#yes this is inspired by a fanfiction

[l1ghth0p3]

The world changing event that would be Daniel’s daughter in s3 and she looks like Armand

[steddiehyperfixation]

still into you (steddie ficlet)

Eddie wakes to the mouthwatering smell of bacon and eggs and fresh-made pancakes. He stretches lazily and heads to the kitchen to find Steve at the stove making breakfast, moving expertly between flipping pancakes and scrambling eggs and checking the bacon. A stupid kiss the cook apron is tied at the waist over his bare torso and sinful pajama shorts, and he looks just as delicious as the food he's cooking. The whole scene makes something warm and fluttery bloom bright in Eddie's chest. 

He sits at the counter and sighs dreamily, resting his chin in his hand as he watches him. “God, I have such a crush on you.” 

Steve looks over his shoulder with an amused expression that crinkles the smile lines at the corners of his eyes. “We're literally married.” 

“I know,” Eddie gushes, so in awe of this fact you'd think it was a new development even though it very much isn't. He marvels at his husband of 34 years, admires every inch of Steve's middle-aged body, every place where his time-worn skin is creased with signs of age and a life well lived and well loved. The beauty of him still knocks the wind out of Eddie, a breathless giggle bubbling up his throat. “But that doesn't mean I don't still have a massive fucking crush on you.” 

Steve huffs out a chuckle before turning his attention back to the stove, a quick duck of his head as if to hide a blush. 

Emboldened, Eddie stands and comes up to wrap his arms around him from behind. He nuzzles into Steve's neck, breathes in his salt and pepper hair and smiles into the curve of his shoulder. “I’m serious. Even after all this time, you still give me butterflies,” Eddie says, resting his hands over Steve's stomach and pressing gently to demonstrate his words, “right here, like I’m a teenager again. My aged heart still does very youthful backflips just at the sight of you, and I feel that rush of falling in love all over again, again and again, like it's the very first time.”

Eddie remembers a conversation he'd had with his uncle once, when he was much much younger and Wayne was about the age Eddie is now.  When you get older, you don't feel that type a’ love the same way anymore, Wayne had told him. It ain't the same heart-pounding, all-encompassing, get drunk off of it sort a’ giddy head-rush you get in your teens and twenties. It loses that kind a’ thrill, gets quieter. 

Eddie had found that thoroughly depressing, despite his uncle’s insistences that this was not a bad thing. Don't mean that love and attraction ain't there or that you can't feel it anymore, Wayne reassured him, it's just different is all. He'd shrugged then, his face like leather, worn and fond and bemused by his nephew’s wild youth. Old hearts get tired, Ed, he'd said. You'll get it when you get to be my age. 

Well, Eddie has gotten to be his age and he still doesn't get it. He does feel that quieter love, the kind that comes from shared routines and easy conversation and even easier silences, made up of trust and familiarity, the kind that settles into his bones like it was always meant to be there. But the thrill is still there too, as strong as ever. Steve still makes his heart race and his head spin. Eddie's stomach still flutters at his smile; his touch still sets off fireworks beneath his skin. Even now, Eddie feels a little dizzy just holding him, heartbeat faster. 

“We may get old,” Eddie continues his declaration, “but the way I feel about you never will.” He holds Steve tighter, hooking his chin over his husband's shoulder after pressing a kiss to it. “I will never get over the thrill of you, and my heart will never get tired of it.” 

“You are a dramatic old sap,” Steve says through a suppressed smile, rolling his eyes as he plates the food and turns off the stove, but then he's turning around in Eddie's arms and pulling him into a spirited kiss.

Eddie's blood feels like it's made of champagne, bubbly and fizzy and utterly intoxicated as Steve fills his senses. They kiss with the same clumsy passion they'd had at 21, too eager clashes of teeth and bruising lips. It's messy, inelegant, perfect, broken within seconds when their smiles become uncontainable. They pull apart, pink-cheeked and laughing. 

Steve grins. His eyes shine with all the same giddiness of infatuation and warmth of love as he holds Eddie's face in his hands and tells him, “I have a massive fucking crush on you too.” 

[gojonanami]

thinking about yakuza!gojo and yakuza!geto whose families have both issued proposals to your own yakuza family. and the two aren't very interested in marriage -- until you've gathered them both up and threaten them to convince their families to rescind the proposals. and suddenly, they're very interested in you.

and now you have two yakuza heirs fighting over who gets to marry you.

[fantasyescapes17]

Spinsters do not Need Chaperones (Masterlist)

Seventeen HHU Regency!AU

Chaperones are for beautiful young girls. A plain older woman like you, with neither fortune nor youth to recommend her, is hardly in danger of losing her virtue. You've long resigned yourself to always being the supporting role in someone else’s romance. 

But could it be that love and marriage have not disappeared entirely beyond your reach? This spinster may capture the heart of an eligible bachelor yet, if only she makes the right choices…

Part 1 (common to all members)

Seungcheol Route:

Part 2

Part 3 (coming soon!)

Wonwoo Route:

Part 2 (coming soon!)

Vernon Route

Part 2 (coming soon!)

Mingyu Route

Part 2 (coming soon!)

genre: svt hip hop unit x female! reader (alternate routes for each member), regency!au in the vibe of Bridgerton but we keep things PG here.

If you haven't already, see my other regency!au Seventeen fics here

[ultravioletbrit]

“mess” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 445 words

Regulus is pacing in the courtyard alternating between wringing his hands and nervously running them through his hair.

“Why are you so nervous all of a sudden?” Pandora asks him.

“I… I just… I just really don’t want to mess this up.” Regulus sighs.

“Reg, I’m pretty sure you could walk up to him and punch him in the face, and he would still say ‘yes’ to you.” Evan tells him.

