#writing with rules

[nonebinary-leftbeef]

DEVASTATING the lyric you've been mishearing is better than the real one

[zorangezest]

switcheroo part 3 (starscream edition)

part 2

part 1

this was originally going to be included in part 2 as a short segment, but it was getting too long so they ended being posted separately!

why is this one high quality. why did I put so much effort into this. why have I drawn so much of this blucking au

[ghostbsuter]

The purchase of the mansion was a spontaneous decision on their part.

Sam suggested it, actually.

1 they had the money, 2 they needed much more space than a single apartment could offer, and 3 now she gets to create her own garten of venomous plants!

Tucker holed himself up in his own room, his tech room, because he finally can separate his workspace and his bedroom!

Danny was haunting the mansion in return.

It was during the day that Danny saw the shadow of a child running. He had no idea the mansion was already haunted— why hadn't the ghost said anything before?

Searching for the shadow, it took them all weeks to even get a glimpse of the Ghost.

Only....

Only it wasn't a ghost. It's a whole human child. A human child left behind—

His name is Tim Drake and he has been living here his whole life, how— where were his parents?!

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Shit Fae!Danny Has Said While Living With Waynes

Danny, making a 'got your nose' gesture: Hey Jason, look, I've got your name!

Red Hood, who suddenly can't remember his own name: What the fuck

Bruce, in a tired dad voice: Danny, please, we talked about this, return your brother's name back

Danny: Oh, come on, it's not like he even uses it

Jason, thankfully remembering his name: And I repeat, what the f u c k

Steph, at dinner: I was wondering, what do faeries even eat normally? Like, flowers and stuff?

Danny, his eyes two black voids inside his eyesockets: The souls of the innocent

Steph: So that's a 'no' on the flowers?

Danny, back to normal and shoving a bagel in his mouth: I mean, I can, but would you want to stay on the crumbs-only diet when you are in a 5-star Michelin restaurant?

Tim: It's actually 3-star. Michelin rating system only has three stars, not five.

Dick: Are you saying that people are basically food joints for Fae?

Damian, at Constantine: It would do you well to choose your wording better when speaking to fair folk-

Danny, very much a fair folk, appearing out of thin air in the Cave: Yolo, s'up bitches, guess who's back in town!

Damian: -even when they do not necessarily do so themselves.

Constantine, looking between them: Are you sure you're the human and he is the changeling?

Tim, 46 hours of no sleep: Hey, if you can take a name from someone, does it mean you can take, like, other things that have no real shape or form?

Danny: Names do have shape and form, they even have taste. Yours is like a ping-pong ball made out of really dense cotton candy with banana-caramel flavor.

Tim, losing his touch with reality: Dense banana cotton candy...

Danny: By the way, I know you wanted to ask me if I could take your need to sleep from you, and theoretically, the answer is yes.

Tim, his whisper full of hope: ...will you?..

Danny: No. Either go to sleep or keep suffering. I'm not here to make your life easier.

Danny, after a half-an-hour rant on the Fae customs and traditions: -and Fae never tell the truth, but also never lie. It's a work of art, you know, say what you want but never in a way that makes sense.

Jason: So Fae just like to fuck with people.

Danny, looking him in the eyes, smiling and winking: Sure, humans are very fuckable.

Bruce, trying very hard not to pay attention to this: Can you make an example?

Danny: Sure. I lied.

Bruce: Where?

Danny: :)

Bruce, feeling like he is about to lose his mind: W h e r e ?

Alfred, right after he heard Dick's muffled screaming in the hallway: Young Master Danny, would you mind returning Master Dick his ability to talk in coherent sentences?

Danny, obediently standing up and walking out of the library: ...okay.

Bruce: How come he always listens to you?

Alfred: He knows what I will do if he doesn't.

Danny, returning to the library: He will change all the silverware to iron-ware. As well as the doorknobs and hairbrushes and lightswitches and everything else.

Alfred: Did you fix Master Dick's shoes?

Danny: I did. But I still think that making all of his shoes left ones was funny.

