#probably ooc but I don't care

[ailithnight]

My brain has served me a delightful scene this morning.

Imagining a point shortly after Jason has officially been brought back to life and therefore is getting pulled into Wayne galas again. (Possibly even at his reintroduction gala, or at least one not long after.) And causing a scene/scandal for shits and giggles.

Some snobbish socialite making the comment, either to Bruce if they are that stupid or close enough to be overheard if they are marginally less stupid, "Should have left that one in the cemetery, eh?"

And for one moment, just a moment, the Brucie mask slips, and it takes ever ounce of self-awareness and restraint in his body for Bruce not to default to his training, to Batman, because How Dare You! How dare you say that about his son. The boy he lost. The boy he grieved. How dare you even insinuate he should be anything less than ecstatic, relieved, grateful that his son came back at all. Mischief and scandal and rough edges and all. Bruce loves him. How dare you imply he should wish his son was still dead.

And Jason, seeing Bruce-Batman-Dad snap, lose control, break a rich snob's nose in his defense; well it certainly doesn't fix their fucked up relationship. But it does marginally improve it. At least knocks Bruce several names down on his shitlist. Makes it a tiny bit tolerable to be around him for a few months.

[generic-sonic-fan]

Fragility

Summary: Vent fic. Shadow is tired of being the mentally ill one.

Maria. Maria Maria Maria Maria.

There. He thought it. Shadow can even picture her bloodied corpse by the lever to the cargo chute in his head now, study the soft lines of her dress and the way her hair splayed all over the floor, without anything more than a soft ache in his stomach. 

Yet Amy still leaned over the booth in the restaurant and covered his eyes when a violent movie trailer played on the TV across the room. Yet Omega keeps destroying every alarm in Eggman’s bases, even though Eggman long since changed the alarms to be completely different from the ones aboard the ARK. 

Yet Sonic keeps looking at him like that the moment he shows the slightest bit of emotion outside of annoyance.

If he was better with metaphors he’d say they were shoving cotton balls in his ears in case he heard anything and strapping him into an escape pod in case he fell. 

Oh right. Falling. Rouge always winced when he disappeared over the edge, even if the ground she couldn’t see was only a few feet below. Not to mention Sonic’s painfully obvious diversion of topic whenever he brought up anything about super forms. 

But Shadow is supposedly the only one who is “like that”, as Rouge would say, or “WIRED THAT WAY”, as Omega would in turn. “Take a moment” to “BREATHE”, and “name me three things you can see” whenever he doesn’t respond in time during a conversation. 

God forbid he mentions Maria. Instantaneous silence. Room-deafening. And he can hear his own pulse roaring in his ears, feel their eyes staring at him, waiting for him like a bomb about to detonate. 

None of them saw her blood splattered against the glass yet you wouldn’t guess it by the way the breath hitched in their throats. 

“WE ARE ENGAGING IN THESE ACTIONS” because “we care, idiot. What a lucky privilege.” Well maybe it doesn’t feel like a damn privilege! Maybe that’s why he wants to be alone today! Maybe that’s why he doesn’t want to meet the pitiful look in everyone’s eyes!

Sometimes he wonders if “Maria” is all he is to them. The ghost of her panicked expression as she stumbles backwards from the gunshot, scribbled onto his face in the present whenever something startles him. 

He doesn’t find blond hair to be very fitting on him, though. 

—

But then someone in GUN HQ decides to pull the fire alarm right as a fellow agent fired a round next to him at the training range and now he’s on the floor unable to breathe. Omega has to carry him out of the building. Rouge does her damndest impression of someone pretending not to care while rubbing circles in his shoulders. 

He clasps his hands together to stop them from trembling. He looks up to see Commander Tower giving orders to the first responders. One of his secretaries tries to shove a box of tissues at him. He pushes her out of the way-

-and his hands are shaking too. 

A lifelong imprisonment of fragility. 

If only Maria could see them now. 

[minipisi-is-dumb]

"do you mind?" comic that I thought was gonna be easy to make bc "oh it's just 3 pages" WRONG. IT TOOK TOO LONG. im never drawing hands again

[sp00kymulderr]

it might be nice

Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Warnings/Tags/Notes: 18+. FEELINGS. Angst. love. just...feelings. Mention of f receiving oral, reader is a not a us-citizen (visa stuff), commitment and intimacy issues all round, did I mentioned feelings? This just kinda started writing itself, i appreciate there isn't enough Dieter in it but it is what it is. Unedited, unbeta'd.

Words: 1.1k

Summary: It's more than enough. Having what you have with him now.

"We could get married"

You look up from your book, drawn back from your far away to the sound of his voice. Dieter is looking at you expectantly.

Your eyes widen as you process the four words that just left his mouth.

"Dee, we…why would we…" You trail off, drawing your legs up and out of his lap, his thumb presses down on the arch of your foot once more before he lets it go.

