#she is sooo as in love as him

[duahauuoplanh]

Are you sure? That you are not jealous at all?

[hiphopcherrrypop]

something sowmthing the kageyama brothers + their blue eyed weirdboys

[starry-bi-sky]

do yall ever think about bruce/batman!clone danny standing in front of his bathroom mirror after finding out he was a clone and silently tracing his face. The slope of his jaw and point of his chin. The high angle of his cheekbones and the shape of his eyes, the curve of his brow bones and the shape of his nose. The volume of his hair and the way it curls and gets fluffy when it gets too long.

His hair is black the same way a crow's wing is black. His dad's hair is black the same way a black bear's fur is black. His dad's eyes are blue like the ocean is blue. Danny's eyes are blue the same way a glacier is blue.

His dad has a square jaw and straight flat hair, and he tans and gets a face full of freckles when he's out in the sun for too long. Danny burns like a lobster and his face remains untouched. Danny has a sharp jaw and tall cheekbones, and Sam says when he's not smiling there's almost something regal about him. You would never call Jack Fenton "regal" when he's not smiling.

Sam says when he's not smiling he looks scary the same way a stone statue is. Jack Fenton when he's not smiling looks scary the same way that german shepherd staring at you across the street is.

Do you ever think he grew up wondering if he was adopted. Because of course, he has black hair and blue eyes like his dad. But having the same color doesn't make you someone's child.

Or, worse, things he's heard from the other kids and the other parents and even some of his teachers growing up; that he was the product of an affair. And that his dad was just too stupid to notice. And Danny would defend his parents until the day he died, because Jack Fenton wasn't an idiot and Maddie Fenton wasn't a cheater.

But doubt comes in with fickle tongue. his parents swear up and down that he is their child when he asks about either. That Danny just had his grandparents' features, but he was their son and they loved him.

But Danny doesn't look like either of his parents. His mom's eyes are blue like an aquamarine and Jazz's too. And they burn like lobsters in the sun too, but Jazz gets freckles on her face and so does Maddie. And as Danny grows up he doesn't bulk up or get stocky like his dad did, and when he hits puberty he doesn't shoot up like a tree like Jack Fenton did.

He stays small, and they say he's a late bloomer (and he is), or that he just has his mom's height. But he's fast and has good stamina, and some days it feels like he's built entirely different from his family. That the things they went through growing up just didn't apply to him. Jack and Maddie Fenton both had acne and breakouts when they hit puberty, and Jazz inherits it and he's seen the amount of skincare products she keeps on her side of the bathroom.

And then he hits puberty and breaks out maybe once or twice, but his skin stays clear for the most part and the problems and changes his dad went through just don't happen to him.

And the truth is worse than all of the lies.

How horrifying.

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: Jazz Fenton, after years of fixing her brother’s injuries, becomes a Doctor with an inclination towards behavioral health and psychology- In order to make the difference she wants to see in the world she joins Dr. Leslie Thompkin’s practice. 

Jazz Fenton, M.D. has spent years of her life doing research, doing the hard work and the emotional labor, and finally, finally, she’s joining a practice she can feel 100% confident in. She’s goddamn good doctor and she wants to make the biggest impact that she can. 

Dr. Thompkins (who insists that she call her Leslie as they’re colleagues now), is a kind woman, sharp as a tack and keeps her practice open at odd hours to help the most unfortunate. It took some time for them to bond and trust to be built, but now Jazz is being allotted a few night shifts here and there. 

It’s incredible. Jazz gets to spend time with the kids who come in and really talk to them (in addition to getting them antibiotics, heating pads and pokemon themed bandaids) to help equip them with a few coping skills. Her passion for psychology never disappeared after all, but the expansive knowledge of how to heal the human body has made her find a sense of fulfillment like no other.

Having proven herself and worn Leslie down, Jazz now takes up about 1/3 of all the night shifts in the month. She’s hoping to get to 50/50 by the end of the year but she’s content with what she has. Danny keeps odd hours anyway so calling him after work on her walk home can happen any time of day and he will always answer enthusiastically. 

It’s a particularly busy night before he comes in. The Red Hood. 

He was known for being an ally to Leslie, despite being on contentious terms with the Bats, but Jazz had never asked directly. Never one to turn away a patient with bullet hole wounds, she hops into action to get his wounds cleaned, sewed up and gauze wrapped. She’s handing him a sheet (an Infographic! Dani made it with her! Graphic design is her passion!) on how to care for his wounds when he first seems to recognize that she’s not Leslie. 

“No, Of course not. I’m Dr. Fenton. I can’t blame you for not remembering but I did introduce myself as you bled in the entry way. You’re Red Hood, right?” 

