#stubborn boi

[homefryboy]

*vegeta voice* i just didn’t care anymore

(commissions open)

[itsdabatt]

welcome to my Little Red Hood AU (where Jason doesn’t go through super puberty and the consequences of having stunted growth and still trying to be an intimidating crime lord)

In which the bats see a 5’4 crime lord and wonder who left their angry child unattended

The design is heavily Inspired by Juni Ba’s Boy wonder red hood who is the shortest of the older boys i was so delighted to see it and i desperately needed more. I also made him look a little more like how he did when he died :]

[rhadko]

[casually-eat-my-soul]

Okay so like stick with me but young Derek, alive hale fam au.

So like the Hale family finds out that Derek has a crush on Sheriff Stilinski’s delinquent son, and has mixed reactions. Talia is torn between amusement, worry and wanting to dislike stiles. Papa hale is very protective but thinks it funny that him and his son have the same tastes.

Peter is ecstatic, Stiles once beat him in chess when running from the cops. (stiles was running and sat down in the park around people for cover, turns out he interrupted a chess tournament. Peter challenged him to a game if stiles lost, Peter would turn him over to the police. If he won, stiles could use him as an alibi)

The rest of his siblings don’t really have an opinion other than using Derek’s crush to make fun of him EXPECT for Laura. Laura is in a one sided rivalry with stiles.

As the sheriff right hand deputy she was tasked with keeping an eye out for stiles and she constantly loses him. Which shouldn’t be possible because she’s a werewolf. She can never connect him to a crime he’s committed and can never prove anything. Can’t go to a judge a say “oh he left a scent trail which I followed because I’m a werewolf.”

Derek brings him home to dinner after they start dating. Unfortunately, the day that Derek brings him over, is also the day that Laura had to run around town taking reports of his crimes. She is fuming. Stiles looks her dead in her twitching eye and asked her how her day went.

The only crime she can connect him to is when he commit aggravated assault against a few of Derek’s teammates went to far with hazing. (Derek refused to fight back as not to hurt them) she lets him off.

[ashton-ryder]

No matter what he said the older man seem to always have a comeback and it was annoying to a certain degree, made more so because he was right in certain ways and Ash didn't have good arguments back, not without needing time to brood over it. "You get lost in the forest if you don't know the trees." He left it at that, not in the mood to argue on small things like his tendency to overthink when they had more important matters larger than himself.

Ashton's perception of hope was nothing if not warped, but Mr Wexley hadn't experienced how hope literally killed, had younger more youthful Ashton, not simply hoped that his marines team was going to make it out and hold tight lipped, suddenly those state secrets he held onto no longer felt worth the lives it costed with the hope that their country would save them. But he tried to listen, and understand from his perspective, because he's not wrong. While Ashton felt he thrived better without hope as a constant guillotine hanging over his head threatening to drop any time, he gets why people need it. Ash nodded but he held steadfast on his opinion, they can't just sit here serving themselves up on a silver platter and hope they don't take a bite at them. Instead of arguing back, Ash simply muttered, "I'll try and think of our defense plans and counter attacks." Even if no one else agrees with him, he'd at least need to try. Have things ready if they need it. What Ifs creeping in again, fear a stronger motivation to hope.

People are going to die. A sobering phrase he's heard since he was sixteen. "..I know." Doesn't mean he can't at least take whatever power and agency he had to make sure it's not the people he wanted to keep alive. The phrase didn't seem to affect him as much as it did the person who said it, having been in grained in him for long. It's that simple immense pressure of him making that decision with past mistakes haunting him.

It made him uncomfortable hearing Mr Wexley say that and ask him his usual question Ash asks him, usually expecting authority to give him something to work with. A direction, a mission, a brief, an order. He tore his gaze from Mr Wexley's to the keys now handed over in between them. For a second, Ash's gaze was almost pleading as if instinctively not wanting to do this, but somewhere else deep down, he knows he can do it, probably has to if he wanted to be useful in any way at all. It took Ashton a long time as they sat in silence before he broke the standstill with a rub of his temples, fuck it, the flicker of doubt and hesitancy had to be extinguished the moment he made the decision to take the keys, even if just symbolically.

"We need to focus on supplies to sustain everyone with the newcomers, what do the kids and the pregnant need. A renewed list of medical supplies from Ruth, Val and Mamode. We need to prepare for seeds for the summer, Beau is drafting out a plan for the garden. We need to start a water resource plan, and we'll need people on that. The fireworks has now drew the hordes south again we need eyes on the hordes movements, but that might open up the north for us that we have not explored much of yet." The moment that decision was made the switch was flicked on, yanking his mind straight into everything they need as he slowly walked over to the whiteboard, some of those things mentioned they had discussed briefly earlier, starting to write down the rest.

