#spoiler alert: hes into it

[platinum-roulette]

Pretty boy

[lilislegacy]

percy, walking in the door: what smells so good?

annabeth, beaming: i made you every type of blue dessert that i could think of!

percy: oh yeah? what’s the occasion? oh crap, did i forget an anniversary?

annabeth: can’t a wife just bake for her husband?

percy, staring at her:

annabeth, staring at him:

percy, firmly: wise girl, we are not having another baby.

annabeth, frustrated: oh come on percy! why not?

percy: we’ve talked about this. we agreed to be done years ago. we have three, and they’ve destroyed half of our belongings! i mean, sure it would be fun, and i love babies and having kids with you, but we can’t just—

annabeth: if you agree to another baby, i’ll agree to another dog.

percy:

annabeth:

percy: are you bribing me into having a child?

annabeth: of course not! …why? is it working?

percy: of course not! but… keep talking.

annabeth: we can get a brand new little puppy. and you can choose both the breed and the name. maybe you can finally get that shepherd mix you’ve always wanted.

percy, rubbing his beard and thinking:

percy: you know, i’ve heard the transition from 3 to 4 kids is super easy. the little one would probably just fit right in.

annabeth: exactly. and since we’re so busy, my pregnancy will fly by. and the labor will be super fast since it’s my 4th. it’ll all happen in the blink of an eye. we’ll hardly even notice.

percy: true. then the baby and the puppy can just entertain each other.

annabeth: they’ll practically cancel each other out. and this way we’ll have an even number of kids.

percy, pointing at her: good for roller roasters.

annabeth, pointing at him: and family game nights.

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio Nobody Knows AU DP x DC Part 4

Part 3

(Tim POV! This is a long one 😅)

 Tim almost has it. He's so close to cracking this file he can fucking taste it. He's been fighting this thing for two weeks. It's the most incomprehensible and infuriating code he's ever faced off against, which is fitting considering who gave it to them.

The engineer. THEIR engineer. The engineer they didn't ask for and Tim still isn't sure how they got, and the single biggest mystery in Tim's fucking life right now.

See, a significant amount of Bat gadgets at this point are Tim's brainchildren. He imagines them, he designs them, he workshops and tests them.

A few months ago, he'd had a pouch on his utility belt full of experimental pellets meant for slowing down fleeing vehicles. They were designed to break when run over and the compound inside would expand into durable, sticky foam that would ensnare tires.

He'd tested them in the cave.

He had not been prepared to take one hit to that side and have to frantically divest himself of that pouch before he became Gotham's latest foam based cryptid. 

His family had laughed themselves silly at him even as he broke off in pursuit of the drug runners he'd been fighting.

When Tim had doubled back expecting a mess to clean up and pellets to rework? It had been gone. All of it. The foam, the pellets, the pouch of his utility belt.

A serious problem, because who knows who got their hands on that?

Then it had shown back up.

That is to say, Gordon had called them because he found a pouch with a note labeled ‘for Red Robin’ sitting on the stand of the Bat Signal and didn't dare touch it.

After making sure it wasn't a bomb or some kind of biological weapon, Tim had opened the pouch - his own belt pouch - and found pellets. New pellets. Different pellets.

The note just read, “As funny as that was to watch, I fixed them for you. No more premature sploogage on the job. :3 P.S. here's a recipe for solution to dissolve future intentional discharges.”

They'd been right, too. The new pellets were tested (in case THEY were a bomb or biological weapon) and they'd been just strong enough to safely transport but still break when under the pressure of tires. Even the foam was more effective, and the spray Tim synthesized from that stupid recipe had worked like a dream.

What. The fuck.

This person not only improved his design and came up with a dissolution agent from scratch in days, they'd been watching without him knowing and made off with the original pellets without anyone noticing.

This was either a rogue in the making or someone they wanted on their side, and either way they needed to be found.

So Tim had done the obvious.

He'd put together a lockbox of money for the product they'd been given, loaded it with no less than ten (10) bat trackers and a note thanking their mysterious benefactor and requesting to meet up. He'd exploded a foam pellet on a rooftop and left the box on it in the hopes they'd notice and find it, then hung around far enough to not be seen and close enough to beat feet as soon as the trackers started moving. 

They did not start moving. They all went offline simultaneously. 

Tim has never moved so fast in his life, and yet by the time he got to the rooftop there was a pile of foam and nothing else. Not even a trace of whoever took the lockbox.

The next day, there was a ping of one (1) tracker that led them to a note thanking him for the money, refusing to meet, and asking if they'd considered certain improvements to their grapples with schematics for said designs.