“I’m pretty sure he would enjoy that. Throw away the plan, do that instead.” Barty chimes in unhelpfully and Regulus stops his pacing to glare at him.

“Not funny right now, Bartemius.” Regulus scowls.

“Well, you need to calm the fuck down, Reginald.” Barty fires back.

Regulus takes a step towards Barty, but Pandora intercepts him putting both her hands on his shoulders. She takes a deep breath and gestures for him to do the same, which he does.

“You’ll be fine. You know what you want to say. You already know that he likes you.” Regulus opens his mouth to argue but Pandora holds up her finger. “No. You do. We all know he’s going to say ‘yes’. And honestly, I think James is going to love that you asked him first.”

“Ask me what?” James walks up beside him.

Regulus freezes just staring at James and his mind goes completely blank. He opens and closes his mouth, but he’s forgotten everything he wanted to say. So instead, Regulus… punches James in the face.

James stumbles backwards, a little shocked, and brings his hand up to his cheek. Regulus stares at him completely shocked and panicked, then he takes a few quick steps to stand in front of James again.

“Oh my God! James, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. Are you okay? Fuck! Why did I do that? I am so sorry. Are you alright?” Regulus rambles rapid fire.  

“Err… yeah.” James says rubbing his cheek. “Any particular reason you needed to punch me?”

“I’m so sorry, I just got nervous and panicked. But I didn’t–”

“Nervous about what?” James cuts him off.

“I wanted to invite you to Hogsmeade. But I–”

“Are you going to punch me again?” James asks with an amused smile and Regulus closes his eyes and shakes his head, completely embarrassed. “Then, sure, I’ll go to Hogsmeade with you.” James shrugs.

“What?!” Regulus’ eyes fly open.

“I’d love to go to Hogsmeade with you.” James smiles and chuckles a little at Regulus’ stunned expression. “I’m going to go get some ice first. Do you want to walk with me?” James holds out his hand.

“Err… su-sure?” Regulus says and awkwardly takes James’ hand and walks with him to the hospital wing.       

[gothamite-rambler]

"You slashed his tires?" Dick asked, disappointed at the upcoming answer.

Inspired by Class of 09 mostly cause I imagine Jason would be there for Roy as a friend. I'm aware the characters that most of these lines are connected to are clinically insane, but I wanted to write this because I like their dynamic and it's just my silly headcanon fanfic.

Dick Grayson: Jason, I've been questioning this since you became friends with Roy.

Jason Todd (staring into his coffee): You're jealous he's my friend and not yours.

Dick (sincere): No, you're a good influence on him, I'm not upset about that. I noticed Oliver Queen seems to hate you a lot. Why?

Jason: We... We didn't have the best first meet up when I became friends with Roy.

Dick sat down and waved his hand for Jason to continue.

Dick: I have to hear this.

Jason: Okay... It’s a really funny story, you’re gonna laugh by the end of it.

Dick (sighing): I doubt it, but go on.

---Flashback (inspired by Class of 09)---

Roy and Jason entered Oliver Queen's mansion. Jason looks around, amazed to be in another rich person's house that isn’t his dad’s.

Roy: You think that cop bought our story?

Jason: Yeah, the other guy confirmed it while we ran off... we’re good. I’ll be right back; I have to fix this.

Roy watched as Jason walked over to a tilted painting in Oliver Queen’s house.

Roy: What are you doing?

Jason Todd (examining a framed picture of a flower): I can’t deal with this painting being crooked.

Jason aligned the frame. Roy laughed until he heard footsteps descending the stairs. He realized his father had come home early. Oliver Queen saw Roy and a strange man in his foyer.

Oliver Queen: Where have you been?

Roy Harper: I don’t know, are you a cop now?

Oliver: No note, no text— you could have died!

Roy: With how you handled my drug use, would you have cared?

Oliver: Get over it; you’re fine.

Jason (walking over): Roy, why’s this asshole yelling at you?

Oliver: And who’s this?

Roy: My… new friend.

Jason: We were at the mall, by the way, so you can stop grilling Roy.

Oliver: So I’m supposed to believe you two were at the mall all night?

Roy: What do you mean “all night”? We were there for like, what… two or three hours?

Jason (looking around): Yeah, two and a half. Like the show.

Oliver: It’s 1 in the morning!

Jason: Damn, we hung out with that guy that long?

Oliver: What guy?

Roy (nervous): Nobody.

Oliver: What guy, Roy?

Roy: Nobody!

Oliver: Tell me!

Roy (frustrated): Oh my God.

Oliver: Tell me or your friend has to go home!

Jason (amused): Cool, an ultimatum.

Roy (losing his cool): You really want to know?

Oliver: Yes! What guy was this?

Roy (shouting): The crackhead in front of the mall we sold weed to!

Oliver (shocked): Where did you even get—oh, you’re so stupid!

Roy: Oh, so you hate homeless people too?!

Oliver: My opinions about the homeless community are not the issue here! Dealing drugs in public—dealing drugs in general- it doesn’t matter if you sold them to get rid of them! How can you be so idiotic?!

Jason, irritated at Oliver yelling at his friend, steps in.

Jason: It was actually kind of smart.

Oliver (indignant): Excuse me?

Jason: You better fix your fucking tone with me before I slash your tires!

Oliver (offended): Who are you talking to?!

Jason: I’m talking to you, Green Arrow!

Oliver: How did you—

Roy: Ollie, funny story—

Oliver: Did you sell him crack or heroin? Did you tell him who I was for that smack, Roy?!

Roy, rubbing his arm shamefully, remains silent.

Jason: Who says “smack”? You 1950s gangster! I also love how you didn’t pretend you weren’t him; that’s how stupid you are! We sold weed to a crackhead, because what would a crackhead want with weed? Cops won’t expect that shit! It’s genius!