The conversation had moved on hours ago. Over takeout you'd mentioned trepidation over being able to stay in the country, struggling with your visa and having no sponsorship since you couldn't seem to get a fucking job right now.

Dieter had listened, sympathised, and then eaten you out for dessert just to make you feel better about your situation.

It helped. He'd been pretty mediocre but extremely enthusiastic when you'd met, but now you'd taught him some tricks he knew just how to turn your mind off for a moment.

The conversation was finished the moment he put his mouth on you, or so you thought. He could help you pay for an extension but he wasn't influential or wealthy enough to sway the embassy into letting you stay longer.

"I'd bribe the fuck out of them if I could, you know that"

You did know that. You knew he'd do anything for you. He'd been saying it since the day he met you, once famous (more like infamous) movie star turned rehabilitated recluse with no one willing to be by his side until that day.

He'd met you in a Dennys, of all places. 3am waffles served to his lonely little corner booth because he found it hard to sleep these days, and he got hungry at random times. You took the late shifts because they paid the best, and you could be available in the day for calls from your agent that never came.

It hadn't been sexual at first. It hadn't been anything but a displaced, alone man and an exhausted, untethered waitress sitting in a booth and sharing free fries because chef made too many and they'd only go to waste. It had been whispered giggles, and sharing ridiculous Hollywood horror stories, and 'same time tomorrow' over and over again.

No one in LA had made you laugh. Not until you met him.

Dieter hadn't heard genuine laughter in years. Now he got to hear it every night.

Back in the now, you shake your head. He's being silly. He's trying to make you laugh again.

"Don't be stupid" You playfully shove his shoulder with your foot, but his face falls into a frown, and you feel a little crack in your heart at the sight. You watch as he stands, rubbing fingers across his forearm and muttering a little 'Stupid, yeah'. The tremor you feel inside you is nameless, and you will it to remain that way.

In the last six months of your knowing each other, there have been times when you've felt this same feeling. An ache at the thought that he could be anything other than happy. You'd long since left Dennys for the upward trajectory of the Cheesecake Factory but still when the late shift rolls around you feel a tug at your lips and a name on them, even when you'd seen him only hours before.

You're not an item, that's the thing. You're not a couple. Neither of you have ever said the words outright, no 'I want to be with you', 'I want to be yours'. Not to each other, at least.

It's more than enough. Having what you have with him now. It's enough, it's enough, it's enough. Enough that he will sit up all night long and read lines with you again and again and again. Enough that he tells you not to come over on his bad days but you do anyway, and hold him while he cries.

It's enough to be just this. Because more would only make it hurt more when he relapses, when you have to leave.

When you have to leave…

You close your book, set it down on the table that's strewn with pages for your latest audition. Last night he'd coached you through every single line, and then told you with passion just how perfect you were. You can hear him in the kitchen, and you know he's making himself a decaf latte with way too much caramel syrup and a dash of the kitkat sprinkles because that's what he always makes when he might be starting to crave something else.

That's how you know he wasn't making a joke. That's how you know your hurt his feelings. That and every look he's ever given you, every smile that lights up his eyes that's only been for you. That and the way his hands never stray far from you, always grounding himself with the touch of your skin to his.

"Dee…" You pad up to him slowly, watch as he tenses at your presence. Another prickle in your chest, you can't let him think you don't feel...what it is that you feel.

"Would it be so bad?" He asks without turning, the tinge of dejection in his tone making you reach out. "I'd treat you good, you know. We wouldn't even have to live together or anything…it can just be a way for you to stay. That's all. I didn't think it would be so bad for you"

God, you've had him right in your grasp this whole time. The two of you dancing around your feelings all because of fears you didn't even fully realise you had til now.

"I'd- I wouldn't even tell anyone you were my wife, if you didn't want me to. I wouldn't expect anything from it. I just…fuck,"

You turn him around with a pull to his arm, shake your head and bite back something hopeful and beautiful that inches up your throat,

"I don't want you to go"

Your arms are around his middle, a stifled sob as you bury your face against the soft, worn fabric of his favourite t-shirt - your favourite by extension because everything he loves you love too. He smells like him.

You breathe him in.

He smells like home.

You look up at him and smile. Not the pretty smile you give to casting agents - the one that makes you look perfect - but the big, happy, loving one he saw the very first night you two met in that Dennys at three in the morning on a random Tuesday. The one he gives you back is the same; he's smiled a thousand times on camera, in films and press appearances and award shows. No one else but you has ever seen this smile.

You take a deep breath. The crack in your heart starts in fusing back together.

"We could get married"

[psymachine]

hear me out: you, me, dennis, and god all know he looks good in lingerie, but maybe he's a little bit unsure what mac "the problem is you're into all that early 80s glam rock femme shit; definitely had masc4masc in his grindr profile" mcdonald will think of it

[hopefulrunaways]

✨MORE ACTORS AU✨

Nico lore edition (Percy's lore is next it just i don't have so much time rn)

[Will Davis, 20yo.