Thus started the most bizarre and infuriating chase through notes, money, helpful designs and disappearing trackers Tim has ever been a part of.

Last time, the engineer had left them a USB stick and a note claiming that since they really wanted to know about him so bad, they could have the information on the USB if they could crack the encryption on the zip file inside.

Obviously they screened heavily for viruses or backdoors, but long story short Tim has been trying to crack the fucking thing for two weeks and refuses to let Oracle help. It's personal. It's a matter of pride. 

He could swear the code itself has actively been sabotaging his attempts to hack it, which is, you know. Impossible. 

Ping!

Tim blinks, looking over at the map on another monitor of the Bat computer. 

“Motherfucker-”

He taps into Duke’s comms. This is the first time this has ever happened during the day shift, he wasn't expecting it.

“Signal! I need you on the roof of the warehouse on the corner of Fifth and Everest - a tracker just came online.”

Another thing that infuriates Tim. You can't just turn Bat trackers on and off. They're activated, and then they either stay active or they're destroyed. They can't be turned off and then reactivated.

And fucking yet.

Duke groans, but his own tracker starts making its way in that direction.

“Dude. He's gonna be long gone by the time I get there. He always is.”

“He can't run from me forever,” Tim insists. “I'm almost in this damn file, and I am going to find him and dangle him off a roof from his ankles for giving us this runaround, so help me God.”

“Uh huh,” Duke deadpans. “Sure you are. I'm almost there, and- oh look! A note. What a surprise!”

Tim hears Duke touch down on the rooftop, eyes on the code on his screen while his brother clears his throat and reads aloud.

“Ahem- ‘Good morning, sunshine!’ - guess that's me - ‘I hear some bats and birds have been murdering tires at an alarming rate with the way they drive their bikes-’”

Tim freezes. He's not listening anymore.

“Signal.”

“‘- and that just can't be good for business. Nobody wants a bald tire ruining a chase. So boy do I have the thing for you-”

“Signal!”

“What?”

“I got it.”

“Huh? Got what?”

“I cracked his file. I got it.”

Tim is staring, wide eyed and full of a mixture of elation and trepidation at the contents of the zip file. It's a single text file titled, ‘Wow! You did it!’

“Oh, shit? Well? What's in it?”

Tim swallows, mouse hovering over the file. He takes a deep breath, then double clicks.

The file opens.

Tim blinks.

“Red Robin? What's in it?”

Tim scrolls slowly down, disbelief and horror dawning across his face. “Oh my God.”

“What? Come on, man, talk to me.”

Tim scrolls further.

“Oh. My God.”

“Red? Red Robin, you're scaring me, man.”

Tim puts his face in his hands. Voice muffled, he responds.

“Duke.”

“...Red? You okay?”

“No.”

“No?”

“It's the entire Bee Movie script.”

Silence reigns for a solid five seconds before Duke breaks and descends into raucous, hysterical laughter.

Even muffled by his own hands, Tim's scream of rage scares the bats in the cave into a tizzy.

Part 5

Masterpost

[dekariosclan]

[skecherss]

(i think that's a threat)

[ghcstao3]

AU where ghost is a relatively famous voice actor—by name, anyway. he’s never shown his face in those ‘behind-the-scenes’ videos, doesn’t do red carpets for the bigger productions, always leaves the press junkets to his colleagues. he loves his job, don’t get him wrong, it’s fun and creative and he’s met some really great people, he just… has never wanted to be in the limelight. that’s not for him.

and it’s easy to get away with, because all of the voices he uses are not really his. there’s elements of him, sure, but nothing someone in person could necessarily place, unless they really listened close and were some kind of super fan. in real life, ghost is soft spoken, and maybe his voice is a little rough from the years before he learned how to properly take care of his vocal cords, but it’s still completely separate from all his characters. that was a rule he stuck with throughout his career—no using his real voice.

soap likes to consider himself a fan of simon riley.

(of his work, obviously. just his work. he definitely isn’t intrigued or anything by the mystery that is the voice actor. nuh uh. not at all.)

he’s seen just about every film and show that features one of the actor’s many voices, knows what little trivia is known of him, and, ultimately, he really respects the guy. his younger sister had finally landed herself a sizeable role in voice acting pretty recently after years of odds and ends, and soap knows how difficult it is to make it in the industry. so what if he may also have a little bit of a crush on the unknown man’s talent?

and so what if that little crush has presently brought him to a bookstore, because soap had heard simon would be voicing a character in some adaptation and soap wanted to get himself caught up? it’s fine. it’s normal. totally normal.

it’s in search of the book when soap accidentally stumbles into an absolute brick-wall of a man as he rounds the corner. soap mutters out apologies, goes to move past him, but then looks up and melts, just a little. because it’s then that soap discovers the prettiest set of brown eyes he thinks he’s ever seen. and when his gaze briefly flicks down—he sees that the man is holding the book he’d been looking for.

soap grins, does his best to look charming in spite of the fact that he’d just run into this poor, beautiful bastard. “was lookin’ for that one, too.”

the man’s brow furrows in confusion before he realizes what soap had been referring to. his eyes fall almost self-consciously to the book.

