#they are both young
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nelkcats · 1 year ago
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Parent's Day
Ghosts didn't have a father's or mother's day as such, but they did have a day where they combined both. A day to celebrate your guardians. Humans, Yetis, Amazons or Gods, it was a quiet day to thank them for your ghost adoption.
Dan and Ellie had spent a few years under the halfa's care but at the end of the day they considered him their guardian (although Dan did it reluctantly), so when they heard about Parent's Day they panicked.
They wanted to show Danny that they really appreciated him but a mug or coupons were not enough. In the end after some brainstorming they decided to give him the closest thing to a mug that was in the Realms: Constantine's complete soul.
John Contantine was a very annoying human, they knew this because they heard Danny complain about his paperwork many times. Apparently their father had 99% of his soul but couldn't do anything until he had 100%, and what better gift than to help him get rid of the paperwork? He hated paperwork! It was perfect!
With some help from Clockwork they traveled to DC's dimension, determined to take the last of the hellblazer's soul. Dan wondered if he should steal a star from the dimension while they were there (Danny liked space didn't he?), as an extra gift.
John Constantine was in the middle of explaining the holes in reality to the Justice League when a shiver ran through his body. He had an instant bad feeling.
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dannnyghost · 25 days ago
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Stan and ford mess around in the computer lab
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imma-dragon53 · 8 months ago
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You’ve heard of “justice league doesn’t know Batman has kids”
Now prepare for “the Team doesn’t know Batman is Robins dad”
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reineydraws · 2 months ago
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saw this quote off a v cute ushiten comic first haha check it out
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i just drew them over a screenshot of hitsugibune from the back 'cuz i was lazy lol soz
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chloesimaginationthings · 4 months ago
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The Vanessas and Mikes if they met sooner in FNAF..
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artseniccatnip · 10 months ago
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is this anything
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chiropteracupola · 6 months ago
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a little victorian boy and his elderly maiden aunts
[i love @pangur-and-grim's weird cats and wanted to draw them beatrix potter style]
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paintedcrows · 1 month ago
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Trying to work out how I see these kids aging! (With some Grunkles for reference)
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bruciemilf · 10 months ago
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I can’t explain, it but Thomas Wayne should be a cigarette mom
God help you if you cross this man at 4 in the morning at a Krispy Donut parking lot cause his cat of a child chased a rat. Voice sounding like a broken car motor, but like. Sexy. “The hell are you lookin’ at?! God damn it— BRUCE. Take that outta your mouth.”
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candycatfalls · 4 months ago
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(guy who's absolutely cooked voice) boy i sure hope this doesnt awaken anything in me!
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ectonurites · 10 months ago
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happy valentines day y'all
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doodleswithangie · 3 months ago
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PINES! PINES! PINES!
[Image Description: Fanart of the Pines family from "Gravity Falls" in Mabel's scrapbook, decorated with stickers and glitter pens. Alt text is provided and copied below the cut. Full spread as one image is also below the cut. End ID]
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Copied Alt Text
Image one: In Mabel's scrapbook, a photo of college aged Dipper and Mabel in their room is captioned, "Back in the Shack!" Dipper wears Wendy's hat, square glasses, a red plaid jacket over a gray Piedmont t-shirt, brown cargo shorts, and hiking sneakers. Mabel wears a round glasses, a handmade crochet square top, embroidered wide leg jeans, and thick-sole loafers.
Image two: Two photos in the Mystery Shack captioned, "Family Tattoos!" The twins show off their respective pine tree and shooting star tattoos, then Ford and Stan join in with their respective six-fingered hand and fez symbol tattoos.
End Copied Alt Text
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demaparbat-hp · 2 months ago
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Want to know what I believe, it's right here
Dig a little deeper and it's crystal clear.
Clear by Twenty One Pilots
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gaywarcriminals · 27 days ago
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The core of Liu Qingge and Shen Jiu’s conflict is that LQG grew up in a world that felt fair and just, that nurtured and rewarded black and white morals, and SJ grew up in a world that punished kindness and scruples, that told him that survival and morals were mutually exclusive. 
To Shen Jiu, morals are a privilege he can't afford if he wants to live, and to Liu Qingge, they're a necessity worth dying for.
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chloesimaginationthings · 6 months ago
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Guilt will follow Michael in every FNAF universe..
