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ghost-bxrd · 6 months

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Jason opens his mouth to retort when his phone starts ringing.

And not any kind of ringing, no. It’s the fucking Spooky-Scary-Skeletons song.

This is a goddamn nightmare. He should have stayed in bed.

He has exactly two options.

One, not pick up.

Which would be a good option, the best option, if it were anybody else. Because Jason knows the fucker isn’t above trying to ring up the manor itself if he feels slighted.

Two, pick up. And suffer the most awkward birthday congratulations since… well, last year.

Jason glares at each and every curious Bat watching him from the sofa as he excuses himself and heads into the hall, pressing the green button with a long suffering sigh.

“What?”

“It has come to my attention that you have not yet contacted my daughter for your name day well wishes.“

Jason thunks his head against the wall.

“I’m busy.”

“I am aware,” Ra’s says smoothly, and Jason just knows the bastard is stirring his sinfully expensive blend of tea with some golden spoon, “And yet this has not stopped you before.”

“Is there a point to this call?”

“Yes. Do make sure to call my daughter soon. She is being quite insufferable.”

Righteous indignation rises inside Jason like hot coals.

“She isn’t—“

“She has disposed of three potential tutors since this morning,” Ra’s cuts him off, and Jason’s mouth snaps shut, “Yes, I do consider this to be insufferable. And your brother has brought it to my attention that the likely cause of her irritability is your lack of communication.”

“I’m busy.” Jason repeats, but it sounds petulant even to his own ears, “Look, I’ll call her as soon as I get out of here, ok?”

“Make sure that you do. Finding instructors is a difficult enough task without my daughter culling half their numbers before they even stepped across the threshold.”

“Maybe mom wouldn’t have to dispose of them if they were skilled enough to evade her.”

“Oh, some of them were,” Ra’s says drily, “But it proved to be for naught when she decided the your brother’s pets hadn’t had enough sustenance for the day.”

…so, maybe Jason should have called.

— silly little outtake of chpt X of What You’re Longing For (you claim to abhor)

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puppetmasteronastring · 6 months

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i was roped into writing an airbnb au. i've no complaints

@arendellepeach thanks for the idea, i hope the execution pleases you 🙂🔪

Käärijä's home(the deluxe experience?)

#this is just a cracky little oneshot #cackled out loud at the idea so i had to do it #puppetmaster writes #fanfic #my fics #fanfiction #rpf #käärijä #bojan cvjeticanin #käärijä/bojan

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seas-of-silver · 8 months

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Did the doctor say "triplets"?!🤭

‘Did the doctor say "triplets"?!’ Rose burst excitedly as Adrien and Marinette walked through the door of Alya and Nino’s home for their monthly Akuma Class (and friends) game day. ‘Oh, please let it be triplets!’

‘Wha-’ Marinette began.

‘No, I’m sure it’s twins,’ Mylène cut in, just as animatedly as Rose was.

‘Guys, it could be a single child,’ said Marc calmly.

‘Or quadruplets,’ Nathaniel suggested teasingly, earning him a playful elbow from Marc and a squeal of delight from the girls.

‘The real question is whether it’s a boy or a girl,’ interjected Kim.

‘And if there’s more than one, how many of which gender!’ added Ivan, looking over his shoulder. ‘Max?’

Max was sitting at the kitchen counter, paper everywhere, pen scribbling, and tapping away at the calculator. ‘Hang on. I’m almost done my calculations - Markov’s just getting me more information on their genetic history.’

‘How-’ Adrien started.

‘What about you, Alix?’ Luka prompted.

‘Hey, don’t look at me,’ Alix replied, holding her hands up by her head. ‘Even if I do know, I can’t tell you.’

Everyone grumbled at that.

‘Guys, what’s going on?’ Adrien asked, finally getting their friends’ attention.

‘We are speculating on the quantity and gender of yours and Marinette’s unborn child/children,’ Kagami informed them.

‘Right… and why now?’ questioned Marinette.

‘Because you two went to the doctors,’ answered Félix, as if that explained everything.

Marinette frowned and folded her arms. ‘And how did you find out we were at the doctors?’

Their friends went silent, but their eyes flickered, glanced, or even outright stared at Nino, who looked everywhere except at his best friends.

‘Seriously, Nino?’

Nino winced at Marinette’s unimpressed tone.

‘All I said was that you guys would be late because you had an appointment before coming over!’ he defended.

Marinette turned her gaze to Alya, who nodded.

‘It’s true,’ Alya confirmed. ‘They just took it and ran with it.’