“Hm. Didn’t realize the practice was expanding. Where can I find-” He grumbles before pushing her hand aside from where she had still been supporting his shoulder.

“Hold on there, mister. You’re going home, you’re following this infographic and you’re going to get some sleep.” 

“Lady you don’t know-” His voice modulated ton came across antagonistically. As if he was trying to intimidate her. Ha, Jazz rolls her eyes at the inclination.

“Who I’m talking to? Who I’m dealing with? You’re hilarious. I can eat you vigilante’s hero complexes for breakfast. Tell me who I’m calling to pick you up and then you can say thank you.” Jazz snaps at him. It really had been a long night but his whole dialogue thus far is making her a bit batty. 

“Oh really Doc? You know Leslie’s tough shit, and from what I can tell you’ve got nothing on her-” 

“Trying to make me feel insufficient when I just saved your life? That’s cute. I’m sure a lifetime of abandonment by both of your parental figures gave you that. I’m also sure that you inherited this desire to prove you’re not going to be dependent on anyone who wants to help from whoever got you dressing up in tights to fight crime in the first place. Again, I’d love to talk at length about how predictable you-” 

“Bwah- wait- I’m Predictable? You’re probably some nepobaby who had parents who told her she could have the world-” But Jazz cuts him off with hysterical laughter- he couldn’t be further from the truth. Her parents loved her, but nepotism? With what, the ghosts? If anything she got that from Danny, but he doesn’t need to know about her ghostly titles. 

“You’re just some guy who came back from the dead and made his trauma everyone else’s issue. So shut it. And tell me how I’m getting you home from this clinic.” She seethes though her voice stays devastatingly level with each word. 

Speechless for a moment, he eventually relents to Jazz that he’s already called for help on the comms but it will be hours before they can come for a pick up. The sun had already come up and the night had been over for most of them before Hood had walked into trouble. She groans and the realizes the time for herself and the empty clinic around them.

“Fine. My shift just ended anyway. I’ll get you home in one piece and I swear to all the ancients that you’d better follow the directions on the infographic.” 

And that’s how Jazz ended up calling her brother while supporting the weight of a grown ass man (who no longer wanted to talk to her) on her walk home. 

The next time Red Hood appears in her clinic, he’s brought a dozen roses in addition to the cut on his neck that definitely needs to be pressurized like ASAP. Did he stop for the flowers on his way to the clinic? He’s going to pass out from blood loss! She doesn’t even like roses!

[rasoyas]

first project of the new year? committing to willow creek with the help of @inspiredsimmerx's fantastic builds and a familiar broke build

[frostedpuffs]

i need adrienette to be closer than ever actually. they're both traumatized af i want them attached at the hip and a little obsessed w each other. i want them slightly unhealthy and codependent. they've been through so much shit together and now that they have each other i want them to sink their claws in and never let go

[tiedsh0es]

I dont think ppl give silver spoon enough credit for how clever he is. He knows how to turn a crowd. The way he nearly almost won the speeches on voice alone?? Even when he's one of the most disliked chars?

[introspectivememories]

sorry but do you ever think about the fact that the bernard we have today is a direct amalgamation of everything that happened in his past and i know that sound like such an obvious statement to say but it actually kills me to know that you can draw a direct line from who he is today all the way back to that sixteen year old boy who watched his best friend bleed out. like it is the defining moment in his life. it fundamentally shaped who he is and the person he's become. he is the bernard we know and love not despite the grieves shooting but because of it. because the gangs all got together and shot up his school. because tim walked out of that room with nothing but a baseball bat. because his darla got shot. because he watched her gasp and cry as she died. because he watched the blood coagulate around the wound. because he sat there and held her hand as her life drained out of her. because he walked into school that day with a joke he knew would make her laugh and her nose would scrunch up and she'd snort a little and tim would roll his eyes at him and call him ridiculous and instead he walked out with a bloody white shirt, blood under his fingernails, and two friends less. because, even now, almost half a decade out from the shooting, he thinks that if he closes his eyes, he will always be that stupid, scared little sixteen year old, holding the cooling body of dead best friend.

[fanfoolishness]

Failure (~680 words, Lucanis x Rook)

-

You have this.

It was something he used to whisper to himself when he was young, a push to keep himself going through training, through trials, through torture. The words echoed in his mind, his voice or Spite’s, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was both of them blurring together. You have this.

Yes. He had this. He was the Demon of Vyrantium, was he not? An Antivan Crow who never betrayed a contract? This was nothing like the slaying of a god. This was conquest. Romance. It was time he took control.

Lucanis took a step forward, drawing breath deep into his lungs. He tried to remember every crumb he’d ever gleaned from romance novels and Illario’s exploits. He fixed his gaze on Rook’s face, her pale eyes half-lidded, a smile playing about her lips. 