Oliver (mocking): Genius, really?!

Jason: Yeah! And he’s been sober for a few freaking years! So lay off him! We sold the weed because we had it left over from a mission! A mission you weren’t on! What did you want us to do, keep it? That’s dumb! We did a business deal and got rid of evidence. You should be thankful we don’t have it!

Roy (defiant): Yeah, so... why don’t you shut the fuck up?!

Oliver (smirk): What if I have you arrested? You’ll be able to walk, since your plan is so bulletproof!

Roy: No, wait, don’t do that!

Jason: Go the fuck ahead, asshole. They’ll believe us because we’re young and you’re old and dried up.

Oliver: That’s it, I don’t want you hanging out with him anymore!

Jason (angry): He can hang out with whoever the fuck he wants, bitch! So why don’t you go to your room, pour your little Cognac, watch M.A.S.H, and shut the fuck up or I’ll shove an arrow up your urethra!

Oliver: I can't believe you'd say that!

Oliver busted into tears and runs off.

Jason: God, that felt good. Wish I could say that to my dad.

Roy: Why don’t you?

Jason: He’ll write me out of the will.

Roy: Wow, huh... I think you broke him, so yeah, I get not saying that to Bruce.

Jason: I did break him... Awesome. I’m glad I defended you.

Roy: Honestly, I appreciate that, but we should leave. He’s going to be sobbing for a while.

Jason: And watching M.A.S.H?

Roy: It’s not on tonight.

---End of Flashback---

Jason: Then I stole some stuff from his fridge, slashed his tires, and we’ve had animosity toward each other ever since. Man, those were crazy times. Guess he hasn’t forgotten about it.

Jason sighed contentedly.

Dick (rubbing his forehead, exhausted): You do realize how that wasn’t okay, right?

Jason: Yes, but I helped Roy when he was struggling and got that Oliver prick off his case. I’ve done a lot for Roy, especially in helping him get full custody of his daughter. Oliver should be appreciating what his son has become. I am such a good person, you know that?

Dick (chuckling): I don’t disagree. At least you’re not the only one Oliver dislikes.

Jason: Who else does he hate?

Dick: Bruce. Long story.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

a/n: late night daryl dixon x plus size bimbo!reader headcanon segment because i miss them!! :]]

i'm just thinking about when daryl first met plus size bimbo!reader.

he can't believe his eyes when he sees you come out of the car with rick, pretty and soft and definitely not wearing clothes meant for survival. your hot pink tank top straining against your breasts exposing the leopard print bra you had underneath; your shorts strained against your plush belly.

and was that... your thong?

daryl was never one left speechless often or allowed his emotions to show on his face but what in the actual fuck?

he recalls being frozen in his spot on the bench of the prison he was sat on, the knife he had been sharpening laying lax in his hands as he watched the others begin to crowd around you.

he remembers carol snorting next to him, swatting him on the arm with the back of her hand gently when she approaches him.

"i think you have a little drool right there."

she would tease, pulling a scoff from the man but he couldn't ignore the feeling of his ears and cheeks heating. it hadn't occurred to him that he hasn't stopped looking at you yet.

but when your eyes meet? oh god, for a moment daryl swears that his heart stopped.

he's not proud to admit that as soon as he got the vibe that you were going to greet him, he got up and left, shooting you a defensive glare.

he was never usually one to run away from a challenge, but you?

oh he could already tell that you were going to be a big big problem.

[patolemus]

Here’s a little thing that’s been bugging me for a few weeks.

Summary: Stiles is a demon. This is common knowledge. At least, he was under the impression that this is common knowledge. He should have known better than to trust Derek Hale to figure it out.

————————————

Look, in his defense, Stiles was sure they knew. At least, he was sure Derek knew, and if Derek knew, then the rest of the pack knew. That’s just kind of how it works, when they aren’t hiding threats from each other.

(He’s not pointing fingers. It’s just that Stiles sometimes gets fucking tired when the pack does not tell him shit and then he ends up having to figure it all out by himself so they don’t get themselves killed. It wasn’t funny the first time Scott tried it back in sophomore year. It hasn’t gotten any funnier since.)

(Alright, so he is pointing fingers. Sue him.)

Stiles is a demon. And okay, before anyone gets mad and starts saying shit like ‘no he’s not, he’s just a bit chaotic’, he… well, Stiles will admit to being chaotic as a general rule, but that is more of a character choice. He’s being for real when he says he’s a demon.

His parents couldn’t have children. It’s just how it goes sometimes. But Claudia was a very powerful witch, and she knew a thing or two about making pacts with demons. So when the doctors told her she could not carry any children, she figured the next step was obviously to summon a creature from down below and make a deal with it in exchange for a child.

That’s where Stiles comes in.

Claudia probably wasn’t expecting a demon child to come to her when she did her summoning, but personally? Stiles thinks she lucked out. Stiles is a friendly demon, as far as those go, and his policy regarding humans is more ‘see what makes them tick’ rather than ‘make them burst into flames spontaneously’, so all in all, she could have done a lot worse.

So that’s kind of how he ends up as Stiles Stilinski, son of John and Claudia Stilinski. Claudia and John are the only ones that know Stiles’ true name, though only Claudia can say it right. John tries his best, but they all collectively decide that Mischief is a rather good alternative.

In exchange for being the best son anyone could have, Stiles gets to spend an unspecified amount time on the mortal realm. Claudia doesn’t put any restrictions on him, on the understanding that Stiles can’t go and kill people for kicks. Annoying them is fair game, though.

That’s fine. Stiles has never been particularly interested in needless violence. He’d much rather learn everything there is to know about humans. Such interesting creatures. Truly fascinating.