He paused to look back up to Mr Wexley, "and we need eyes on the raiders." If he was going to put Ashton in charge, he'll have to trust Ash on this one, he was not going to wait and hope for the best, "they'll notice that their team across the water did not come back, and they'll be able to guess the Wexley was involved, especially with those fireworks. We just need to keep an eye on their movements, and I can plan our defense."

"Because there will always be what-ifs, and then what-ifs to the what-ifs. It becomes a spiral, Ashton and before you know you you're marred down in the muck of what-ifs to the point that you forget where you started. You lose the forest through trees."

Nodding his head, understanding that viewpoint, Tobias couldn't help but sigh as he countered with his own. "And the lack of hope is even more so. Hope is what keeps people alive, Ashton. Without it, there's nothing left worth fighting for, and that's when people start giving up. Don't ever forget how powerful hope can be. Petty people or not."

The Wexley was heavily defensible high ground, practically a castle in the middle of New York City. They were in a good place for now, with one entrance in and out of the building and windows on all sides.

"Being out there got people killed, too. Staying here got people killed. You of all people should know, Ashton that in the world as it is now, people are going to die." The pain his own words caused him etched deeply into his face as the exhaustion, fear, and loss dropped hard and heavy back onto his shoulders. A burden he'd been carrying for so long it was a wonder he didn't walk with a hump.

"I don't have any orders for you, Ashton." Reaching down to pick up the keys off the table, he held them out to him. "You're in charge of the scouts now. What are my orders?"

[moffyloisee]

Young Kai offers you a flower

I got bored so here's a small drawing of tiny Kai :)

[frownyalfred]

do you think bruce has ever gotten drunk before? i don't mean brucie flirting about at the gala either i mean well and truly intoxicated lol. like the type where you wake up and have the worst headache known to man

Thank you for reminding me about one of my long lost headcanons. Which is that yes, Bruce has gotten that drunk (stealing liquor from the pantry as a child, normal stuff) but the only time he woke up and truly prayed for an end was during training with Ra’s Al Ghul when, as a reward, he and the other trainees were given a night off and a mysterious local liquor (something grain derived) spiked with something. and their “night off” became a test the next day, where they had to meditate and work through the after effects, flushing the toxins from their bodies while still completing their regular duties. it was all a lesson — learning that being poisoned can happen when you least expect it; that alcohol is a poison; and that sometimes you will have to work through it no matter how awful you feel. and so poor, pitiful hungover Bruce learned how to do what he does with ease as Brucie Wayne later — work through anything, whether it’s drugs, poison, fear toxin, alcohol, and be largely unaffected.

[ultravioletbrit]

“curl” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 305 words

 

Rainy days with Regulus are some of James’ favorite days. They make hot chocolate, put on a random movie, curl up on the couch together and forget the rest of the world exists.

Rainy days are normally James’ favorite, except today he’s in a fight with Regulus. It’s not a big fight, it’s just that Regulus is mad at James because he won’t apologize, and James is mad at Regulus because he can’t admit that’s he wrong. Regulus knows he’s wrong and James knows he should apologize, but they’re both too stubborn and now it’s just a point of pride.

So now it’s raining, and James is sitting on the couch alone trying to find a random movie to watch. He hears Regulus walk into the living room and he turns to look at him. Regulus doesn’t move any further into the room and he doesn’t say anything, he just narrows his eyes at James.

After about a minute of staring at each other Regulus seems to make a decision and shuffles across the room. He grabs a blanket, curls up on the couch resting his head on James’ lap and opens his book without saying a word.

After a moment, James decides to break the silence.

“Regulus? Are we–?” He starts cautiously.  

“I’m still mad at you, but I missed you, so play with my hair and let me read my book.” Regulus snaps but there’s very little heat behind it.

“Yes, love.” James says with a smile. He starts running his fingers through Regulus’ hair and puts on a random movie with the volume low so Regulus can still read his book.  

Later that night, while they’re curled up together listening to the rain, James will apologize to Regulus and Regulus will admit that he was “maybe, potentially, slightly less than accurate.”

[lukeshcmmings]

luke: you really think we've had eyes for eachother for that long? luke: i really don't know what you're talking about luke: waiting is a waste of time if you're actually waiting to make a move luke: wingman???? i don't need a wingman! luke: nothing's stopping me.

harry: i know that you see it. you guys have had eyes for each other for fucking years mate. harry: and things in my life lately have made me think about shit like that. harry: about how waiting is just a waste of time. harry: so i'm here to wingman you dude. be upfront with me, what's stopping you? you don't have to bullshit with me x

[cr1mson5returns]

Although I enjoy a good "Jack Drake is a physically and mentally abusive asshole and deeply homophobic" fic as much as the next ex-Catholic lesbian, I have to admit that I have a way softer spot in my heart for "clueless blundering ass who makes everything worse" Jack Drake.