Appered in the PJO series, but never interacted with Nico there.

Percy remembers him.

Recently they're premiered a serie where they're costars. It's a teen romance (heartsttopers type sh't) so it's all over the internet with ships.]

Relationship with Jason, i love these two

[Jason Grace 22yo

They´re coincided in varius proyects after Nico ended PJO, they just short of started hanging out and become friends (Jason was very insistent and Nico found it amusing)

They started to get jobs togetther a lot and kinda become a package deal, in and out of work]

[you-can-reclaim-your-crown]

i want to know about ur sukugo kid!!!!!!!!! :D

That’s not fair. If anyone else would have asked me, i would have replied „sorry, don’t want to spill anything“ but it’s you and I can't say no to you! 😭😭😭

Ok, so. I still won’t be revealing their name or gender because i really want to include it in my story first, but here i few things:

They weren’t much of a sweets person at the beginning, very much to Satoru‘s distress („my baby’s broken! What child doesn’t like sweets?!“) Sukuna jokingly said to him, it’s probably because of all the sweets he ate during his pregnancy, the kid just had enough for a lifetime. They still developed a sweet tooth later on, they1 were just a late bloomer. They could eat Dorayaki and Taiyaki everyday.

Sometimes they speak in old Japanese like Sukuna, it used to throw Satoru off a bit, but it was so adorable….a toddler acting all serious like their father, crossing their little arms. They learn so speak meme fluently, sukuna doesn't understand a word.

And they love to be barefoot, even outside.

They are totally the type to do the „ask one parent and if they say no, asks the other one“ and the conversation

„then why did you ask me?“

„Because he’s not the boss of you“ definitely happened more than once. They also tried this one on Uraume, but turned out, Sukuna is the boss of them. (Still worth a try. Or several)

Despite their temper and mean words, they’re a good kid.

Maki and co. (Except yuuji and Yuuta) Always say they don’t know how this kid turned out so good with these parents.

Sukuna always scoffes, for him, it’s easy and they’re just blind (and stupid. And boring, he should kill them for insulting his beloved)

He thinks their smile shines brighter than the sun , but his Satoru thinks it’s kind and soft, just as moonlight.

[wizerdbattle]

I very badly wanted Jo to have a hashtag feminism arc where she latched onto Poppy and acted as her assistant... the power would go to Poppy's head and Jo would slowly absorb pieces of Poppy's terrible personality and they would both get worse... yeah I would have liked that a lot I think :)

[chungmyungenthusiast]

Banter

Notes I Pure fluff maybe + chung myung content ?!?! woah.. keep in mind that this is not edited and checked :3

Chung Myung will never let you live this down. No way. Especially when he, quite literally, had you pinned down. "Give up yet?" He asks, his tone teasing as he looks down at you with that shit-eating grin he knows you have a hate-love relationship with. God, you want to wipe that grin off his face so bad. "Love," You start, your tone seemingly pleading as you look up at him. The one and only Mount Hua's Divine Dragon, Chung Myung, swore he could explode at any given moment. And while that normally is a threat to the other disciples, it means something else now. Slowly but surely, you lean closer to him. You then pout, "Please.." A kiss, then you turn the tables on him. For a split second, he was caught off-guard with that kiss; you didn't waste any time switching your positions. How cute he looks when he's under you. "I'll kiss you, okay? So please, keep your voice down."

Notes II Chung Myung deserves all of the kisses and hugs in the world.

[feroluce]

Thinking tonight about Caelus, and the nature of his loss and his grief after the Everything that went down in Penacony during 2.0.

Because Acheron, Black Swan, and Misha kind of knew of Firefly, they at least met her, but they didn't like really know her, and Caelus never even got the chance to introduce her to the rest of the Astral Express Crew. The only person who would have talked to her much was Sparkle, who is. Probably not really someone Caelus is interested in grieving with skznmsks

Anyway, all this to say, I like thinking about how alone poor Caelus is in his grief, because he was the only one who knew Firefly. He's the only one really mourning her. There's no one to talk about her with. There's no stories to trade or memories to reminisce with anyone over. It's not as though he knew her for long, but still. No one else knew her at all.

And I love the thought of all of this coming bubbling up, hot and acidic and bitter, during a conversation with Sampo, who Caelus just so happens to run into in the Golden Hour. Poor Sampo is kinda blindsided, he knew shit was going down in Penacony, but yeesh. And he just. Isn't quite sure what to say about it all, because he's never really encountered this before. His feelings about the Masked Fools are...a mixed bag, but he's been a part of them for a very long time, and when you're with a close organization like that, it's hard to feel alone, in grief or otherwise.