‘But how could we not?’ piped up Socqueline. ‘We had our catch-up brunch pushed back to a late lunch because you weren’t feeling well, and when we did meet, you hardly touched the cold meats and cheeses like you normally would!’

‘Couldn’t that just be because she still wasn’t feeling well?’ Juleka muttered.

‘And Adrien has been super protective over you for the last few months,’ Zoe stated.

‘But isn’t that because of the threats she was getting from that competing designer from the competition held earlier this week?’ Sabrina asked curiously.

‘Geez, who’s side are you two on?’ Rose huffed petulantly at Juleka and Sabrina; the two merely shrugging in response.

‘Let’s just calm down, okay? We’ll tell you what happened,’ Adrien soothed, sharing a look with Marinette, and everyone settled down - even Max stopped his calculating and Markov stuck his head out of the study to listen in.

‘We went to the optometrist,’ Marinette began, and she could already see interest drop, ‘because Adrien wanted to make sure he wouldn’t need glasses like Gabriel did-‘

‘Booooooo! Gabriellll!’ came the predictable jeers from their friends. Ever since the truth was revealed about Adrien’s father, all their friends rallied around him in support, offering food, shelter and safe spaces for Adrien to find comfort in, which meant a lot to him.

‘-and we found out that Adrien’s vision is perfectly fine!’

Mutterings of how that was good news filled the room, but it was clearly not the content they were hoping for.

‘So that’s where we were this morning,’ Adrien said to their despondent crowd. ‘Oh, and we also visited Maman and Papa at the bakery to pick up the pastries for our meet-up, and to tell them they’ll be grandparents to a little boy in six months time.’

Marinette watched as their friends’ eyes widened when their words sunk in, and covered her ears and laughed at the chaos and screams of joy that exploded from their friends.

~/~

Ask game: Give me the first sentence and I'll write a short piece for it!

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superbattrash · 2 years

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Superbat: Safe Flight

Alternative title: another bridal carry fic, how original

Hi, this is for that sweet anon, who wanted more angry bridal carry Bruce. Enjoy! <3

“Don’t,” Bruce mutters.

“I didn’t say anything,” Clark says, despite his entire frame shaking with suppressed laughter.

“I can feel you laughing.”

“It’s not my fault you’re so close,” Clark singsongs as he tightens his arms. He’s enjoying his win way too much.

“Then carry me some other way,” Bruce demands. He squirms around in Clark’s arms but there’s no way for him to move around much in this position.

“I thought we concluded this was the most efficient way to carry you,” Clark says and he’s doing that thing with his eyes where you know he’s being earnest and truthful and Bruce wants him to drop him so he can fall to his death.

Bruce harrumphs which is enough to let Clark know he’s won. At least it’s usually enough to have him end the conversation, but not today, of course not. Why make it any easier on Bruce than he absolutely has to? Clark needs to take things just a little further.

“At least I covered you with my cape,” he says helpfully.

Like that’s any comfort.

“Why you do that, I have no idea,” Bruce mutters. It’s not like Clark has to wrap people in his cape. Bruce doesn’t do that whenever he saves someone. There are other ways to make sure people are kept safe. Shields for example or any other type of weapon or gear. Or in this particular case Clark could simply fly backwards.

“It’s to protect you from the wind,” Clark explains like Bruce isn’t already aware of this fact.

“I have my own cape, Kal,” he says, because he has to say something. He knows he’s just being difficult, but he isn’t happy with this situation, not at all. There’s a reason he usually says no to Clark.

“Well, mine is prettier.” Bruce let’s out another grunt and Clark grins like he just won a particularly amazing contest. “Red looks really good on you.”

“Shut up,” Bruce mumbles and crosses his arms tighter over his chest. There’s no need for it – he’s wrapped in Clark’s cape after all – but the movement makes him feel better. He’s physically telling Clark this isn’t alright with him which is the entire point.

He should’ve said no. He should’ve insisted, actually, but he doesn’t have the batwing nearby and he still hasn’t installed any type of wings into his suit. It’s an error he’ll rectify as soon as he’s home; there’s no way he’s letting Clark carry him home like this ever again.

It’s not even like he can blame Clark; Bruce did sort of willingly let him carry him home. Usually, he’d never approve such a humiliating scenario unless extremely necessary to his own survival but today’s different. Today he’s late for an event and even if he could magically find a way to the gala and get his hands on a proper suit, he’s soaking wet. Aquaman better handle the rest of the flooding or Bruce will be so pissed. He nearly drowned! There’s no way he’s going to let Arthur live that down. Stupid unreliable water-powers.

