#spring break week

[fishfission-dc]

Batfamily Powerpoint Night! (Part 7: Damian)

<<Part 6: Steph    |    Part 8: Duke >>

[Masterlist]

Damian: I volunteer to present next.

Steph: Damian’s will either be really boring or really interesting...

Cass (signing): Really interesting, apparently.

Bruce: Damian, is this appropriate?

Jason: This seems like a cop out for me-

Tim: We get it Jason we know you died

Dick: Ohhhhh so this is actually thinly veiled love for us all.

Bruce: Hn. (disgruntled appreciation)

Damian: Absurd. I am simply planning you all to combat likely scenarios. For tactical reasons.

Steph: He loves us :)

Damian: Tactical reasons.

Dick: I AM A GOOD DRIVER

Jason: Debatable.

Barbara: Not that debatable when you see the Gotham City Police Department’s record on his license. 

Dick:  D:

Barbara: I’ll take that to heart Damian thank you for the concern.

Duke: Who taught Damian what girlbossing is?

Steph: Damian flawless use of that vocabulary.

Damian: Thank you.

Duke: Why did I ask when we all knew the answer.

Jason: WHERE DID YOU EVEN GET MY MUGSHOT

Duke: Did you dye your hair?

Steph: He’s a natural ginger but he’s just emo about it or something

Jason: THIS IS SO FOUL I HATE YOU GREMLIN

[noises of violence]

Dick: You should consider therapy though like actually 

Tim: MINE IS A WHOLE NOVEL? AND THE PICTURE??? This is not thinly veiled love this is blatant hatred. 

Damian: You simply have a lot of flaws, Drake.

Jason: Your picture makes me feel a little better about mine.

Dick: Damian is the implication that you’re going to murder Tim for.. being annoying?

Damian: Interpret as you wish.

Steph: Wow. Fair, but wow.

Barbara: Is that a picture of you in a hostage situation?

Damian: The consequences of one of the aforementioned idiotic decisions.

Cass (signing): I love you too, Damian. :)

Dick: I’m sensing some aggression

Damian: I sure hope so

Bruce: Hn. (embarrassed but knowing)

Duke: Is this because of th-

Jason: Yes it’s because of the gang

Duke: I guess that’s fair.

Tim: Valid.

Steph: Immortal until proven mortal.

[unanimous agreement]

Alfred (from the other room): Thank you, young sir.

<<Part 6: Steph    |    Part 8: Duke >>

[Masterlist]

[expelliarmus]

[okkalo]

best big brother ever.

rindou x reader

genre(s): fluff, crack

hi, this is a tiktok trend for anyone wondering

“if you wanna get to him, you gotta get through me first,” your possessive and bold words immediately drew rindou’s attention towards you. his lilac eyes narrowed as he confusingly tried to make sense of the situation.

rindou had been minding his own business on the couch, listening to some songs out loud. when you had come over to sit next to him, which was just a second ago, he paid it no mind. but, now you were threatening your phone camera?

as if he wasn’t already in a confused state, you turned to face him with that mischievous smile he’s come to dread. then, your hand clawed around his chin, pulling him closer to smash your lips against his.

now he was in complete shock.

before he could even comprehend what the hell was happening, you pulled away just as swiftly as you came and turned back to your phone.

“best brother ever,” you enunciated, a proud smile adorning your lips. rindou’s heart stopped. his hand immediately flew to snatch your recording phone away from you, throwing you a disgusted glare at the same time.

“what the hell is wrong with you?” his question made it hard not to just burst out laughing then and there.

“what do you mean, big bro?” you innocently asked, your tone much softer as you tilted your head at him. he hated the way his heart fooled him to feel a pang of guilt at the sight of your obvious act.

“i’m not your big bro!” he hurriedly replies, giving your shoulder a small shove. unlucky for you, he was quick to move his attention back to your phone, obviously about to delete the video.

“rindou, it’s a prank! don’t delete the video!” you hastily beg, moving to try to claim your phone back from his hands.

“i’m not letting you make people think we’re siblings,” he grumbled, practically jumping over the joke and continuing to hold the phone out of your reach. his fingers were quick to delete the video, much to your dismay. his reaction truly would’ve gone viral.

“rin, that’s a whole trend. no one’s gonna believe we’re siblings,” the whine leaves your lips, upset that he deleted something so funny. in his eyes, he couldn’t believe that you were the one pouting. still, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of guilt.

he huffed, tossing your phone back to you. “don’t care, that was probably the stupidest thing you’ve ever said. i’m saving you face,” he claimed, moving his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. despite his words, he was obviously trying to make you feel somewhat better.