Alfred: Indeed, it was.

| <-prev | next-> |

There's also a fic now.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

my favorite fucking trope is chubby!reader living your life completely oblivious to the fact that the literal man of your dreams is in love with you and you're none the wiser.

like - you just traipse through life like "well he wouldn't like me back so it's wtv" all nonchalant and shit while the poor man is literally falling over himself trying to get it through your head that HEYYY that's not right??? i'm literally in love with you??? i worship the ground you walk on???? i'll do whatever you want????

and bless your heart, you see every single time he tries to hit on you as an act of kindness:

"awww, he got me (insert fav food here) cus i said i was hungry, what a nice guy!"

"he complimented my outfit! he must've liked the color of my shirt!"

"wow, he seems to be zoning out a lot, i hope he's okay!" (he's been staring at your lips for the past five minutes)

and he just... doesn't know what to do to make you see what he sees.

like you're so gorgeous and funny and why wouldn't he like you??

he's convinced that if he were to stand in front of you and tell you he loves you, you'd be like, "I love you too! you're such a good friend!"

(which has happened before and a little part of him died inside)

it literally takes him everything in his power to make you realize his feelings, and you just stand there for a moment, seemingly connecting the dots over the past few months, and all you can come up with is a small, dumb, "oh."

lord give him the strength.

[inkskinned]

we were sitting on the floor and i was cutting out tiny pictures to make a collage for a friend's birthday. you were on your phone and you laughed about something, and i was still in love with you then, so i asked what had you giggling.

"sorry. i was just..." you took a moment and went back to texting. "i was telling someone about how you're afraid of the dark."

i'm afraid of the dark because something bad happened. "oh." i felt a little slinky of shame crawl down my throat.

you glanced up, and maybe it showed on my face, because you rolled your eyes and held the phone to the side casually so i could see the group chat. "what? was it a secret?"

i looked down to the scissors in my hand. "i just..." no, it's not a secret. it just felt like something private, something serious. saying why would you tell someone that just feels like an accusation. it's unfair. i honestly am not even ashamed of it, it's just a fact about my person that i don't usually share.

what a strange experience. is this a human thing or a generational thing? for our grandparents: did they need to worry about how quickly someone can just... share your personal information? again, i didn't even really have a true objection. what could i say? i want any person in my life to feel they can be honest with their friends. it's not like i said don't tell anyone this.

i cut out another letter to complete the rainbow happy birthday, started hunting for the exclamation mark. i heard you sigh dramatically.

"don't make a big deal about this," you said.

this entire conversation was a pattern for us, and this was when we got to my least favorite part of the pattern. i would get my feelings hurt in some oblique not-technically-terrible way, and then it would be making a big deal about something. you'd get frustrated for me for being soft, but i was born soft. you knew i was soft when you pierced me. it's one of the things that made controlling me so easy.

"i'm not," i felt my voice crack. the question came without my wanting. "why are you guys talking about me?" and why are you saying that thing? why not like - i'm telling them how you're generous and kind and pretty.

you let out this low, tragic groan. "oh my god." you tossed the phone away from your body. "there, see? i just won't talk to them if you don't like it."

the rest of the hour went the way it always went, between us: i said i don't actually mind if you talk to your friends but -, you found a way to call my minor expression of discomfort "being dramatic." you got upset that i had been offended. i ended up apologizing, even though i hadn't actually done anything.

afterwards, you picked up the phone again. after texting for a little bit, you snorted. "okay," you said, "but it is kind of funny you're afraid of the dark. i mean, when you think about it."

[noknowshame]

always a fun time when real life people are doomed by their own narratives. like guys you know it doesn’t have to be like this right? this isn’t a stageplay the foreshadowing isn’t real until you make it real

[ashamaxxing]

mom come pick me up they’re defending the divine right of kings on asoiaf twitter again

[chrollohearttags]

I love you nerdy black reader I love you ghetto black reader I love you country girl black reader I love you city girl black reader I love you virgin black reader I love you ho black reader I love you weed smoking black reader I love you straight edge black reader I love you black reader and you’re perfect regardless 🫶🏾

[fisherrprince]

I’ve been possessed. If anyone wants to know where Edgeworth is, he’s been watching kamen yaiba with the detective boys for 4 hours

[geezmarty]

drawing more taash/bellara. help

[dapper-lil-arts]

I'm not the kind of person that's like "Here let me fix the canon" usually but like holy crap gen 5 implied a lot of messed up shit about our hero Twilight Sparkle lmao

[vexwerewolf]

I think the coolest rule off of that old "Rules for Evil Overlords" list is this one:

68. I will spare someone who saved my life sometime in the past. This is only reasonable as it encourages others to do so. However, the offer is good one time only. If they want me to spare them again, they'd better save my life again.