Either way Bruce has accepted a ride from Clark, and they did agree that this was the least humiliating way for them to travel. Now that he’s squished up against Clark’s chest Bruce is starting to second-guess their decision though. Clark’s heart is steady, his chest broad and warm and Bruce is terrifyingly aware of how easy it would be to settle against him and doze off. He blames this week’s lack of sleep for his thoughts.

“It’s still a long way home,” Clark comments like he’s been reading Bruce’s mind. “You can relax, you know?”

“I am relaxed.”

“My neck hurts just looking at you,” he tries. It’s a semi-successful strategy; Bruce is much more inquired to listen if it’s about someone else’s discomfort. Not today though.

“Look away then,” he says and turns his head away. Just because he’s stuck against Clark’s chest doesn’t mean he has to look at his face. His very attractive, very close face. God, if he didn’t have such extreme control over every single physical reaction of his body, he might’ve done something stupid. Like press his cheek against Clark’s shoulder. Or tilt his head up enough that he could reach Clark’s lips with his own and- nope, not going there. Lack of sleep is horrible for the brain, Bruce’s even more so.

“Bruce,” Clark says and there’s a scolding tone to his voice. It’s his ‘I wish you would just listen to me, it’s for your own good’ voice. He uses it more with Bruce than anyone else on the team.

“What.” Bruce still doesn’t look at him. There is a good chance he’ll feel those pesky butterflies in his stomach if he looks into Clark’s eyes right now. He’s not a teenager, this isn’t a silly crush. There’s no reason for butterflies, yet he still hasn’t found a way to get rid of them. In fact, they only seem to increase the more time he spends with Clark. Which is a lot. They are teammates, after all.

“We’re several hundred feet in the air,” Clark points out. He’s stopped trying to catch Bruce’s eyes at least.

“I’m aware,” Bruce says.

“There’s nobody else around,” Clark continues.

“I know.”

“I’m holding you in my arms,” he says, and Bruce wants to roll out of said arms and fall all those hundred feet just so he doesn’t have to be a part of this conversation. It’s almost like Clark is trying to get Bruce to confess. All that’s left is candles and soft music and it’d be as perfect as it gets.

“Yes,” he says instead of voicing any of his panic.

“The least you could do is try to enjoy it,” Clark says.

See that’s the problem right there. It would be way too easy to enjoy this, to get used to it. To accept Clark’s offer once or twice and then suddenly every other time he asks. Soon Bruce will start expecting Clark to fly him home and then he’ll start to offer Clark a cup of coffee before he leaves. Clark will be too polite to refuse, and Bruce will get used to his company. Will crave it and miss it. Miss him.

There is absolutely no reason for Bruce to kickstart the process his feelings are already doing their very best to never let him forget.

“Enjoy being suspended in the air?” In your strong arms, so close to you that I can feel the heat of your body, the strong beat of your heart. “Sure thing, Kal. I’ll get right on that.”

“You don’t have to put up a front, Bruce,” Clark sighs. “I know you’re exhausted. I can feel it in your entire body.”

“Don’t do that,” Bruce says gruffly.

“Do what?”

“Don’t… read me.” It makes it seem like you care about me. “It’s creepy.”

“I’m sorry,” Clark says quietly. “I’m just worried about you.”

“I’m fine.” He really is. Or at least he will be, as soon as he’s back on the ground on his own two feet.

He’s been getting more and more obsessed with these thoughts of Clark recently and he knows it’s only a matter of time before he says or does something stupid. Confessing is out of the question – there’s no way he’ll ever risk losing Clark’s friendship because of some foolish feelings – and it’s not like he can actually decide when he sees Clark. They work together, they’re the founders of the League. They have a responsibility to the team and each other. Not even the minimal possibility of Clark not rejecting him is worth jeopardizing that.

There are a few moments of silence before Bruce realizes that Clark hasn’t said anything back. He doesn’t usually give up this easily, but perhaps they’re both a little off today. He dares a glance towards Clark’s face and ignores the soaring of wings in his stomach. Clark is looking straight ahead, his mouth set in a tight line.

Oh. He’s upset.

Rightfully so if Bruce is really honest with himself. He’s being carried several hundred miles home – superstrength or not, Clark is carrying his full weight and flying slow enough that the wind won’t hurt Bruce at all. He’s wrapped Bruce in his cape, he’s trying to take care of him in his own way.

And Bruce… Bruce is too caught up in his own stupid feelings to make even the smallest of efforts. If he wasn’t well in his thirties, he might’ve just ignored it and pretended not to notice (youth is a strong, although shitty, excuse), but this is Clark. Sweet, caring Clark, who would move literal mountains for Bruce if he asked.

