voices, joking and teasing and laughing without a care in the world. Bottles clinked, the firelight glinting on them. At one point, you and Hange started singing some stupid song you’ve heard in the fair, rocking back and forth with the music. And you weren’t certain, but you could swear there was a hint of melody even in the wind blowing by. And it was cold, but with Levi beside you, you were okay. But that was okay, it was okay. More than okay, really. The happiness was overwhelming.

.

“You know,” Hange called out suddenly. They had taken to fully sprawl out on the grass. They’d been quiet a while, and you had thought they must’ve passed out, but appears not.

Everyone turned to look at them.

“This is nice isn’t it?” They mumbled, blinking up to the sky. “I mean, sure, we might die tomorrow, but this is nice. I wouldn’t really mind dying.”

“You know, what would’ve been nice, Hange?” Nanaba said, watching Hange. And despite the words itself, she was smiling. “To not mention death.”

“I know but,” Hange sat up, grinning. “This is not too bad as a last night of your life right? I wouldn’t mind.”

And for a second, no one spoke. Perhaps, it was because all were drunk more or less but that hit harder in that moment. Unsaid words were spoken in silence, the wind carrying the oaths away. And even Levi’s eyes had softened.

Only Hange could say words like that with that face, you thought. You weren’t sad, not really. Because Hange was right. Being a scout meant learning to appreciate every breath you can take, and nights like this were as good as they’d come.

“Aww Hange.” You sighed, grinning back. “Cheesy much? You’re making Levi all squirmy.”

“No, I am not—” Levi’s protests were buried as the group jumped in yet again another session of Levi leg-pulling.

But despite it all, Levi thought.

Pissheads, all of them were. But nevertheless.

He watched you with the corner of his eyes, watching you as you laughed your head off to something Eld said, shoulders shaking, the firelight making your eyes glitter. And you were so close, so close, he could hardly breathe. And the urge to wrap an arm around you, to pull you closer. To feel you against him.Would that be so wrong of him? If he leaned close, would you pull away? But it’s okay, he thinks.

Hange was right.

It’s okay if he dies tomorrow. He wouldn’t really mind.

He didn’t really mind right now either.

He finds it strange that he didn’t really mind it. Any of it.

He didn’t mind Hange or Nanaba or any of them.

He didn’t mind your stupid little jokes, clearly made with the intention to piss him off. He didn’t really mind that you were so close. He didn’t mind that your head on his shoulder. He didn’t mind a lot of things that he thinks he would’ve minded if it was anyone else but you.

He doesn’t really know how it works. He doesn’t like thinking about the strange little feelings in his heart that tugged everytime you smiled, or the way his stomach tightened whenever you flirted with him so casually.

And maybe one day he’ll tell you. Maybe he won’t

Does it matter? Is it not enough to only have you alive and close?

He’s here now. With everyone and with you.

He’s home.

[gingebreadbeetle]

Hazbin does fall apart in more or less ten seconds — questions I’ve thought of in roughly under a minute

Why is there a seperate character for the root of evil?

If there was no war in heaven how did the other habitants of hell ( the other princes, the goetia, imps and succubi ) exist?

Why is there no punishment?

Why is there literally only two guests in the hotel to rehabilitate themselves??

Why do people (humans) ‘worship’ Adam?

Where is god?? Where is the man who literally created the universe the cast exists in??

Also — how is Charlie meant to redeem people that aren’t suffering? Sure sinners are exterminated — but her actual ‘people’ that are hellborn aren’t. So what’s the point of going to war? It’s not like sinners can add much to the politics , economy or system of hell - they can’t even leave the pride ring?? Also non of the demons actually torture sinners so like??????

Oh also, last one I swear,

Why does Lucifer let Alastor talk shit TO HIS FACE? He’s the prince of pride, king of hell ect. Alastor is only more powerful then the average sinner, he’s not more powerful then demon royalty. And it’s not like he couldn’t support the hotel instead of Alastor?

So yup those are the questions I’ve thought of in more then ten seconds

[skully-drawls]

Push me And then just touch me Till I can get my