Maybe it's because my own parents were deeply homophobic in a very different way to others. If you asked them, they'd tell you they have no problem with queer people. They don't care what anyone does in the privacy of their own home, really! Therefore they're not homophobic! But they just don't think you have to make it your whole personality. You don't have to shove it in everyone's faces. And all these new labels for things, what's up with that? Isn't it enough for people to just be gay or straight?

So because I do be projecting, I have a soft spot in my heart for Tim coming out to Jack as bisexual, and Jack just sort of...short-circuiting, for a hot minute. "Well, I'll always love you, son." And Tim thinks that this went pretty well, actually. But Jack later is maybe telling Tim that there are ground rules for him and his dates. Can't bring boys back to the house, strict curfew, has to let Jack know where he is and with whom at all times. Jack doesn't kick Tim out or anything, or call him names, but it's uncomfortable living there now in a way that it wasn't before. Jack has a weird vibe about him when Tim talks about a boyfriend or a male crush. Shuts down the conversation really quickly and won't entertain it any longer. Jack starts being critical of Tim in ways that he wouldn't if he didn't know about his son's sexuality; he asks why Tim feels the need to have a bi pride flag in his room, or why he has to make this his defining characteristic now. And Jack never actually says the word "bisexual." It's always "this." How they just need to leave "this" alone for a while, they need to not make every conversation about "this."

Because Tim is such a person to let a person's good characteristics speak miles more than their bad ones, if they're close enough to him. He has plans in place if Batman goes rogue, but not for his own protection, never for himself. Always for everyone else's benefit. He can live with what happens to him if he's wrong. So of course he'd never call his dad a homophobe, that's not - his dad didn't kick him out. Doesn't hit him or call him names or say mean things to him. It hurts his feelings sometimes, but he takes worse than that from street thugs every night. It's not like he can't handle his dad being a little weird about things.

Right?

[voiceofthesilly]

So we played the fury

[crismakesstuff]

i love that cecil once again tried to do the “your father felt the same way” on mark but this time mark just said “I need to listen to myself before I listen to you” and threw his earpiece out

THATS MY BOY LETS GO!!

[beartitled]

give the little goober voices some name tags

Done ✨

Contrarian is now named John-Thomas-George-William-David-Michael-Charles The Silliest

Others choose to stay unnamed 🤷

[coldranger]

Happy Halloween! Quiet and the voices are off to get some candy

[viperwhispered]

Rest

Guess what? I've got more Jamil x reader for y'all. You can also find this on ao3. No warnings, just 866 words of kinda fluffy(?) caretaking stuff with gender-neutral reader.

At this point, you know Jamil’s schedule almost as well as he does. So, when you have the chance, you head to Scarabia’s kitchen, hoping to spend some time with Jamil while he and the other students prepare dinner. 

However, when you enter, it takes you but a moment to notice Jamil’s uncharacteristic fumbling and the tired look in his eyes. The way Jamil’s chopping the vegetables has you worried about him cutting himself with that knife he’s usually so adept with, and it seems it’s only force of habit that’s keeping him on track.

You frown, and when your eyes meet Jamil’s, you can already see him put his guard up.

So he knows what state he is in, huh? And still, here he is.

It seems Jamil is reading your thoughts, all of him telling you drop it before any words are even said.

At least he still lets you lean in and give a quick kiss to his cheek in greeting.

“Hello love. Do you still have a lot on your agenda for today?” you ask, keeping your tone low for at least some semblance of privacy in the busy kitchen.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” is the response you get.

Of course.

It takes a little more pestering before Jamil actually answers your question. Your lips purse. That list is far too long to your liking.

You take a moment to think, juggling your own plans and to-do list against the urgency of the things Jamil mentioned.

“Will Kalim be eating from that?” you ask, pointing at the food Jamil is preparing.

“Yes.”

“Alright, I won’t be touching that one, then. I’ve gotta do a few things but I’ll be back when you’re done here.”

“Don’t,” Jamil says with a glare, clearly aware of what you’re thinking.

Yet even his disapproving look doesn’t have the usual weight behind it.

“Yes. I will,” you say firmly, even as your heart curls inwards with another bout of concern.

Really, when did he get so tired?

And how did you not notice it earlier?

You leave the kitchen before Jamil can protest further, hurrying through the dorm corridors to find Kalim.