Bruce squirms around some more; he really can’t move around well when he’s burrito’ed into Clark’s cape. He wiggles his shoulders around so much that Clark stops in the middle of the sky.

“Are you uncomfortable?” he asks, because of course he does. He can’t ever not be nice and caring. Which is probably why Bruce likes him so much.

“No,” Bruce says softly and decides to hell with it. He flops his face onto Clark’s shoulder and nuzzles at it. He is reminded of Selina’s cats but tries not to think too much of it. “Sorry for being… like that.” It sounds better than ‘an asshole’ but somehow loses some of its strength. It’s better than nothing though.

“You’re like that a lot these days,” Clark says carefully. He starts flying again. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes,” Bruce says and then because he can’t keep pushing everything away: “Just a lot on my mind.”

“You can talk to me; you know that right?”

“You make that abundantly clear.” It’s supposed to come out sharp and a little sarcastic, but instead it just sounds soft and grateful, which… isn’t too bad, Bruce supposes.

“I’m going to keep reminding you though,” Clark says, and Bruce can tell by the movement of his chin that he’s smiling again. Good.

“I know.”

Flying Air Superman is much faster than any other type of transportation and within the hour Clark sets Bruce down on the manor’s grounds, very aware of not being visible from outside the fence surrounding the entire property. Or, well, he tries to set Bruce down. Getting unwrapped from the cape is a little tricky. While Bruce prides himself on being rather elegant in most cases, not even Batman can get unwrapped from a giant piece of fabric while being put on the ground without stumbling a little. Cue Clark’s very capable hands grabbing his elbow and making sure he doesn’t fall flat on his face.

While Bruce is grateful, he’s also acutely aware of how close Clark is. Somehow, it’s worse (better?) than when Bruce was pressed against his chest. This feels much more insistent than simply being in Clark’s arms. Bruce takes a small step back, proving to both himself and Clark that he can indeed stand on his own two legs, contrary to what his little side-step-dancing just showed. He finally untangles himself from Clark’s cape, pushing the fabric off his shoulders before handing it to Clark.

“Red really does suit you,” Clark says fondly before he clasps it onto his shoulders again. It’s a design he’s gotten from Bruce’s cape – very neat to be able to detach the thing in emergencies. Or if you want to wrap your best friend in it.

“Shut up,” Bruce echoes his earlier response, although his words are much less sharp this time around. It’s clear that Clark notices because his smile grows even if he doesn’t say anything.

Bruce looks towards the door. He’s still in the suit but it’s still early evening. He has a few hours to kill before he has patrol. He could go for a cup of tea in the study.

Don’t invite him in, don’t invite him in, don’t offer him a cup of-

“I was going to have a cup of tea,” Bruce says and doesn’t bite his own tongue off, despite his inherent need to do so. “If you’d like one?”

“Oh, yeah, that-” Clark starts and then promptly stops. He tilts his head just slightly to the side, but Bruce knows that look. Has seen it more times than he can count.

“Emergency?” he asks.

“A fire in Australia,” Clark says. He sounds sorry.

“Go,” Bruce says with a flip of his wrist. Clark looks like he wants to say something but then closes his mouth and nods before taking off. Bruce sighs. Better this way; he’s pretty sure his lack of sleep might’ve turned into a lack of brain-to-mouth filter.

He’s still going to sit down for a cup of tea. First, he has to change though. Clark’s cape might have kept him fairly warm but the evening winds of Gotham are unforgiving and he hurries inside.

Later that evening when he’s nestled in his favorite chair with a steaming cup of tea in his hands Bruce gets a text – and he usually doesn’t text with anyone but his kids these days, so he’s surprised to find it’s from Clark.

Would love a cup of tea next time. Are you free tomorrow? :)

Bruce smiles softly and for once doesn’t curse the butterflies in his stomach. It’ll be okay, it’s just a cup of tea. What could happen from a cup of tea?

#misha writes #superbat #superbat fanfiction #silly little cracky thing #Superman/Batman #superman x batman #Clark Kent/bruce wayne #Clark Kent x bruce wayne

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the-quiet-fire-of-defiance · 10 months

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Te Hōkioi, and Speculation on the Dietary Habits of the Great Eagles

He Hōkioi, i runga, he Hōkioi, i runga, hū.

(The great eagle, from above, made a booming call)

Kei te āputa koe, nā, o te rangi, e noho ana,

(In the open space, there, in the sky, it dwells)

Te hoa moenga, nō whatitiri mātakataka;

(Death's companion, with crashing thunder)

Hei aha, tērā, e tararua mārire, ona hikumaro?