And that’s how he spends the next twelve years of his life. He makes one singular friend - humans tend to get this instinctual need to get away from demons, but Scott doesn’t have any survival instincts at all, so it works out fine - and spends most of his time enjoying the admittedly mundane life of a human child.

Stiles knows there’s a pack of werewolves living in town, but he never runs into them, and then they die in that terribly suspicious fire and the survivors leave. The town quiets down a lot after that, and Stiles tries not to mourn the loss too badly. The energy they gave off was very pleasant.

Then the werewolves come back to town.

Stiles doesn’t intent to get involved. He doesn’t. He’s a demon, he doesn’t care for mortal affairs no matter how amusing they are. So he doesn’t do anything when he feels the presence of an Alpha in Beacon Hills after seven years. A not his circus not his monkeys kinda situation. But then Scott gets turned into a werewolf, and Stiles doesn’t care for mortal affairs but he does care about Scott, so really, it was inevitable.

There’s also Derek Hale. Derek Hale with his lickable abs and his chiseled scowly face and that angryhurtsadmiserable aura of his. Stiles acuses him of murder, Derek shoves him into walls. How is Stiles supposed to not become completely obsessed?

Anyways.

Stiles isn’t sure how he ended up in a pack of werewolves of all things - demons are lonely creatures, they don’t get packs - but he can probably blame Scott for that. It’s pretty alright, even if he gets dragged into every possible supernatural matchup imaginable. At least no one is busting out the holy water. Not that it would work, that’s a myth. Stiles had that phase as a kid where he went to church every Sunday morning and received the sacrament of Eucharist just for kicks. His dad didn’t find it funny, but Stiles still thinks it’s fucking hilarious. Now he uses the name of Jesus Christ every time he can. It’s blasphemous and Stiles thinks it’s hilarious too.

Back to the point, Stiles never bothered to hide he’s a demon. He doesn’t advertise it, of course, but he doesn’t go out of his way to mask his scent or whatever. He’s powerful enough that he can take on mostly anything that comes find him. So he thought Derek knew, and was just being chill about it and not mentioning it.

Apparently not.

The bitten wolves, he could understand. They still mix up deer and rabbit after years of being bitten when they’re running in the preserve. But Derek’s a born wolf. He was trained since he was a kid, and it’s not like demons are hard to sniff out. Hell clings to Stiles like a second skin.

Well, it turns out Derek is the ultimate failwolf, because after four years, he still had no idea. It takes a run in with another demon - this one does like to set humans on fire, unfortunately, so Stiles has to banish it back to Hell - and even then Stiles has to practically spell it out for him. Stiles is only a bit disappointed in him. Mostly, he’s still a bit confused on how Derek even missed it in the first place.

“Dude, can’t you smell it?” he asks, and they’re alone in the loft because everyone else has gone out to buy celebratory donuts while they try to get the scorch marks off Derek’s wall. It’s not going as well as they hoped.

Instead of an answer, or a growl, which is his primary method of communication, Derek does something unexpected and fucking—blushes.

Huh. Okay.

Wait, no. Not okay. What?

“It’s not considered polite to act on the way people smell, Stiles,” and Derek’s voice is strangled, like it hurts him to get the words out. He’s always been bad at talking but Jesus Christ, this is excessive.

(Heh. Jesus Christ. It will never not be funny.)

“That’s bullshit and you know it. I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve sniffed out other supernatural creatures or people’s intentions. It’s what you do. Other than rip out throats and creep around my window, obviously,” Derek’s scowl makes an appearance - there it is, Stiles was getting worried for a second - looking back at the scorched wall like it’s going to magically clean itself with the power of his rage.

Stiles could probably do something like that. Maybe. His magic is chaotic on a good day, so he can’t really call it reliable. Destructive, definitely. Offensive, if he has to pick between that and defense. Stiles is terrible at that.

He’s really getting off track here.

“That’s different. You’re not a supernatural creature,” Derek says stubbornly and what?

“What?”

“What,” it’s impressive how he always manages to ask questions that don’t sound like questions.

“What do you mean, I’m not a supernatural creature? Are you—“ Stiles looks at his Alpha with narrowed eyes, mouth open mid sentence as it finally downs on him that they’re talking about very different things. “What did you think I meant when I asked you if you smelt it?”

Derek stubbornly refuses to say anything. That’s fine. Stiles is the king of stubborn, he can out-stubborn anyone at any given time.

“Tell me,” he presses. Derek doesn’t say anything. “Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell—“

“Jesus fuck, Stiles, fine!” heh. Stiles knew he’d break. “I was smelling that you’re horny. All the time.”

That— that’s not what Stiles was expecting. Um. Okay. So things got awkward very fucking quickly.

“Oh,” he says, and now he sounds strangled because he thought he’d kept that little tidbit of information hidden quite nicely. It turns out Derek was just being polite about it.

God, does it mean the betas can smell it too? Oh, no, no no no no.

(Heh. God. Stiles is so funny.)

(He really has to stop unfocusing like this.)

Stiles is officially mortified. Turns out even demons get prudish after spending so much time in the mortal realm. Who knew? It’s okay, Stiles will just find the nearest bridge to throw himself off from. If he has any luck he’ll die instantly and won’t get back to Hell so he doesn’t have to live with this knowledge forever.

“It’s okay. I know it’s not personal or anything,” Derek’s still not looking at him. He’s grabbed back his rag and is valiantly rubbing away at the wall. Stiles doesn’t have the heart to tell him that if the mark hasn’t come out already, it probably never will. He’d know, he’s burned plenty of walls before.

By accident, if his dad ever asks.

“That’s fine and all, only it’s very personal,” and Stiles is just making a bigger hole to bury himself in, but his mouth is faster than his brain. It’s an ongoing issue. “You don’t think I’m horny all the fucking time, right? I mean, demons do have that hyper hormonal stage at my age but assuming it’s all the time is a bit excessive. I’m not a succubus. This is completely a you thing.”