“geez, rin, i take what back what i said earlier. you’re actually the worst brother ever,” you mirrored his huff with an eye roll, not being able to resist teasing him.

“i’m not your brother!” he immediately replied, pushing you away from him once again. unlucky for him that he’s just so easy to poke fun at.

[ask-lu-wild]

[ochiody]

@serennedyweek day 2: western

[t00thpasteface]

trade secret!

[edgeray]

One Hell of a Butler Pt.1

Encounter (Arlecchino x Fem! Reader Blurb)

A/N: Guys. I am so sorry. I don't think that Arlecchino oneshot is being posted tomorrow. 😿Trust that it will be posted this weekend. Take this as an apology (I am fr spoiling y'all Arle fans) for the pushback. This is a repost to something I submitted as an anon to @/megistusdiary so there's a chance you've already seen this. It was written a while ago so quality is not up to par. This is the Black Butler inspired demon au! that I talked about in my poll, check it out if you want a little bit more on this concept. (Thank you guys for voting in it! :33 I'm looking forward to writing the oneshots). Series Masterlist Content Warning: Semi-graphic descriptions of violence

Everything hurts. It burns, burns, burns, and you can't feel your limbs and your vision fades in and out. Your broken form twitches on the ground, and as your assailants approach you, ready to wrench the remaining life out of you slowly and painfully, with your final burst of energy and concentration, you let out a guttural screech, a summoning spell spewing from your raspy throat and bloodied teeth. 

At first, you think nothing happens. They stalk you, unfaltering despite what you have just called for. Wearing teeth-baring grins and depraved intentions, they near your crumpled body, with their dirty, despicable hands reaching out towards you. Your half-lidded eyes shut fully, and you heave out a sigh of resignation, giving up the futile struggle of staying alive. 

You hear it first before you actually see it. A sound distinct only to stilettos clicking against the ground. It jerks your attention immediately, and you twist your head slowly to face the oncoming figure. Black heels with gold adornment catch your eye, and then--

"Well, well, looks like I found the doll that called me," you hear a deep, feminine voice sibilates, voice reverberating throughout the chamber. Your gaze slowly trails up the newcomer's figure, and the white clothing, snow-white hair, and feminine features cause you to mistake her as an angel. Red-crossed pupils meet with yours. A shiver works its way up your spine but you stare in awe regardless. What kind of human was this?

One of your tormenters inquires rather rudely about the woman and storms towards her haughtily, ignorant of the fact he has just sealed his fate. There's an audible, irate click of her tongue, then a snap echoes the room. For a brief moment, your sight is filled with just red, and then your eyes widen as the aggressor bursts into a beautiful explosion of blood and guts. She walks past where once the man stood without pause, now just a puddle of blood, tutting at the blatant disrespect of the formerly alive human. Her feet stop just before you and her shadow looms over.

"A-arle...cchino?" You croak weakly as your hazy gaze sets on her. She looks so handsome, beautiful like a guardian angel, even when she's covered in red. Her lips curl up slightly and she crouches down to hook an arm behind your back and knees, lifting you bridal-style. Heat radiates from her cold-blooded being and it is so much more comforting than the icy hardness of the floor. You immediately bury your face into her shoulder while your needy hands grip onto her coat out of desperation and fear. Beneath the intense iron smell of blood, she smells of something floral, you noted with dulled surprise. 

"That is me, the Knave. And what have you called me for?" She purrs from above, repositioning you in her arms so she could support you with one arm instead of both. 

You give one single glance behind your shoulder towards the now cowering group of people, their behavior reminding you of feeble sheep rather than the bloodthirsty pack of wolves. You think that you'd like lamb chops after all of this. 

Turning your head back, you suck in a steady breath, your voice unwavering and clear despite being muffled into her clothes. "Kill them." 

"As you wish." 

Even as she draws out the sweetest, most revolting of screams from the remaining alive people, you find peace in your arms. You don't watch, instead, opting to rest your head against her and try to fall asleep to your former captors' begs of mercy. A hand combing through your hair wakes you up. You admire her sharpened red nails and her black hands, so contrasting against her unblemished and perfect skin but pretty all the same. It looks nice, sifting through your hair, it feels right, it feels perfect, even if they're dipped in blood.

"Well, I suppose we can work out the contract at a later time. For now, rest, my dear," her voice is soft and it lulls you to sleep in her arms. She tucks your head underneath her chin and walks away from the bloodbath, her darling wrapped tightly close to her.

[shushmal]

Steve notices when Eddie disappears from the party, almost immediately. Robin and the others are crossfaded and a little weepy, and Steve knows they're excited—and scared. They're all heading out next week, Robin to Chicago, Nancy to New York, Jonathan to California. So they didn't notice it, when Eddie got up for the bathroom and didn't come back.