(Why, then, do its tail feathers no longer split the quiet in two?)

Rua maro tonu, ona hakikau;

(Two fathoms wide, its wings;)

E huhū nei, i runga te rangi,

(It called, above in the sky)

Hōkioi, Hōkioi.

(The sound: hōkioi, hōkioi.)

- poem/chant by the great Ngāti Toa chief Te Rauparaha

For @tolkienofcolourweek, I'm spending seven days bringing Māoritanga and mātauranga Māori to the world of Tolkien! Starting off on day 1 with: what did Manwë's Eagles eat?

Such massive animals, especially flying ones, would have required a huge caloric intake. We have little evidence about what potential prey may have existed in Beleriand and Middle Earth. The Hobbit mentions them eating sheep, and it seems likely that they would hunt other large animals, such as deer or bison. But there's nothing in our modern world that compares to or fills an ecological niche like Manwë's Eagles.

This is where I draw on Māori oral history of the largest eagles to ever live.

In English they're called Haast's Eagles, but in Māori there are several names. Probably the most well-known of the Māori names is pouakai/poukai, but my people called them hōkioi.

They were massive, weighing as much as 17.8 kg (about 39 lbs) and with wingspans as large as 3 metres (about 10ft). Their feet and claws were the size of modern day tigers, capable of punching through bone. They hunted prey more than fifteen times their own size.

(Granted, the eagles of Manwë are much larger than even the hōkioi! Still, it's similar enough for me to draw inspiration.)

[Left image: an artist's rendition of a hōkioi perched on a rock. Right image: an artist's rendition of a hōkioi attacking the neck of a giant flightless bird.]

The hōkioi's primary prey was the moa, large flightless birds similar to ostriches or emus. With no large land mammals on the islands, hōkioi were the apex predators.

Then, circa 900 CE, large mammals came to Aotearoa for the first time. They also preyed on moa, reducing the hōkioi's food supply. So perhaps it was natural that the hōkioi began to hunt these mammals as new prey.

Unfortunately, those mammals were us.

[Left image: an artist's rendition of a hōkioi attacking a Māori man who holds a spear. Right image: an artist's rendition of a child running from a hōkioi.]

Our stories of the hōkioi, or pouakai, tell of giant birds that could swoop down from the sky to kill and eat even strong warriors. They were also known to carry off small children.

I'm not saying that the eagles of Manwë ate elves or humans. (I think they were probably given firm instructions not to!) It would make sense for them to prey on orcs and other creatures of Morgoth, though. And there's one other group who we know were hunted like animals in Beleriand, due to... misunderstandings. A group who the Eagles may not have initially recognized as sentient creatures. A group who would have been an ideal size to pick up and carry off as a snack.

I'm just saying, I think there may have been multiple reasons that dwarves chose to live underground.

(Sources for further information about te hōkioi:

The man-killer that fell from the sky

NZ Birds: Haast's Eagle)

#silmarillion #silm meta #the giant eagles #tocweek2023 #māori-fying tolkien #mine #yes this is a little bit cracky #i fully acknowledge that #so please don't be weird in my notes and inbox #(also i SWEAR i haven't forgotten about my wips and i promise i'm working on them!)

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domoz · 1 year

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Or, alternate funny version to the previous: any combination of Uchiha watching Tobirama fight and discussing their observations (gossiping/oogling shamelessly), after peace exists and they SHOULD technically probably help him, but... Tobirama can clearly handle it, no need to get in his way

I once read that a drabble is 200 words or less. I will never beat those allegations.

The ability to share memories with the sharingan really isn't meant to be used this way, but that's never actually stopped anyone.

"I swear to you," Says Madara with a snicker, "He slapped himself in the face with a water whip. Acted like it never happened, but I saw it."

The scene is a bit more endearing than that, when Madara shows it. Tobirama is sparring with his students and one of them can't quite dodge in time. That jutsu can break skin and cut through muscle if it hits right, but rather than hurt one of his students that badly, Tobirama jerks it back. He breaking the whip's momentum but loses a good portion of control and, indeed, slaps himself in the fact with it. He looks rather akin to a wet cat.

Madara and Izuna both break out into another fit of laughter, but Hikaku just shakes his head fondly.

"I've seen him do that on purpose, actually." He says after the laughter has died down a bit. It's not exactly the same -- the memory he calls up had been recorded on accident. It had been in those early days of peace, when seeing Tobirama move water about had made him call up the sharingan on instinct, back when they'd be so concerned that he'd break peace that he wasn't allowed to go off on missions alone.