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Cold Jealousy
I am back once again with more Silco brain rot. Feeding all of you who need the content as well as myself.
Summary: Who knew jealousy was all it took for to have your first kiss with Silco?
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He hates the coiling in his stomach that arises whenever you laugh at something a patron says. It sickens him, seeing you lean in so close to another man, your lips moving as you say something and then smile, causing the table to burst into laughter. He knows you're simply close friends with them, after all they are your childhood friends, people who grew up with you, so of course you'd act overly familiar with them but he can't stop his chest from tightening, his fingers twitching.
The nib of his pen pierces through the page he was writing on and he scowls angrily at the mess, trying to drown out your voice but it's intoxicating, a melody that snatches his attention away from the numbers in his notebook. Your laughter is like a drug, leaving him wanting more every time he hears it, and the thought that it's someone else eliciting it drives him insane.
"You alright there?" Vander slides him a glass of scotch, worry clear gentle grey eyes.
"I'm fine," Silco spits back, a little harsher than intended. Of course Vander would notice something was off, Vander knew him way too well. He turns back to his notebook, trying to suppress the whispers that begin to cloud his mind and stares at the numbers, willing them into his brain.
"You know they only have eyes for you right? They don't look at anyone the same way they look at you." Vander glances over at the table where you're currently playing a game of cards, and from the looks of it, losing.
"I know," Silco scowls, stabbing the page with his pen. Vander simply huffs and turns to attend to the customer who just pulled up at the counter. Silco rolls his eyes and closes the notebook, he's done for the night. There's no way he can continue concentrating when you laugh like that, when butterflies flutter in his chest and turn to stone as he remembers you're not laughing at something he said or did.
"I'm going to get some air," he grunts, slipping out the back door.
Out of habit, he makes his way to the rooftop, sitting at his usual spot and looks out at the sprawling underground city beneath. Neon lights flash from various stores like stars, illuminating figures as people walk past but the silhouettes disappear just as quickly, fading back into obscurity. It's the same pattern every night, he's memorised some of the figures already, knows the habits of certain individuals, and has noted the important ones. He spots the lady with twin brown hair buns who frequents the brothel opposite, the two enforcers who always sneak into the nearby drug store during their nightly patrol and nearly misses the sound of your footsteps.
"Hey." You take your seat next to him.
"Y/N." He barely spares you a glance before looking back at the city below. The night wind whistles through the air, sending shivers through his body and he curls up, hugging his knees to his chest. Dammit, he forgot his coat. The air here is chillier at this time of the year, being so far away from the hustle and bustle of the city's nightlife, but it brings a sense of peace that he treasures, especially when it's with you. Tonight, it just feels cold, probably from his lack of a coat, but there's a numbness he can't explain.
The clink of glass snaps him out of his thoughts and he glances up to see you produce a bottle of wine as well as two glasses.
"Sorry, I couldn't swipe a bottle of scotch so I grabbed the next best thing before anyone could catch me," you smile at him and pop the bottle open. The red liquid sloshes in the glass as you fill it up and hand it to him, "peace offering?"
He wrinkles his nose but takes the glass anyways, mumbling a thank you before letting the liquid slide down his throat. It doesn't have the same burn as scotch does, but there's still a pool of warmth that sits in his belly, although it does little to alleviate the chill he feels.
You smile and pour a glass for yourself, taking a sip, following the direction of his eyes. Silco swirls the red liquid around in his glass, biting his lip. The silence is awkward, but he won't be the first to break it, his pride won't let him. Fortunately, you shift closer to him and shrug your jacket off, wrapping it around his shoulders.
"Don't catch a cold on me."
He snorts in response, tugging your jacket tighter around himself. It smells nice, smells like you with a hint of his cigar's smoke. He can pick out the scent of wine, the smell of the soap you use to wash the jacket, the remnants of Piltover's smell from your afternoon stint and a small smile makes its way onto his face as he remembers the way you threw yourself at him, clutching a bag of freshly baked bread, laughing as you yelled at him to run for his life. The pool of warmth resting in his belly spreads to the rest of his body, sending tingles up his spine as he buries his face into the jacket's fabric. The fabric is worn but still maintains a certain level of softness, and it feels as nice as it smells.
He watches as you finish your glass and exchange it for the bottle, remembering his own unfinished glass and takes another sip. Scotch was still the best drink, a shame you didn't manage to filch a bottle of it. You down half the bottle in one go, sighing in satisfaction and gesture at his glass.