Derek’s face does that thing where it pinches in between his eyebrows and his eyes narrow a bit, lips pressed together tightly. It’s his Stiles Just Said Something Deeply Upsetting face. He uses it a lot.

Alright, time to backtrack.

“It’s really okay that you don’t feel the same. Really, I get it. I wouldn’t feel the same about me either. So let’s just ignore I ever said anything, and we can go back to trying to clean this up even if we both know it’s not going to come out,” he offers Derek his most winning smile. Derek’s face just gets even more pinched.

Stiles’ senses are pretty dulled here on the mortal realm, but he doesn’t need them to know his Alpha is probably very pissed. At him, specifically.

So it’s Tuesday, then.

Stiles takes a step back, just as a precaution. He doesn’t think Derek will throw him against a wall - he stopped doing that a couple of years ago. Stiles refuses to acknowledge he kinda misses it - but you can never be too cautious. And Stiles did kind of just confess his undying horniness for him.

Imagine if he’d also told the guy he’s utterly and helplessly in love with him. That would have gone fantastically. Not.

“You’re a demon?” Derek’s voice comes out more high pitch than Stiles has ever heard it. He’s surprised. Why is he surprised? This is what they were talking about, before Stiles stuck a foot in his mouth. “Since when?”

“Since always? Seriously dude, can’t you smell it?”

It’s like they’re back in square one.

So. Turns out Derek truly had no idea Stiles is a demon. No wonder he’d looked like Stiles had grown a second head when he banished that fiend back to Hell.

On the good side, Derek apparently also returns his feelings, after they go in circles a few more times and Stiles gets across that he’s not just horny, he’s in love. A happy ending, in Stiles’ opinion.

(“How did you end up as the son of the Sheriff anyway? Is he a demon, too?”

“Hmn? Oh, no. My mom just did this summoning ritual for a Prince of Hell to get them a child, and I showed up. It was kind of a two for one deal,” he waves his hand dismissively.

“You’re a what?”

Oh, boy. Stiles knew he was forgetting something.)

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

~{ You all know what time it is! }~

•The Circus•

Jazz and Danny have always taken care of each other when their parents eventually forgot about them

Like when Jazz had to learn how to cook and fight off reanimated food to feed Danny when she was 6 because their parents got a new idea and had to work on it right that second

Or when Danny had to find a way to copy Maddies hand writing so when Jazz got sick or had class trip and she was to busy with other things so could go and have fun like someone her age so have

So you can tell they always took care of the other so when Maddie and Jack tried to lock Danny in the lab and have their way with the “Ghost scum” Jazz stood by his side until the end

And now that they both are full ghost that’s not going to change a bit they took care of each other in life

They going to take care of the other in death

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

When The Circus held out their hand for Jazz and Danny they were a bit surprised and untrusting in the beginning in fact Jazz would never leave Danny’s side or the other way around

But they have been with The Circus for some time now ( It’s hard to tell how long you’ve been in here Jazz and Danny find out pretty quickly ) and the people of The Circus has gained some of their trust but never quite all of it ( only the other has their full trust )

but the one they trust the most has to be the ringmasters or the leader of The Circus they keep everyone safe and protected so Jazz and Danny can respect that in them

And they made sure Jazz and Danny were safe as well so they respected the ringmaster a lot but not to the point where they would take their side over the other but they still respected them

Back on track, Jazz has been given the role as a sharp shooter and Danny as a Aerial act and of course jazz and Danny are always in acts together (The ringmaster has tried to get them to be separated acts due to their different roles and he got punched by jazz after he got to close to Danny for her liking, she gains everyones respect that day)

And if you need danny you often have to get past jazz first due to her being overprotective of Danny

How Danny and Jazz fight, Danny will use the silk he uses often in his and Jazz’s acts grab the person and fly around as fling the person all around and disorient them as Jazz fires her gun at them until the person is unable to fight or Danny and Jazz just get broad they will from Danny’s silks or whatever he’s using for flying around let them hit the ground or Danny will stop flying and Jazz gos at it, they treat it like target practice (They got everyone respect and fear after they did that the first time)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

~{ Now onto the DCU part! }~

A emergency meeting is called for the JL about a new potential enemy or a rescue mission

So when one of the heroes [Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, The Flash, Green arrow, Green lantern, Martian Manhunter, Aqua Man] in the meeting ask what it is are told about

A large big top that has large mechanical legs with the possibility of more due to the build of this structure and it seems to have been avoiding main areas where one of the main members of the JL are like its hiding

inhabitants of this is known to be unpredictable in their actions and how they react to people and objects out side of the structure and how they respond to questions about the big top or anything related to The Circus they will act as though the big top and whole Circus itself can hear them and become quiet and run off (They don’t really talk to people out side of acts so they just run back to where the others are or back to where their act is taking place)

And very little is known about them but this was brought to their attention due to the disappearances of people in the wake of The Circus (The ghost walk in and move on to the Ghost zone or find peace) and this is a problem and with the concerning words of some of the people who are in The Circus it is leaning towards the rescue mission

And they need to find out what is happening and need a team to go under cover and young justice volunteers to go under cover

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

~{ Now onto Danny and Jazz’s outfits! }~

For Danny I’m thinking

This for the outfit ~{ Or not this is really the best I could find that I at least liked enough }~

And for Jazz I’m thinking something like this

Or this ~{ I’m not picky about which }~

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

~{ And that’s it for this! I hope you things like it and life’s to short punch a politician! Byeeeee }~

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

Jujutsu Packers and Movers:

Imagine, blonde haired, THICC, strong man, Nanami Kento.