So Sampo sits there on their little bench that the two of them have occupied, and he thinks of his old friend April, how she'd died in his arms cackling and spitting her own blood after a heist gone wrong, and how after he'd dragged himself back to the World's End Tavern they'd all held a Fool's Funeral- which is basically just a big party where everyone gets really really drunk and reminisces and toasts the dead and celebrates their life.

He still thinks about her a lot, and he remembers how the time he'd most keenly felt her absence was on Jarilo-VI, the one place where he couldn't talk about her because he couldn't say anything to give himself away as an alien. The Fools still tell stories about her every time he goes back to the Tavern. His first toast of the night is always in her name. Even now, all these years after she'd died, Sampo is still learning new things about her. He's never had to grieve her alone.

Caelus doesn't have any of that.

He might never have that. As they speak, Caelus has no proof that Firefly was even her real name, or if she dreamt with her true appearance. He might not ever find out who she even was.

And just imagining that kind of loneliness hollows out a strange little pit, right behind his sternum, deep between his ribs.

So Sampo claps Caelus' shoulder and offers him a deal. Come find him outside of the dream. He knows a guy who can get them a lot of beer for really cheap-

("Is that guy you and your five finger discounts?" "Whatever do you mean, dear friend, I don't even know the meaning of the phrase, hehee.")

-and they can hole up in a bar or a hotel room or something, and get completely shitcanned. Tell him all about Firefly, tell him everything, and he'll tell Caelus about April and everyone else he's ever lost. Sampo will carry Caelus' memories of Firefly with him, and at least this way, Caelus will be a little less alone in remembering her. And the next time they cross paths, Sampo will be the one to bring her up, and to tell her stories, and Caelus can get to be the one listening. He won't have to be the only person to talk about her anymore.

Caelus rolls his eyes when Sampo avoids another remark about sticky fingers, but...ok, yeah. That sounds good. Nice, even. Thank you. Caelus bumps his shoulder against Sampo's. Sampo bumps back.

(They find each other again the next day, and true to their word, get themselves completely and utterly shitcanned. Caelus talks more than Sampo has ever heard him; every minute detail, every word choice, Firefly's every odd little mannerism and habit. Because Caelus wants to make sure this will outlive him, that even if the Stellaron dwelling within him finally burns him to a crisp and he really does up and kick the bucket, or even, godforbid, if he forgets, he wants to make sure someone remembers her. She deserved that.)

((And it takes quite a while, after that. Caelus doesn't see Sampo again until after everything has settled down. On his last day in Penacony, he finds the guy slinking out of a seedy back alley and all but runs right into him. Sampo happily leads him to some dive bar in an even seedier back alley that Caelus has never even heard of, and Sampo raises his glass. "To Firefly! Who sounds like she probably would have hated me at first, but I would have liked to have met her anyway."

And Caelus stares at him, almost looking startled, long enough that Sampo worries that he's read him wrong and brought this up too soon. He's halfway into planning how to talk himself out of this situation when Caelus finally throws back his head back and laughs, tells him that yeah, Firefly would have politely called him out on every lie he told, and all their conversations would take twice as long with the way Sampo is so full of shit.

And he can see it, the same way he watches and sees through everyone, that Caelus' eyes have a tightness to them, his knuckles are nearly white around the handle of his mug. But he smiles. He hits his glass against Sampo's far too hard and throws it back and gets foam everywhere like he does every time they drink because the guy's about as elegant as a raging bull, but those things don't lessen the genuineness of his smile.

The grief is there, but so is the elation, and those emotions aren't a sliding scale between one or the other. It is all of both and both at once, and that's what contents Sampo enough to throw his own mug back when Caelus makes a toast of his own, "to April!!".))

[yingren]

happy halloween i'll be spending the night in a haunted house called my drafts and inbox

[dangaer]

update: i am not. well

[idkwidatp]

OKAY I GOT A THOUGHT WHAT IF THE REASON WHY CHERRY MADE CARLA IS BECAUSE HE DOESN'T WANT TO WEAR HIS GLASSES AT S AND LOOK LIKE A NERD SO HE DOESN'T WEAR THEM AND HE CAN'T SEE VERY WELL SO HE NEEDS CARLA'S HELP BL

[accultant]

unfortunate to have a muse who is both afraid of blood and not at all nurturing. very rare to get a classic "tending to your wounds" scene with iago. like they'll DO it but they'll also be going "you look soooo gross rn" the whole time. the kind of guy to poke ur dying body with a stick and go ewwwwwww

[bottombaron]

whenever i think abt writing Nandor and i get going thru a series of sequences of him behaving like a well-adjusted, caring, adult i have to stop myself, backspace several mental paragraphs and remember that he's basically a semi-captive lion being observed in a nature documentary and he functions on 92% Id

[justewil]

desmond sycamore picky eater ok?