Steve did. Steve's pretty good at recognizing stuff like that, especially when it's painfully familiar.

He's pretty loud when he crawls through his own bedroom window out onto the roof, loud enough that Eddie startles and drops his cigarette onto the asphalt shingles.

"H-Hey!" he says, all false cheer despite the croak in his voice and the sniffling—the way he wipes quickly at his face.

"Hey," Steve says, going for softness and compassion. God knows he's spent many a night out here crying by himself. He doesn't want Eddie to think he's being a dick about it. "You okay?"

"Yep!" Eddie says, pitched too high and the words crack between his lips. "Totally fine! I'll come down in a bit so—"

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Eddie's teeth clack together when he shuts his mouth, falling into silence as Steve settles down at his side. Neither of them say anything. Faintly, they can hear the murmur of their friends' voices, mixed with the summer night call of forest frogs and bugs. Steve thinks about chasing fireflies in the back yard when he was little, how the dark woods are near impenetrable to Steve now, the boyhood security long stripped from him.

Beside him, Eddie wipes at his face again, his elbow brushing Steve's arm because Steve's sat himself so close. Steve, carefully not thinking about it, leans over—further and further—until his head hits Eddie's shoulder.

The sound Eddie makes is soft and broken, so Steve tucks himself even closer into Eddie's side, arm going around his back, and closes his eyes just so he could overwhelm himself with the warmth radiating from Eddie, the smell of soap and sweat and weed, the feel of Eddie's hair on his head when Eddie bows his head as he cries, hair long and curtaining the two of them—Eddie keeping Steve, pulling him in to witness his private grief.

[stnexus]

ino’s compliments are definitely never just mindless words. especially when he’s been staring at you — watching you move about in your own little world. just seeing how you go about your day, his baby all occupied and busy as you work from home for the day. taking phone calls and occasionally grazing past him as you try and locate certain papers around your home.

“you look extra pretty today, baby.” he’d speak in a hushed whisper in your ear as he spontaneously pulls you onto his lap. your phone pressed to your other ear as you take an important call — smiling a bit sheepishly as you try not to giggle at him landing a quick kiss on your neck. “but i’ll let you go, i know you’re handling business. come back to me when you’re done, yeah?”

with a little nod from yourself and another quick kiss, on your cheek this time, he’d stay true to his word. letting you stand he’d land a light pat on your butt, causing your words to stutter for a second as he tries to not laugh as he throws a smile your way.

[canisalbus]

It's unexpectedly cold in coastal Canada right now (it's raining and snowing very hard and fast, and before the sun set it was also very sunny) and the floors are cold, so I find myself concerned for your warmth. Are you doing alright?

Aw, that's very sweet of you to ask, I'm fine! Here in Northern Finland it's slowly getting warmer, the temperatures seem to stay at around 0°C during the day so the snow has started to melt. Then it gets a little colder at night and those wet slushy roads freeze, and when it warms up again the next day there's a layer of water on top of the melting ice and as you can imagine it gets extremely slippery. I cycle everywhere throughout the year and even with winter tires it's kind of precarious. Other than that I'm enjoying the increasing amount of natural light and the birds have started to sing again.

[plutonex]

rain world art month, day 1: rivulet

[expelliarmus]

[mothinabirdcage]

MCYT Chat Screenshots (Part 5)

5 Pictures for part 5! I have way too many of these haha

This is actually the end of the ones I have saved up, so updates to this “series” will be slower now that I’m going to have to find new ones before I post them :)

[wayfinderships]

SPRING COMMISSIONS ARE: CLOSED

Since spring has come, I thought I should try opening some commissions for the season! Both options are $30 USD and payment can be done via PayPal or Ko-fi. Payment must be done Upfront!

I'll start with 5 slots this time around! If you're interested in a commission, please contact me via DMs! Also if you'd like any small changes to your commission such as expressions, umbrella design, etc. Do let me know! I'd be more than happy to do those small changes for you! ^^

✅ Will Do: Fanart, OCs, Self Inserts, Complicated Designs, Furry

❌ Won't do: Proship Content, Mecha, Certain Media (V.ivziepop Series, A.ttack on T.itan, H.arry P.otter)

[tallmadgeandtea]

This week on Turn Twitter:

[faketrex]

FirstPrince, 12

Thank you, Chrissy! 💝 For prompt number 12, "the beach at ten on a Monday morning."

RWRB, canon divergence: different first meeting, set in April 2016 (nearly a year after Arthur's death but still before Rio, and well before the first Claremont Election Day).

...

If Henry had been thinking ahead, he might not have adopted a puppy immediately before fleeing the country for a week.