"You don't have to force yourself to finish it, you know?"
He scowls, and finishes the rest of his wine, all the while staring right at you. "As if I'll let you have any of mine."
You laugh, and he finds that your laughter sounds better when it's because of something he said than when it's because of something someone else said, besides, there's the added bonus of giddiness that fills him. He smiles, for the first time tonight and sets the glass down next to yours. The awkwardness has been broken, much to his relief and he feels as though he can breathe easier.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" You gesture towards the myriad of lights. "Piltover's lights can't compare to this."
"That's because most of their lights are the same colour," he snorts, "but yes…it is beautiful."
You beam, taking another swig from the bottle and set the bottle down, leaning back on your hands. The night breeze ruffles through your hair, playing with its strands and Silco watches as a couple of strands fall between your eyes, causing you to huff and puff at it until it falls off your face. The next gust of wind is stronger and you shiver, shifting closer to him. He shakes his head and throws the left half of your jacket over your shoulders so it covers the both of you.
"Don't you catch a cold on me either."
"Thank you for sharing my jacket." You roll your eyes, nudging his shoulder with your own. He nudges you back, the back and forth going on for a while until the jacket slips off your shoulder and he leans over to pull it back on. Electricity crackles from where his skin brushes against yours and he feels his heart leap into his throat when he looks up at you, realising how close the two of you are.
Sure, the both of you know how the other feels, knows the unspoken truth but continue to dance around each other, fearful of what acknowledging the feeling would bring, but tonight just feels right. He feels your hand intertwine with his and he leans in, throat bobbing as he swallows hard. You lean in as well and your lips meet for the first time.
The feeling is addicting, Silco quickly learns. The way your lips lock with his perfectly, the way you lean in as his fingers run through your hair, the way your free arm wraps around his waist, pulling him closer, all of this makes him wish this moment will never end. Unfortunately, the both of you need to breathe and so he reluctantly parts from you, pressing his forehead against yours. It feels natural, to feel your warmth, to hold you underneath your jacket, and from the way you're looking at him with such adoration in your eyes, you feel the same way.
It doesn't need to be said, nothing needs to be said, the only thing he needs to do is close the gap once more and taste the wine on your lips, savouring the sweetness of it all. This is the one time he will admit that wine tastes good, but he still prefers scotch.
Your hand gently cups his cheek and he finds himself leaning into the touch. Your thumb runs over his skin, brushing along his cheekbone and he sighs, surrendering to your warmth. A small smile graces your lips and he can't help but smile back, although his smile is rather lazy.
"We should head back before Vander has to come and haul us away," you murmur and Silco reluctantly extracts himself from your touch.
"And before he closes the bar up so that we don't have to wash the glasses." He picks said glasses up, nudging the empty bottle towards you. "You are still going to throw the bottle away, I'm not touching that."
"Why? You were so eager to touch my saliva just moments ago," you tease, mirth decorating your features.
"I'm not about to deny you your responsibilities." He ducks out of the way as you try to shove the empty bottle into his arms, quickly making his way back into the bar before you can succeed in making your problem his. He hears your annoyed shouts behind him and laughs, sliding into the bar's counter.
Vander raises an eyebrow as Silco places the glasses in the sink and darts off, then shakes his head as you come barreling in, demanding that Silco help you as payment for the wine he drank. He grabs the both of you by your collars and drops you both at the sink. "I believe washing everything in the sink will suffice as payment for the bottle of wine."
You groan when you see the amount of empty cups in the sink and Silco laughs, turning on the water tap. At least you're trapped in this with him, the washing should go by faster.
As the both of you hunch over the sink, you give him a little nudge with your elbow. "Next time, if you're jealous, just step in. I'll leave with you, I promise."
"Jealous?" He splutters. "I wasn't jealous!"
"Sure you weren't, Mr 'angrily stabs an innocent piece of paper with his pen'. Keep trying."
He huffs, turning his attention back to the glass he's currently wiping dry. "I wasn't jealous."
"Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that. I doubt that changes facts though."
"Nobody said that was a fact."
You lightly punch him in the shoulder with your damp fist and he mock glares at you, smacking your arm with the drying cloth but can't stop the smile that's forming on his face.
"Don't ever doubt yourself," you say softly. "You mean everything to me."
And you mean everything to me too.
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