Soon you have an enthusiastic – and concerned – supporter for your plans. You have Kalim point out a few reliable Scarabia students to help with a few of the most urgent matters Jamil mentioned – cleaning up the common areas, delivering some paperwork to Crowley, preparing some dorm-wide notices – while you see to Kalim getting his school supplies in order for the following day. You even recruit a couple of third years to help Kalim with his homework.

You’ll see to the rest tomorrow – after all, you do also have a boyfriend to look after.

Your conversation over dinner can hardly be called anything else than an argument – despite Kalim’s best attempts at acting as a moderating force between you two. It is very tempting to ask Kalim to tell Jamil to take the rest of the day off – it’s not like Jamil would be willing to openly disobey a direct order. Still, you really don’t need to remind Jamil of his position on top of everything else that you’re already doing more or less against his wishes.

Eventually, however, Jamil’s had a square meal, the most urgent things on his to-do list are being taken care of, and you’ve managed to drag him to his bed.

“I really wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around Jamil. You’re telling yourself you really do just want to cuddle, to offer some respite to Jamil. Still, there might also be a part of you worried that if you were to let go, he’d just jump up and get back to working himself to the bone.

Yet, for all his protestations, just the fact that you’ve gotten Jamil to lay down with you speaks volumes of his current exhaustion.

“I can’t just leave my duties, albi. You know this.”

“Making yourself too indispensable, is what you’re doing,” you protest.

Oh, you know it’s not so simple. Not with his background, not with all the expectations and assumptions.

But sometimes you really wish it would be.

Jamil merely scoffs in response to your words.

Still, it is undeniable that he is slowly beginning to relax in your arms, slowly bringing his head closer to yours. His eyes are starting to flutter, too.

“I will still need to help Kalim with his homework, at the very least.”

You wonder who he is trying to convince more, you or himself.

“Amin and Khalil are helping him. They’re basically top of their classes, aren’t they? I’m sure they’ve got it.”

Still, Jamil frowns.

You sigh. He really is not letting go, is he?

“Do you want me to go supervise?” you ask.

And leave you, unsaid yet hanging there right after your words.

“Don’t,” Jamil eventually says, the word barely more than a breath.

It seems he has accepted his fate.

You softly caress Jamil’s hair, listening to his softening breathing.

And when you wake up, wholly unaware of having been lulled to sleep in the first place, it’s to the lightest of touches from Jamil’s fingers.

Tagging @diodellet @twstgo @crystallizsch @jamilvapologist @jamilsimpno69 as per request If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, let me know!

[theloveinc]

There's a lot of validity in the idea that older Bakugo is a traumatized pro-hero with major PTSD... but you know what's kinda fucked up to think about? The fact that Bakugo is also a 22-year-old pro-hero with major PTSD even before that, too.

It's almost easy to imagine that things are actually better when he's older (the therapy finally a routine, the trauma long set and on the path to being healed)... and that it's his whole 20s that are spent as a pool of disaster trying to recover from the war(s).

He looks back and barely even remembers being twenty, much less twenty-five or twenty-seven. Barely remembers how little he slept, not at the hands of trying to balance hero work and getting a degree at the same time, but just out of the pure insomnia that came from trying to move on and every nightmare attached.

Hardly ever showering, never shaving (not that he ever grew much of a beard, but the facial hair was definitely there. There's pictures of him on the news with an awkward, grown out haircut and patches on facial hair that make him look positively... immature), barely even eating more than a few protein bars or an energy jelly drink-a day. It's a blur, and his friends are hardly there to pick him up out of it because they're all going through it, too. Somewhat.

It's definitely weird if you meet him during this period. He's not all there, at least, not all of the time. He doesn't really register your interactions, the friendship you extend to him (a younger, or ever older, version of him would've shown you that deep seeded ferocity in response, tried to bite the hand that fed him, even if it were love... but 20s Bakugo... doesn't seem to notice). Even though only one of his eyes is clouded over, the good one never seems to brighten up.

There's definitely moments when the old him shines through: when he's with Deku, when he's in the midst of battle, when he finds out that Todoroki still does a shitty job at chopping scallions. But it's a long time before he's even close to the same, able to step out from underneath the fog of simply surviving and into the sunshine of recovering.

But I think sticking through it with him is worth it.

(It's a weird moment, a happy moment, the first time you realize that Bakugo has changed. That the pouring rain outside hasn't bothered him since he showed up at your apartment. He forgot his umbrella, he's been quite careless ever since the war—wet and shaggy hair frizzed up, cheeks red from cold—but he doesn't seem to mind, with his bare feet up on your coffee table, his eyes gazing out the window. You hand his tea, and instead of gulping it down in one go, letting it burn in his throat, he winces at the heat.

"Tastes like shit," he says, and you laugh because it always does. Just this time, he noticed.)