Imagine his muscles rippling under his skin, tight shirt almost bursting at the seams as he lifts your couch with the help of his dark haired friend.

Imagine him positioning all your furniture, exactly the way you ask. After all, how can he deny a request from such a pretty lady, all alone in this new city, with no one else to help her.

Imagine him wiping the sweat off his brow as he makes sure you are completely satisfied with how it looks in your new apartment.

Imagine him turning and asking you (standing in the doorframe watching them work – one more than the other – holding two glasses of ice cold lemonade) "Can I help you with anything else miss?" Voice rumbling like quiet thunder shooting straight down to your core.

Imagine him choking on the welcome drink as you smile and reply, "Yeah, can I have your number?", pink blush dusting your cheekies

[katyakurae]

Come! Stay with us at the Hazbin Tavern! A DnD AU

Random facts under cut

Race: High Elf

Class: Warlock

Alignement: Chaotic Neutral (but more chaotic than neutral)

Goal: To have some fun, mess with Lucifer and... get rid of his patron

Smiles as in canon, but not all the times. When he is alone or (some blessed times) with Lucifer, he lets his guard down and his expression becomes more subtle, neutral even.

Born with magic. Decided it wasn't enough power and made a deal with some eldricht deity. Turns out it was a bad idea.

Those tendrils belongs to his patron. It taints his magic and feels awful. Dirty. Alastor hates it, but uses his magic all the time anyway.

The mark on his face also belongs to his patron, a constant reminder that he's been touched by something no one can understand.

Raised in a Selûnite clan, his family wanted him to be a cleric, maybe even the next Choosen of Selûne, but he went sideways.

(So yeah, Lucifer and him in this AU are kinda a sun/moon ship)

Made some friends in a Bhaalist cult and get an aquired taste for human flesh.

Has all kind of weird suitors. Once one of them offered him his own felsh, back in his Bhaalist cult days. Alastor ate him.

He also met Rosie back there.

After travelling, learning more magic and start hating his patron and their soul-binding contract, he went to the Underdark, where he had hear that an amazing Aasimar sorceress lived. That was Charlie. Amazingly powerful, yes, but with not enough control to help him.

So Alastor made his mind and decided to stay in the Hazbin Tavern, teach the girl to control her powers and guide her to his benefict.

Soon after that, Lucifer entered the picture. His was hate at first sight, but somehow they ended getting reaaaally along between arguments. Now, they teach Charlie together, but Alastor is still plotting behind their backs.

(Yes, his ring with a red detail belongs to Lucifer. No, no one dares to talk about it)

Does not hesitate to kill or pick a fight. Has also murder many travellers who enter in the Hazbin Tavern with dark or hidden agendas.

His favourite spell is Eldricht Blast.

Quite creative with magic. Specially in combat.

One time, Lucifer created a weird device that can send sound through the air, called it "radio" and gifted it to Alastor. The elf is fascinated by this new toy of his.

Previous character: Lucifer~

Next character: Husk

[fizzingrubies]

WIP I've been working on for a while but don't think I'm ever going to quite finish:

GI(G)GS phasmo, but none of them are quite as normal as they seem (and they all think they're the only weird guy).

Impulse and Skizz are a demon/angel duo who help each other out when one of them can't human correctly (both of them like humanity a little too much to do their real jobs correctly).

Grian watches. He also Watches. He doesn't have control issues, really.

Scar is a Vex/Fae who could've gone into law like Cub, but instead uses his talent for wiggling out of contracts preventing the ghouls and demons from following them home.

Gem is a time traveller and the real reason none of them have died yet (Yes she's absolutely fine, witnessing her friends die again and again has not impacted her mental stability at all what are you talking about SHUT UP)

[almostfoxglove]

pedro pascal cinematic universe aus 5/?

the one where dave york sets sail for revenge. (insp)

[definedareasofuncertainty]

WIP Wednesday: dragon au

The one in which Klaus and Caroline hate each other, but their dragons are mated, so they are now forever tied to each other ✨

-

“Well, this isn’t ideal,” she said, because someone had to say something.

And it didn’t look as though it was going to be him, with the way he was sitting there, his eyes closed. Even after he was the one to pull her into this empty classroom, claiming that they needed to talk.

Klaus opened his icy blue eyes then, fixing them on her as she leaned against the wall, arms crossed in front of her body. “Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed.”

She huffed. “You know, I knew you were an asshole, but I wasn’t aware you were so fucking dramatic. Nothing has to change. You keep to yourself, I keep to myself. Caerulus and Astéria deal with their marriage bond or whatever on their own. There, done.”

He gave her a saccharine smile. “Right. And when I graduate next year and you’re still a student, and suddenly the two mated dragons don’t live together anymore, is that still done? Or even worse: when you graduate as well — if you get that far — and the royal family is forced to foster a Forbes under our roof, is that resolved?”

Caroline pushed from the wall, a growl escaping her throat as she reached for one of her daggers. The way he spoke of her family – as if they were less than. As if he had any right to–

Klaus rose from his seat, and she felt her blood begin to boil in anticipation. It wouldn’t be the first time they had gotten violent.

“Nothing has to change?” He challenged. “This has to change.” He gestured between them. “Running you through with my sword would be a lovely way to solve all of my problems, sweetheart, but I can’t. Hurting you would hurt Caerulus and, in turn, that would hurt Astéria.”

“Which would in turn hurt you,” she concluded.

“Yes,” he said. “So let go of that fucking dagger, will you? This is not resolved, Caroline. Nothing about this is simple. You may have bonded the most powerful dragon in your year, but that will only make you a bigger target. The ones who envy you will try to prove that you can be defeated. And the ones who hate your family…” Something dangerous glowed in his eyes. “They will kill you to make sure we do not have another deserter leading a dragon away from our realm.”