This is genuinely a driver for amazing plot moments - a villain who, despite the fact that their plans would be demonstrably much easier to enact if the hero was dead, feels compelled to spare them.

[citruslullabies]

Jimmy headcannons please please please please please please!! I love him he's so AHHHHH

Okay hon!

Jimmy Mouthwashing headcannons

Romantic

Pre-crash Jimmy:

Throw him off of the ship before it's too late.

Kiss him goodbye or whatever but throw him off

Post-crash Jimmy:

Kill him.

Beat him to death. Put him through the most horrendous thing possible.

Tear his tongue out.

Gauge his eyes out.

You can give him a big ol kiss if you want just kill him

Platonic

Pre-crash Jimmy:

Kill him.

Bring a brick on board just in case

Prevent him from getting bricked up by beating him to death with a brick.

Kill him.

Post-crash Jimmy:

K

I

L

L

H

I

M

[sahisan]

nsfw. fem reader. cuddly chuuya for life <3 not proofread. might write an sfw ver now that im thinking about it.

chuuya who holds you as close as possible during sex.

chuuya loves cuddling during sex more than anything. it always starts with his hands all over you—holding you, hugging you, groping you; legs wrapped around your own or your middle, arms holding you close; lips either on yours, tongue slowly moving inside your mouth or littering your neck, shoulders and literally everywhere he can reach with kisses and lovebites.

and it doesn't even matter where—in bed, on the couch while watching another episode of a show, on the kitchen counter which he sat you up on while making breakfast on a day off (chuuya has self-control, a lot of it, actually, but it's needless to say the omelette was burnt), in his office at home (literally adores it when you cockwarm him while he deals with all these papers—can actually sit there for hours), hell, even in the shower where he always volunteers to hold you up while you wrap your legs around his waist.

chuuya doesn't like losing hold of you ever when you two make love, even if it's faint hand holding while he thrusts in and out of you, or holding your thighs apart while he eats you out or just simply pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

and oh, every time is so, so good.

like now, when he's fucking you from behind, arms wrapped around you like you're his lifebuoy, a hand on your breast and another on your lower abdomen, two fingers circling your clit. and it's a combo, even, of almost everything mentioned above—his face is nuzzled tight into the part between your neck and shoulder, breathing heavy with pants and grunts and whimpers leaving his mouth. he's so, so close, in every sense of the word—there's no space between you at all, not a single millimeter, and he's so close to coming he has to basically hold it in.

but chuuya just has to always make it even better.

it's when he hoists your upper body up from the bed and presses your back to his chest from this position as well that he starts reaching that particular spot inside you and oh, he moans in tandem with you when your moans get louder and you squeeze him tight enough to make him come on the spot. his fingers stutter slightly because of that but don't lose their rhythm on your clit and it's when he starts feeling like he's going to black out from how close he is that he starts mumbling "c'mon, baby, f—fuck, s' close— love you, love you, ah—" frantically while panting into the crook of your neck and fuck, is it the best orgasm he's had in years.

chuuya holds you with literally all his limbs for what feels like eternity after you both come. his hand is off your breast but instead both are now wrapped around your waist, his chest pressed to your back and he's pretty sure both of you are sweaty as hell but he just does not give a single shit. there might be stars in front of his eyes as he closes them, inhaling your scent and exhaling with thr sound of his loud heartbeat drumming in his ears. he doesn't dare pull out just yet—let him have it for a few moments—minutes—longer, please.

chuuya who falls asleep with his limbs intertwined with yours later on after—and every night—breathing evenly into the back of your neck, not daring to let go of your hand.