I'd been rather rote mission -- dealing with bandits who had thought they could take advanced of the disorganization of a new village. It had had been hot, the summer temperatures soaring high and uncomfortable, and they'd both been sweat soaked and sticky by the end of it.

"Excuse me" Tobirama had said the moment he'd cause sight of a source of water. He'd let himself jump in ankle deep instead of standing on top, raised an arm, and proceeded to dump an honestly excessive amount of water over himself. Of course, his mastery over water let him pull water out of his clothes until he was just the right amount of damp without any effort-- Hikaku had been and still is jealous over it -- and even back then, eyes lingered on where wet clothes stuck to well-defined muscle.

Thankfully no one comments. The sharingan's tendency to show the exactly what was seen means they've all shared unintentionally embarrassing moments. Plus, Hikaku knows he's not the only one who's done that exact thing.

"Oh, sensei will do that for us, if we ask!" Chimes in Kagami, thankfully too young and oblivious to understand why his cousins are giving Hikaku the side eye. He launches into a memory of his team begging and pleading to be allowed to train on the water on another hot day. His sensei had crossed his arms, unimpressed, and said he knew that the lot of them had all mastered water walking already…

…But that if the lot of them managed to prove they could do their D-rank mission without complaining, he would think of a way to cool them all off. In Kagami's young memory, the cool mist Tobirama had raised from the pond of the garden they'd been weeding had been the most refreshing thing he'd ever felt.

"…He's too soft on you." Madara says, without any real heat.

"He's something." Izuna responds dryly. "Sometimes I forget, none of you have ever seen what it's like when he really wants to get something done."

Without warning, Izuna calls up the memory of a fight. No… A spar, but a bloodthirsty one. Probably one of the first ones they'd had since they were allowed to again, after peace was called. A mixture of pent up frustration and the fact that they were no longer supposed to kill each other had both of them showing off -- Izuna was prone to do it, regardless, but this was the first time he'd seen Tobirama opt for techniques that were more flashy than practical. A water dragon with mutliple heads split apart into multiple, chasing Izuna through the trees, each one eating one of the multi-fireballs Izuna hurls out to counter them.

Tobirama did not hesitate, leaping out from the steam and twisting his fingers. The droplets of water in the air shimmered and twisted until everything was an indistinct haze.

Not that it stops a sharingan. But something about the scene -- the way the light hit the mist, haloing Tobirama with a sort of rainbow -- or maybe the way he's smirking -- makes Izuna pause.

Oh, he thinks.

Oh, thinks everyone else.

#oh my god . im not going to tag this with everyone #tobirama senju #and Founder Era Uchihas #I think tobirama probably tried to figure out if he could refract light through water enough to blind people #he can't but he can make things *pretty* doesn't help with the sharingan but hey if hes showing off...#I also have a very vague and cracky idea of… the uchiha sharing memories with each other.#as they increasingly gain more memories of Tobirama Not being their enemy during peace tim #(and being downright kind to them re: Kagami and Hikaku specifically)#they all lowkey start to like and maybe even fall or him a little (since the memories being shared already have that connotation)#and tobirama is just clueless about the change in opinon and why it might be happening #………something something single dad hikaku as well. ive been THINKING about this.#urgh like I need more ideas. ANYWAYS.#I Am Not Immune to Italicized Oh Moments #oops! no writing tag #naruto blog for naruto things #izuna got bodyslammed into the ground immediatly after that memory ends btw. which Did Not help realizationwise

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lurafita · 26 days

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Shadow world celebrities

Hear me out! AU where the shadow world is known to the mundanes, and shadowhunters and downworlders are kind of seen as superheroes and therefore, celebrities. And with that comes social media. And Max being a little shit and constantly posting photos or short videos of his siblings and their significant others and friends on his twitter. So the internet regularly goes nuts over pics of Malec cuddling on the couch, or Jace running from a duck, or Izzy trying to put out the pan she set on fire, or Simon helping Max to prank Raphael, and then Simon running away from Raphael, etc

#magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec #shadowhunters tv #malec prompt #mundanes know about the shadow world #max lightwood is a little shit #social media is a part of the fic #downworlders and shadowhunters seen as celebrities #cracky fun

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gophergal · 19 days

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Gopher's Dumb TF2 Headcanons #4

Engineer speaks some German. Specifically, he speaks Texas German, as his mother was a second generation German immigrant.

As soon as Medic learned about this, he was ecstatic and banned English from being spoken in the infirmary when they collaborated on projects.