His Royal Highness Prince Henry will undertake a Spring Tour of French Basque Country. This will include visits to…, per Royal Communications.

Translated, Unfortunately, HRH Prince Henry would have gone irretrievably off his bloody rocker if he had spent one second more suffocating in Kensington Palace’s gray cloud of mourning. Therefore, he's going away to convalesce by the sea for a tick. Best of luck to him.

Hopefully, a week in Biarritz will set him to rights. He'll return freed of the temptation to smash vases and tea settings and any number of priceless stolen artifacts for the sole purpose of eliciting any reaction other than pity.

David the puppy may yet have a penchant for breaking things, but he's cute enough to get away with it. Henry had grown out of such a forgiving stage years earlier.

At ten a.m. on a chilly Monday morning in April, the Plage de la Côte des Basques is nearly empty. It's too cold to swim, in Henry's opinion. David doesn't care; he bounds across the sand where the waves crest and crash onto the beach, zig-zagging on his lead and getting soaked in the process. Although he's much too small to swim, he's adept at making himself thoroughly wet and sandy and sharing those conditions with Henry by shaking his tiny body to fling water over Henry's rolled-up trousers.

Watching David play, it's easy to almost forget how he'd woken Henry appallingly early after a near-sleepless night–Henry's, that is. Henry had lain awake until four in the morning, staring at the ceiling. All the while, David had slept peacefully in his dog bed, curled next to a plush toy. He had woken Henry at seven a.m. without the slightest hint of remorse.

Luckily, he's adorable.

When they return to Henry's spot on the sand, he sits and wraps David in a towel, settling him on his lap to keep him warm. Aside from the waves, the seagulls, and the chatter from surfers carrying their boards across the sand, the beach is quiet.

Henry feels muzzy with fatigue and his heart aches, still, as it has for the past eleven months, but it doesn't overwhelm him. For once, the ache is more sore than sharp.

"Hey, can I say hi to your puppy?"

The boy is standing several meters away, likely in deference to the dark-suited PPO lurking nearby. He's close enough for Henry to get a good look at him, though: dark curls hanging in dripping ringlets over his forehead, a black wetsuit bearing the stylized blue wave logo of one of the surf schools, a sharp square jawline. The grin on his face doesn't once falter while Henry looks him over.

Despite the persistent ache, Henry feels his heartbeat quicken. He might be several meters away, but that's nothing, really; he's not so far that Henry can't recognize the danger.

A boy like that could set him on fire.

David wriggles in his lap, grumbling, and the boy's smile widens.

Henry should turn him away.

"Yes," he says instead. "But you'd better have a seat so that I can hold his lead. He's a very good boy, but he's rather excited to be at the beach today."

"Cool," the boy says, dropping unceremoniously onto the sand within reach of Henry's blanket. "I'm Alex."

"Henry."

The moment of realization as Alex connects Henry's name to his face to, presumably, his status as a figurehead-in-training, is painfully obvious: Alex's expression melts from friendly interest, to surprise, to hesitance.

It was too much to hope that Alex wouldn't recognize him. His accent sounds American, but that's no matter. Even Americans aren't unaware of the unfortunate persistence of the British monarchy. There's no denying that Henry has a famous face; if the monarchy hadn't cursed him to that, being Arthur Fox's son would have sufficed. Still, he wouldn't give up being his father's son for any of it.

Henry sticks out his chin a little and doesn't look away. "I'm Henry," he repeats. "And… this is David."

Alex keeps staring at him, but slowly, oh-so slowly, one of his eyebrows creeps upward. "Henry and David, huh? Are you two planning a hostile takeover of the fruit basket industry?"

It's nothing like any reaction that Henry could have expected, no mention of the Queen or James Bond. There's no pity on Alex's face, either, just the hint of a sly smile accented by the sheen of drying seawater. "I–what?"

"It's–you know, like Harry and David?"

"I'm afraid I don't," Henry says, unwrapping David's towel and setting him down, dry and slightly fluffy, on the sand between them. "And I said Henry, not Harry."

"What a waste of a great joke," Alex complains, but his grin has fully returned–at David's antics, surely.

"You should consider yourself lucky to meet him now, in fact. David is going to grow up to be an international rock star."

"Oh, yeah?" Alex holds one hand still while David gives it a thorough sniff.

"Exactly right," Henry affirms. "In the footsteps of Bowie."

"David Beagle Bowie, huh? That's fucking cute."

A sea cure, really. Henry has always been an Austen fan, but the dream of convalescence had only been a dark joke. But perhaps–well, he can't help but wonder.

And Alex, for his part, seems in no hurry to leave.