She gripped her dagger again. “My father was not–”

“And now I,” he continued as though she hadn’t spoken, “will have to make sure you don’t get killed. You are still weaker and have less training than the others.”

“I defeated you in combat, remember?”

Oh, how glorious it had been to dig her dagger deep in between his ribs. It had taken them dragon magic and six days to heal the precious prince.

Klaus bared his teeth at her. “Only because you poisoned me first.”

She shrugged. Playing fair was not a requirement in this school. And she would not lose to him again. Humiliation still painted her cheeks red at the memory of his dagger in her abdomen, and her dislocated shoulder throbbing in pain as she passed out on her very first challenge this year.

Caroline sighed. “Aren’t they supposed to be wise? How the fuck did they think trapping us together was a good idea?”

He scoffed. “I asked Astéria that.”

“Yeah, how did that go?”

“Fruitless. She told me not to question a dragon’s choice.”

She fought the urge to roll her eyes, if only because she had a feeling Caerulus would know and would not appreciate it.

“Well, then. What do you have in mind?” she asked, the words passing through her teeth as though it pained her to say them. Because it definitely did. She had never, ever wanted to ask Klaus Miakelson’s opinion on anything.

He looked at her as if he was assessing her; and whatever he found, he seemed to think she was coming up short. Gods, she wanted to fucking punch him.

“Every morning, an hour before your chores, you will meet with me.”

Her glare could probably burn through iron, but he seemed unfazed. “Why?”

“So that I can train you.”

[letterstomichelangelo]

just imagine its the end of season 5 episode 3, byler have had another veiled heart to heart about friendship and whatnot. we see mike walk into his room, a song starts up in the background, he kneels beside his bed and pulls out a dusty box. tentatively he takes it, sitting on his bed and after a few beats he opens it up and takes out its contents: a stack of paper. slowly the camera pans to the letters, all starting with "dear will," and ending with "love mike" but the contents are made up of scribbled words, sentences rewritten time and time over. as he shuffles through them, he starts crying faintly and through choked sobs, he whispers, "im sorry will, im so sorry"

you'll have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

it fades to black and the credits roll

[lalchimiedecupid]

For angsty lilia×agatha×rio inspiration? A slight alteration where Lilia didn't die at the trial, sooo consider this.

Rio has been there as long as there's been life. She was the one to see the first grass off with the first frost. She was there with the first ever person to die to taste the sweetness of poisonous berries she kissed at summer. She has been there through wars, survival, acts of sacrifice and selfless protection. Witches are short, bright-flamed sparks across the dark canvass of the night sky to her, a flame that burns so quickly she could barely notice.

Lilia has been there for over four centuries. She had been there during the most trying times, in the darkest of nights brightened by prayers and the pyres alike. She had been there before forests went thinner, before life became an endless loss of sisters and faith, before songs became blame and chants became curses. She had been there with her heart, dragging it forward in fear, and she saw the world change in ways so deep she could never find a fitting comparison, except: a candle being snuffed out in the lonely darkness. Agatha is a child next to her experience. Death? Her one true companion.

And Agatha has been there a little less. A shorter time, an even shorter experience. Blood so young and smoldering with emotions, it shines crimson. It shines warmth. Agatha, and her desires, her selfishness, her snark and laughter in the face of the most horrible. She is an old witch, yet still the youngest among all three. She is so, full, of life. They fall beautifully together. The darkness, the light, the flames of the time passage.

But – Agatha is the one to die first. Between Death herself and the witch who's had lifetime enough to fill the most demanding hourglass, Agatha's flame dies first, and they have to continue existing without its maddening, blinding light. In darkness. As they were before her.

sorry it got dark and kinda death-y but you asked and I couldn't stop word-vomiting haha

Sins of the Past Buried at the Old Creek:

I: The Fall

TW: Not specified yet, but the story will have more and more in each chapter as we discover the lives of Lilia, Agatha and Rio.

Lilia doesn't know how it happened. Why it happened. All she remembers was waking up in Agatha's embrace, cradled to her chest. The same woman who had walked out on her, walked out on Rio, walked out on everything they had built and vanished. The same woman she agreed to join on this walk down "The Witches Road". The same woman who has subconsciously comforted her after her hallucination. The same woman who had shared the story of the only scar she openly talks about while she hides the rest. The same woman who she watched yearn for Death but also run away from her. The same woman she sacrificed herself for. The same woman she now lays in her arms.

"Agatha?" She asked quietly as the brunette kept her close to her chest, where she once used to lay against, at night, or in the early hours of the morning.

"Shhh, you're okay" The younger witch said, voice hoarse and throat tight. An indication that, she either was screaming (which isn't a rare occurrence for her) or crying. Odd I know. Agatha kept to herself. Agatha refused to show signs of weakness. Agatha— Agatha loved dearly, and she hated it. She preferred to lust over the other, to let herself be driven by lust and desire, no matter how harsh and humiliating the punishment is in the second circle of hell.

After all, she was no stranger to punishment and heartbreak. In fact, she has grown to become it's own personification.

"I need a favor" Death whispered to the Sicilian witch

"A favor? From me?" A scoff. "Why? So you can wreck havoc all over again? So you may trick me into believing your claws won't dig deep into the corpses of those I try to nurse back to health?"

"Look—"

"Don't" Lilia hissed. "What do you want this time? Who is it?"

"Her name is Agatha, she's — she's with child. The pregnancy is dangerous and I— The child will be a stillborn, but I've offered her time"

A laugh. A cold bitter laugh.

"Time? You've offered her time? How come dear Mistress of Death?"

"Lilia—"

"Take a deep breath the baby lives!" The witch screamed, starling backwards with a hand to her womb, eyes wide and dissociated before slowly, they locked onto Death. "She's..That child is yours" Lilia breathed out.