#gopher rambles #tf2 headcanons #ok this one isnt “dumb” in the way the others are mildly cracky and goofy #but it isnt “proper” in that it doesnt have a serious effect on how I portray the characters #aside from Medic being able to speak his native tongue with someone who isnt spy (who is an asshole. and only speaks german to insult him)#or heavy (who has only picked up a bit from Ludwig). and by “forbidden” i mean he just pretends not to know english like a little asshole

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imbobthetomato · 10 months

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Oh! I guess I’m supposed to make an introduction post? Ha ha, silly me, cutting right to the business...

[clears throat]

Hey there! I’m Bob the Tomato. You might not recognize me without my friend Larry, but I’m the other host of VeggieTales, heh heh!

I’ve got an ask box set up so you can ask me questions, and I can even answer questions in character as character’s I’ve played on VeggieTales...if you’re into that sort of thing...

Anyway, thanks for having me on this neat little website. I’ll be around all day! I...I think.

#veggietales #veggie tales #veggietales rp #veggie tales rp #bob the tomato #new blog #this is petunia mun #so expect this blog to be as active as petunia's #aka nothing for weeks and then a surge of activity for a few days before falling back into nothing #also #if you're following the other vt rp blogs #you know this already but #we're going kinda cracky #a little silly #kinda wild

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kickassclefable · 2 months

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MossuGoji date

sorry for your loss, haters

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#godzilla #mothra #mothzilla #mossugoji #kaiju #story #cute #funny #craky #date #rom com #mossugoji date #a little bit cracky #humanified! kaiju #human godzilla #human mothra #mothraxgodzilla

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rayshippouuchiha · 2 years

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I HAVE A FUCKING IDEA

So, sometimes, Kouda is delivered random things by the flock of birds he hangs out with. It's normally the crows and ravens, bringing him coins and sometimes shiny bits of metal. Sometimes even rolls of yen if he's lucky. (He pointedly does not think about where they pick it up. He doesn't want to know. And if one time there was a speckle of blood on it, no there wasn't.)

But he's used to it. He shares foods and head pats if they want, and it's a mutually beneficial relationship.

Until they start bringing him these bright white packets that shimmer in the sunlight.

Kouda, isn't quite sure what it is. They look like sugar packets, about the same size and shape, but he's never seen shimmery packets like these at the local cafes.

So he gives it to Aizawa-Sensei. The others might not have noticed, but he's seen Aizawa-Sensei dump packets of sugar into his coffee thermos during their last class time of the day. Kouda would have thought he'd drink it black, but he isn't one to judge.