“oh, yeah. it’s a good book. gave my nephew my other copy, so i’m just…” the man lifts the book in some helpless gesture.

“hm.” soap nods. he can’t help but notice how soothing the man’s voice is, low and rough around the edges, but completely soft in the middle. “y’hear they’re making a movie?”

the man perks up, and for a moment soap wonders if that’s panic he sees flash in his eyes. he clears his throat. “yes, that’s actually why i’m, well. i owned it before, but because i’m doing the—because of the movie, i had to…” the man sighs, shoulders slumping. it’s endearing, the way he’s gotten so easily flustered, like he isn’t used to small talk. “never mind. i’ll let you… i hope you enjoy it. the book. and movie too, i guess.”

soap laughs, not unkindly. “the book, we’ll see. favourite actor’s in the movie, so i’ll probably like it either way.”

“yeah?” the man cocks his head, curious. “who’s that?”

unashamedly, soap replies, “simon riley.”

it’s not unnoticeable, the way the man’s face blossoms a faint pink before he coughs and ducks his head. “he’s, uh. heard he’s good,” he says. “so others say.”

for a moment, it looks like the man is preparing to bolt, so soap sticks out his hand as a last-minute resort to keep him around just a little longer. “i’m john. friends call me soap. long story, but if you maybe let me take you out for some coffee, i could tell you?”

apprehension lines the man’s posture, but he eventually tucks the book under one arm and shakes soap’s hand. “friends call me ghost. and i’d like that.”

ghost’s hand is warm, his grip firm. soap tries not to let himself linger in the touch.

“sounds like a date.” soap smiles up at ghost. “did you want to do that today, or…?”

ghost shakes his head. “can’t today. but i can give you my number?”

soap agrees, but as he reaches for his phone he’s met with an empty pocket and the realization that he’d left it on the counter at home. he sighs, feeling disheartened, readying an excuse when he gets an idea. “d’you have a pen?”

ghost does, in fact, have a pen, though soap supposes he could’ve just gone and bought one from the bookstore just as well. soap tells him to stay put a minute, goes to retrieve his own copy of the book, and comes back with it opened to the first page.

“i’m buying it, anyway,” soap says. and it’s commemorative, he doesn’t add, of the day and reason we met. because he’s hopeful this may actually go somewhere.

ghost writes his phone number inside, deliberately hands the book back to soap with the cover pressed closed by his thumb, and they head to the register together.

it’s only when soap gets home and finally goes to type ghost’s number into his phone that he sees, above the digits, a small simon :) inscribed on the paper.

[tonycries]

Nanami uses-his-technique-the-way-it-shouldn't-be-used Kento, actually doesn't even have to use his cursed technique to hit at all your sweetest spots. He just knows you that well that you're cockdrunkenly starting to wonder that it has to be some sort of special jujutsu?

It has to be the work of not just him and his ruthless hips. Swiping his fat cock down all your sensitive spots like he'd mapped them out for ages before, crashing into them over and over so hard that you wonder whether it's bruising.

It has to be, right?

[warning-heckboop]

Hazel, Jasmine, and Winn find their plans to mend fences disrupted when they discover Anti-Fairy magic is evident in Dev's reoccurring nightmares.

So do you guys ever get so invested in a fake episode that you made up in your head that you make a fake title card and synopsis for it? No? Yeah, me neither.

[introspectivememories]

im sorry but i choose to believe that tim drake is the most insufferable "my man, my man, my man" girl about bear. he does not shut up about him. steph is cooking smth in the kitchen? oh my man can do that. bear cooks really well. dick triaging some poor victim on an emergency site? oh my man is really good at that. mhmm, bear is on his way to becoming a paramedic. damian building something? oh my man is really good with power tools. have you ever seen him build ikea? it takes him less than an hour. for our anniversary, he built me a coffee table. mhmm isn't he amazing? yeah my man did that. yeah my man, mhmm that's my ma-

[giddlygoat]

based on this au i made. don’t worry, i’m sure they’ll work it out

[gloomysoup]

i was GOING to write this weekend, but instead i've made the decision that i'm going to landscape my entire backyard on my own (usually my mom does all of the landscaping) and i've been cleaning it out all weekend. it is taking forever. so uh here's a snippet of a wip to make up for not doing like... anything lately :D

-

“You've got a boy in your bed,” the older man stated, clearly not a question anywhere to be seen. It was merely an observed fact of life.