"He is" Death answered ever softly. "And I— She needs someone, no one's as caring and gentle as you are"

"You want me? Your mistress to care for your child with the woman that doesn't you and I's history?"

"Please Melilla" Death doesn't beg, but sometimes in the late hours of the night, she finds herself on her knees begging for more than one thing at a time..

"I was falling" The older witch whispered as a hand so used to cause harm caressed her cheek tenderly.

"You no longer are" The words were murmured against her forehead, a small sniffle escaping Agatha.

"Soo...you two are—?" Jen asked confused with a tilt of her head.

"Don't" Agatha hissed, keeping Lilia close to her. "No no— don't sit up mea columba—" She said, keeping a tight hold onto Lilia, putting a stop to her attempt at sitting up.

"Agatha—" Lilia mumbled ever so quietly, the rasp in her voice causing waters to bubble up in the brunette's eyes.

That's when Billy knew that he needed to get Jen out of here. That and because Rio was standing in the corner with her dagger in hand, ready to chase them out.

"I'm not leaving" Jen insisted through gritted teeth as she tried to take a step forward, almost hesitantly but with pure determination. Because when Lilia looks at you with her sad eyes you can do nothing but agree to whatever comes out of her mouth.

Oh Lilia, the woman that you are.

"Jen we have to go—" Billy could only insist, grabbing the dark skinned woman by the arm and attempting to drag her away.

As soon as the doors closed in, that's what the realization settled for Agatha. Lilia was sacrificing herself. Lilia was finally giving into her suicidal thoughts. Lilia was giving up on her life for the greater good. No. No she can't let that happen.

"Billy" She could only gasp out as she grabbed the boy's face. "Listen to me" She insisted. "You want Lilia out" It sounded urgent, desperate almost.

"What —" The boy exclaimed.

"You want her out Billy! You want her out of there, you need Lilia OUT!" She said once again, on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Agatha I—"

"Focus!" She yelled once again, her hands on either sides of his face, pulling it closer to her, attempting to channel her energy.

"Focus on the Lilia you saw inside. Focus on her footsteps" The way she was holding onto his head made him both scared and slightly interested in her desperation to bring Lilia, a member of their coven, who she mocked and supposedly could care less and less about.

But none the less, Billy did as he was told, but the flashes were intense, the screeches and the sounds of the wall slowly closing on the ground. But there she was in her pink dress, falling.

"She's falling!" He exclaimed.

"Then catch her! Get her back to me!" Agatha shouted, her thumbnail digging into his cheek.

"Ow—Ow— I can't! I can't pull her back!" The teen said, face scrunched up in pain.

"You CAN! You CAN and you WILL!" She screamed into his face, causing Jen's attention to face them. "You pull her OUT RIGHT THIS INSTANCE!" She was desperate. And that was maybe even an understatement. A deep understatement.

"Pull her in, pull her to me, in my arms. Focus on the atoms in the air, surrounding Lilia, before she crashes, before she dies. Before I—I lose her" Her eyes wide and wet, full of tears she allowed herself to shed.

Sensing her despair, he focused onto the falling figure, her soul, her body and her mind, and it might've been too late now as a the tip of the sword entered her back before darkness engulfed his mind.

"LILIA!" His mentor, his hyperfixation for years, his— his whatever she was screamed as she caught onto Lilia and pulled her close to her arms.

"I'm not leaving her with them! With Death and her psychotic ex girlfriend that's also a witch killer!" The potion's witch said fiercely.

"Well then stick around and find out what happens when you stay with Death and her ex girlfriends" The line was delivered as a threatening whisper, with the dagger in hand, her skeletal body on full display. With a tilt of her head and a dangerous look in her eyes.

"Rio, don't" Came Lilia's quiet whisper.

And who knows what it is that Lilia has for both Death and the infamous Agatha Harkness to do whatever she says. But they do. They always do. And her words always work on them. When it's tenderly delivered, when it's soft and gentle, when it's words spat out of rage and pain, out of pain and sufferance.

Lilia was a soothing balm to their wounds.

You might ask yourself what wounds does Death herself have? Well, a skeleton is cold without a layer of muscles and skin. It's weak and breakable. How can it survive for so long as nothing but 'une macabre vivante'? Lilia was more than a Persephone, no, Persephone was Agatha. Once innocent now rotten to the core. Maybe she wasn't Persephone either, because God knows no innocence resides in her soul any longer. But Agatha was Agatha. Agatha was chaos and heartbreak. Was a self destructive fool but also a power hungry beast. Agatha was unpredictable. Agatha was Grief. Sorrow. Heartbreak. Agatha was all the flaws one could possess and put into one.

Agatha was good. Until she wasn't.

Rio was Rio. Rio was Death. Rio was Balance. Rio was good and was bad. Rio was nature and animals. Rio was instincts and tendencies. Rio was a mix of hedonistic dionysian and and absurd cynical. Rio is Death. The gentle breeze that kisses your blue lips and the harsh impalement that snatches you from life's warm embrace. That's who Rio truly is. The cycle of things.

And Lilia, sweet, gentle, tender, beautiful Lilia. She was life. She was light. The sun and the pretty skies. She was a Sunflower in a field of rotten suns. A lightbringer in the darkest of nights. A caress of silk and cotton. A breath of fresh air and a the smell of spring. The smell of damp mud on rainy days. The smell of the beach on a hot summer night in mid july. She was and is what brought true balance to Death and Heartbreak. She is what soothes the grief and the pain. She is what brings life to loss. She is and will always be Life.

❛°•☽☼☾•°❜

tag list:

@yourbasicqueerie n @walkethisway there you go cousin🙏🏻🙏🏻 @thegoddamnfeels , @jubshead