(And he said give, it was more, Kouda was a little embarrassed and waited until the class was empty to stick them in the desk drawer.)

~~~

Aizawa had been having, a week. Eri was settling in nicely, but she still had nightmares and there was the ongoing process of learning her triggers and it was fine but he was also tired. He'd been going through his coffee twice as fast and even if it was the garbage tier from the staff lounge, caffeine was caffeine at the end of the day.

It was why he didn't notice the different sugar packets in his desk. His first cup was always black. Dark as his soul. After he started his second cup, or if his coffee got cold, that's when he added the sugar.

So maybe this was also why it took him 30 minutes to realize he hadn't blinked in the past 5. Or that his hands were trembling so fast that they were steady again.

Or that he had been speed talking to his homeroom about their latest exam results and they were staring at him like he was an imposter.

Fuck.

Aizawa accidentally does cocaine in homeroom one day and then ends up speed running the takedown of the LOV because he's suddenly unstoppable.

#RayRambles #BnHA #MHA #I should totally do this #just a nice cracky little one shot

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transingthoseformers · 4 months

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May i yet again shout from the rooftops how much i love the tfp au

#maccadam #transformers #tfp au #i love all the little cracky quirks #i love the fluff and the angst and the comedy and the tragedy #this is based in me thinking more about tfp au ratchma

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cowboyhorsegirl · 11 months

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Steve Rogers was thawed earlier then 2012 and ran out into Times Square May 14, 1998 between 9 and 10pm…

PLEASEGKGDDKJDKL

Steve’s running out into Times Square, SHIELD is running after Steve into Times Square, they all stop for an hour and watch the Seinfeld finale on the screens before resuming their high-octane chase

#okay my response was cracky but like actually can you imagine??#it would give such an air of modernity to the whole scene #the crowds filled with ppl who don’t dress the same don’t talk the same #huge big blaring screens showing some kind of program that everyone’s watching with completely undivided focus #is it an announcement from the government?? is it an update about the war??#no it seems to be some… tv show…? in color??#everyone’s laughing at the same time. gasping at the same time.#who ARE all these ppl?? obviously English-speaking but why are they so transfixed what’s HAPPENING??#oh god it would all be so overwhelming. like underscoring how out of time & out of the loop Steve truly is #honestly I feel like it would be a little traumatic. like I don’t think he’d ever forget how lonely & scared & confused he was #esp bc it’s his FIRST MEMORY of the future??#ugh I love it great thought exercise anon #anon #signed sealed delivered #Steve rogers #mcu #Seinfeld

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seas-of-silver · 9 months

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Adrien looked up at the dark clouds and down at Marinette's hand in his and thought, "maybe that kiss in the rain I've always dreamed about will happen today."

He wasn't sure when he first started to desire for such a kiss. Perhaps it was the day that Marinette tried to return his umbrella to him, and the umbrella closing in on them, trapping them together in a moment that could've made the perfect scenario for a sneaky kiss as the waterproof fabric hid them from the world, keeping such a sacred moment between just the two of them. Possibly it was because of that time he and Marinette were standing in the rain, the air filled with tension before his father demanded he get in the car and go home to Paris. Or maybe it was when he first gave Marinette that umbrella on that wonderful day they first became friends - he had always felt more for her than "just a friend" (even if he didn't realise it until after that fateful day in the wax museum when their lips brushed due to her prank- wait, was it really a prank? He had to store that thought away for later), but maybe it became a subconscious desire that stemmed from that moment? Or perhaps it was because of his mother's guilty-pleasure go-to movie, The Notebook? Nah, it couldn't be that. But what about-

'Hey,' Marinette's gentle voice jolted him from his musings and he looked at her as they still stood under the shelter of their school entrance, 'a euro for your thoughts?'

'A euro?' Adrien repeated, amusement lacing his tone. 'My thoughts aren't that expensive.'

'I beg to differ,' she teased, smiling up at him, and he felt his breath escape him. 'Your thoughts are worth at least a hundred euros.'

'No, see, that's how much your thoughts are worth,' he countered with a grin, 'whereas mine are worth... yeah, five cents.'

'Liar,' she rebutted lightheartedly, 'but while we both know your thoughts are worth a thousand euros at minimum, we're getting off track - what were you thinking about?'

Right. His thoughts. About kissing. In the rain. He felt his face heat up quicker than a pan on a stovetop.

'I... uh, erm...' Adrien stammered.

She lay a hand on his arm and looked up at him sympathetically. 'If you can't say, that's okay.'

She had a heart of gold and he was going to cry- or propose- or do something stupid because he loved her so much. He had such an understanding girlfriend!

'I was just wondering about kisses in the rain and what it's be like if we kissed in the rain!' Adrien spat it all out so fast that he sure all Marinette heard was a garbled mess of vowels and consonants that didn't hold the slightest resemblance to the French language, yet somehow-

'You want to have a kiss in the rain?' she asked kindly.

All he could do was nod. It wasn't weird, right? To want to have a romantic movie moment where you kiss your love in the rain?

Silently taking his hand, she led him out into the rain. Their eyes never broke contact as they made their way further into the downpour. It was cold and uncomfortable as the chilly rain hit his clothes, hair and skin, but this was for love and for science! Well, maybe not science, but definitely for love and romance!

His hand cradled her cheek, just as her hand came up to his face. Perhaps when they were kissing they'd begin to feel warmer? He leaned forward, as did she, and their lips met. They were wet and tasted a little salty, and he was still cold. Maybe he needed to amp it up a little?

He deepened the kiss and held her closer, really giving the kiss his all. Kissing Marinette was always an absolute delight that made his heart flutter, just like it was doing now, but-

'I'm sorry, Marinette, but it's way too cold and all I can think about is us catching colds,' Adrien admitted as soon as he broke the kiss.

'Oh thank god,' Marinette sighed in relief, 'I thought I was the only one thinking that! Wanna head over to mine and warm up?'

Adrien could think of nothing more wonderful, and in lieu of responding, he took her hand and made a beeline for the Dupain-Cheng bakery. Soon, they were towel-dried, huddled in blankets like burritos and soothing the bone-deep cold with the molten heaven that was Marinette's special hot chocolates as they sat in front the heater.

'Better?' Marinette asked.

Adrien leaned over and kissed her soundly. Now this was how a kiss was meant to be!

'Yeah,' he admitted breathily, eyes fixated on her irresistible lips, already leaning in for another kiss, 'much better.'

~/~

Ask game: Give me the first sentence and I'll write a short piece for it!

#I initially didn't know where I was going with this #but I think this worked out well!#obsessedwithfantasy #ask game #seasofsilver writes #miraculous ladybug #ml #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #lovesquare #adrinette #adrienette #first sentence then scene #fluff #a little bit cracky #they're in love your honor #pre-reveal

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