“I do,” Eddie said slowly, unsure where this conversation was headed or how to explain what was actually happening.

“You haven't had a boy in your bed in a long time.” Again, it was merely a statement. No question. Again, Wayne was right. Eddie hadn't even thought about meeting someone else since Steve disappeared, and Wayne was plenty aware of that. “Not since Steve.”

Eddie knew Wayne was taking a chance saying Steve’s name. It had been a sensitive subject for a long time. Eddie took a deep breath and tried to decide how best to say it. Wayne clearly doesn't know that the boy in his bed is Steve, if the way he was looking at Eddie was anything to go by.

“This somethin’ we should talk about? I know you've been havin’ a rough go of it since last summer, and then whatever the hell happened over spring break. You ain't self destructin’, are ya?”

“No, no, it's nothing like that,” Eddie said quickly, throwing a glance over his shoulder to his bedroom door, which was left slightly cracked. “Um, actually, it's- God, I really don't know how to say this other than to just say it.” Wayne looked at him with an expectant eyebrow raised. “It's Steve.”

[aftgscenes]

Bitches will get sooo mad at Nora for saying Neil and Andrew don’t say I love you because “they deserve to heal!!!” But then they completely ignore her when she says Andrew bottoms and they are both switches -like girl your heteronormativity is showing

[ultravioletbrit]

“wind” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 368 words

Regulus is sitting by the Black Lake with James. James’ back is against a large tree, and Regulus’ back is against James’ chest.

The sun has already dipped below the horizon, but Regulus hasn’t realized how cold it’s gotten until a particularly strong gust of wind makes him shiver in James’ arms.

“We should head in.” James says as he’s rubbing his hands up and down Regulus’ arms.

“Not yet.” Regulus pouts and snuggles impossibly closer to James.

“Love, you’re freezing. Plus, we’re already late for dinner.” James tells him.

“Ugh. Fine.” Regulus grumbles as he stands up.

The wind continues to blow, making Regulus’ teeth chatter. James shakes his head as he takes off his scarf and wraps it around Regulus’ neck then uses the ends to pull him in for a kiss. They get lost in each other for a moment before Regulus shivers again and James pulls away with a small chuckle.

“Let’s get you inside, love.” James takes Regulus hand, and they walk back to the castle.

———

His friends are already eating by the time Regulus makes his way to the Slytherin table.

“You’re late, Black.” Barty snarks as Regulus sits down.

“I didn’t know I had to check in with you, Crouch.” Regulus fires back with no real heat.

“No, but it would’ve been nice to let us know you were switching houses.” Barty smirks at him.

Regulus looks at him confused until Evan nods towards Regulus’ neck. Regulus looks down and his eyes go wide when he sees the bright red Gryffindor scarf wrapped around his neck. 

“Now…” Barty continues. “Whose could that be, I wonder.” He dramatically taps his finger on his chin.

Unfortunately, James chooses this exact moment to enter the Great Hall. Regulus resists the urge to groan as Barty and Evan are barely holding back their amusement.

“Hmmm…” Barty hums. “Potter also happens to be late for dinner. And is suspiciously missing a scarf. Curious.”

“You know what?…” Regulus starts but then realizes he has no defense. “Shut it, Crouch.” He grumbles after a moment.

Barty and Evan’s laughter fills the Great Hall and Regulus drops his head in his hands, knowing his face is probably the same color as the scarf around his neck.

[your-dead-european-ancestor]

Dick: aw cmon timmys just a little guy

Bruce: im sure he had his reasons

Alfred: im certain you'll find that master tim is quite reasonable. He wouldn't do anything outrageous

Barbara: tim isnt stupid. Im sure this is all part of his plan

Literally anyone else gesturing at tims entire vigilante career:

[idliketobeatree]

hey do you think Charles would fall for Niko shouting "help! Edwin is not moving, he needs CPR!" dropping everything like oh shit and getting deadly serious ready for that mouth-to-mouth action, as Crystal screams in the distance HE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE TO BREATHE CHARLES

[happi-dreams]

I watched electric dreams finally !!!!!

It’s so good and odd but ohshdkebdkwbdhmehdh EDGARRR !!! EDGAR I LOVE YOUU !!!!!! ! ! ! ! YOU DESERVE BETTER !!!!!

When I saw the ending I SOBBED what the HELL,,,,,