For a moment the nerves vanished as he gazed at her. Her smiles, her jokes, her kindness; they did banish the gloom he so often struggled with. Rook cared about him. She had made it clear between checking up on him after episodes with Spite, with how she had been attentive to him after his failure at Weisshaupt. More than that, there had been teasing smiles, a playful glint in her eyes. He wasn’t blind. He simply… had not been sure how to respond.

You have this. He drew near to her, his heart hammering within his chest, uncertainty crawling beneath his skin.

He rested his arm against the wall. He wasn’t tall, but neither was she, and here he had the edge. This close he could smell her hair -- the scent of woodsmoke and fine clean ash, hints of her Mourn Watcher rituals -- with every breath he took.

Rook was beautiful. He understood that. 

She… liked him. He believed he understood that.

There were steps he was supposed to take now.

He smiled, slow, languid, targeted like he’d seen Illario do a thousand times. Then Rook reached out, brushing her finger against his chest. Her magic lay in fire and necromancy, and yet it was lightning he felt arcing through his body. His heart stuttered. This was correct, wasn’t it? This was part of it?

Why. Afraid! Spite howled in the back of his mind. But fear wasn’t the right word for it. Lucanis didn’t have a word for it. 

He said something -- one of the lines he’d thought useful from a romance novel, about walking too close to the edge -- and Rook smiled, leaning towards him. He leaned a little closer in response, holding his breath. Yes. This was what he was supposed to do. She closed her eyes. Her mouth shifted, waiting for a kiss -- waiting for him --

You have this!

He pulled back abruptly, curling a hand close over his chest, his eyes stinging. “I… need to clear my head.” 

He turned away. He could feel her confused gaze upon him, but he couldn’t bear to look her in the eye. “Excuse me.” He turned tail, quick sharp strides out of the narrow pantry, making for the kitchen. He took the side stairs up two at a time until he found himself out on the rickety platform, looking out at the endless white void. His breath tore in his chest.

He leaned back against the stone, one of the few reliable things in this world of the ephemeral. It felt real. Solid, cold, sturdy. He sank down the wall into a crouch and folded over himself, hands tucking tight beneath his arms, and bowed his head.

Ruined! Spite snapped. Why. Leave Rook?

“I wish I knew!” Lucanis growled beneath his breath.

Spite fell mercifully quiet. But the demon’s silence brought no respite, for now his own shame and confusion ringed viciously round his head, crueler than anything Spite could manage on his own.

Lucanis screwed his eyes shut, willing himself to let it go. He had survived torture and possession. He could survive this misstep. But he saw Rook’s face, hopeful and curious and leaning towards his own.

He wondered if she would forgive him this failure.

If he could forgive himself.

[tommygotwrittenoff]

bobby says to eddie one shift where buck is home sick with chris. going home to see your boys? eddie smiles and says. yeah. and your boys just Sticks in eddies brain and when he gets home he sees chris and buck curled up on the couch asleep and the sight makes him pause cuz. yeah. those are his boys

[surreal-duck]

needless to say i am utterly obsessed with the class 2-3 maid triple threat (and other doodles)

[blaithnne]

Oh so I’m supposed to choose one outfit for The Goldie O’Gilt? Get a fucking grip

Meet the Cast!

╰┈➤ Canon ☄. *. ⋆

→ Scrooge McDuff → Matilda McDuff → Hortense McDuff → Qalhata Duiker → Jack Duckworth → Bentina Beakley → LÙ Huifen (pre-caseflies) → LÙ Huifen (post-casefiles) → Ludwig Von Druska → Bradford Butcher

╰┈➤ OCs ☄. *. ⋆

→ Lucrais NicRiada

.ೃ࿐

[dewwshi]

i read homeland and this is mostly the impression i got

[sluckythewizard]

FIIIINALLY almost nailed my designs for lizzie and caspian can i get a HEEEELLL YEAAH???? i think these two make a vvery cute duo and i cannt wait to see them again. i also hope they both get hurt reaaaallly really badly. togeter

[shrinkthisviolet]

Gotta love that the ATLA fandom collectively shifted from Zuko/Katara to Zuko/Sokka during the 2020 renaissance due to a growing appreciation for Kataang…

…but Maiko still gets paid absolute dust 🫠 what, y’all can finally appreciate Kataang (about mf time), but Mai has to either be abusive, cold, or the stereotypical “mean lesbian”? And the most she’s allowed to contribute now is to give birth to Izumi and then not even be her mom (on the rare occasions that Zuko/Sokka fic writers even let Mai be Izumi’s birth mom)? Very progressive…

[grogumaximus]