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#i would be so FERAL
allskywalkerswhine · 7 months
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in fics where luke gets plopped into the prequels i want every jedi within ten metres of him to think hes the weirdest jedi theyve ever seen. he has negative lightsaber form. he doesnt know what a kata is. he handstands when he meditates. his solution to sith is to try and have a chat. hes a political radical who keeps suggesting revolution. you ask him what the jedi code is and he says "kindness and compassion and helping those in need :) ". you ask how he used the force like that and he says some shit about how you are a luminous being limited only by your mind. the councils authority is just a suggestion. he is somehow the new favourite of both qui gon and yoda
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lescarnetsdehaku · 3 months
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Romeo & Juliet, but they're friends and try to escape Verone, there is a 1940 twist, also Juliet has a gun, Idk I didn't read the books
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puppetmaster13u · 5 months
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Who wants a prompt entirely in memes.
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morhido · 10 months
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what is wrong with all of them
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cod-fishing · 7 months
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New allies or new enemies (fools, all of them) assume when interacting with the 141 that Ghost is the unit’s attack dog. And those that get close enough to start reading into their team dynamic often assume that one Soap MacTavish must hold the leash, despite their difference in rank. After all, the Sergeant is the only one who seems to ever get close to the hulking Ghost, more monster than man. They assume this because they think someone has to. After all, a beast can’t keep himself on the lead.
But what they could never anticipate with their little pea brains is this - Ghost is in complete control. Sure, he postures, and he wears his mask, meant to ward off anyone who would even think of getting close. But the mask is as much of a target as it is a tool for his isolation. For every 10 men who steer clear, there’s one who picks a fight just cause he’s the biggest, scariest guy they’ve ever seen. And so he honestly has learned to keep his cool. To turn the other cheek. To know when it’s important to fight, and when it’s better to just let posturing idiots be posturing idiots.
Soap, however.
He’s young, and he’s strong, and he has a painfully endearing golden-retriever sense of justice. He has no idea how to back down when the fight isn't worth it, to him it's always worth it.
And the only one who he'll listen to, the only person on the planet who can call off his bite is Ghost. When Soap bristles at some rando bothering a girl in a bar, ready to start swinging, it's Ghost that steps in with a cool word instead, stopping the fight before it starts. It’s Ghost who puts a hand on Soap’s back when he can feel him tense, teeth barred, it’s Ghost who calls Soap back to the present with a quiet hey, not now. And miraculously, Soap listens.
He holds the lead. He always has.
And when people underestimate them, when they’re unprepared for Ghost’s patience and even less prepared for Soap’s bite, they feel the wrath of Ghost’s attack dog, let loose.
Ghost likes that he can call Johnny back in, but he likes letting him free even more.
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noodles-and-tea · 2 months
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parentlock for the soul?
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His dear Watson <\3
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hydrachea · 3 months
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Do you think god lives in fear of what they've created.
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dandelion-roots · 4 months
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[ID: a digital redraw of the scene where chuuya shoots dazai in the shoulder. on the top of the drawing is chuuya holding a guy to dazai's head in the red and grey hallways of the prison. on the bottom of the drawing is dazai's pained face. the gunshot is shown stylistically as hectic lines behind his bloody shoulder. over the image is half a quote from goncharov that reads 'if we really were in love you wouldn't have missed.' the signature says dandelion-roots. end ID]
This quote from Goncharov (1973) in relation to soukoku has been haunting me from before I even got to that scene in the anime (the full thing is: Katya- Of course we're in love, that's why I tried to shoot you/ Goncharov- If we really were in love you wouldn't have missed). Violence as a tool for communicating emotions, especially love and hatred, especially love and hatred makes me go feral- how could I not think of the iconic quote that says that katya's miss was a sign of a lack of love/a fake love when chuuya didn't miss? Just... losing it over here.
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satoru is a puppydog who pretends to be a big bad wolf and suguru is a wolf pretending to be a domesticated dog, hiding his claws and the snap of his jaw (doctors come in and start pulling me away)
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andy-clutterbuck · 2 months
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The Ones Who Live | 1x01 | Years
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sneaky-eel · 5 months
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Desmond let this man murder for you!
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little-pondhead · 4 months
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Danny moved to Gotham.
Freakshow is touring in Gotham.
Freakshow knows Danny is in Gotham.
Danny knows Freakshow is still after him.
Danny's faith in heroes has been shattered.
Danny turns to the only person powerful enough to run Freakshow out of town, hopefully for good.
Danny turns to the Joker for help.
The Joker is looking for a new punching bag sidekick after Harley Quinn left him.
Danny is just the perfect person to be shaped by the Joker's hands.
Danny becomes the new Joker Junior.
#pondhead blurbs#dpxdc#how we feeling about this fellas#i think it's an ideal angst fic#but i don't wanna write it lol#the younger danny is the worse it gets#someone said that danny shouldn't be afraid of the joker because he's a clown and freakshow is a ringmaster. not a clown#if i find that post i'll tag the creator cause i can't remember rn#but i'm imagining danny who is heavily traumatized and scared and lonely#finding out that one of his worst enemies he hoped to never see again is hunting him and is so close danny has to check his eyes every day#just to make sure they haven't turned red#his anxiety is out of control and he's not about to go find a Bat or Bird to talk to#who would believe him anyways? he's a monster#but danny needs help cause he will not survive this on his own and he knows it#freakshow haunts his every waking dream#but freakshow isn't from gotham. he doesn't have the city's curses engraved into his blood. he never died and he's not truly teasing death#so danny chooses to plead for help from the only predator bigger than freakshow (in his eyes) who IS from gotham#danny goes to the Joker. prepared to offer everything but his free will and free mind. he can't give those up. it's all he has.#danny is a feral house cat asking a tiger to take care of a mountain lion for him by offering the tiger his own liver on a silver platter#joker is...delighted? maybe? no one is quite sure. but he takes what danny offers.#here is this little boy. almost the same age as the second robin when he died. pleading for the JOKER to be his savior. this will be fun
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s1ushyz · 3 months
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I'm going absolutely insane over him.
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cuubism · 5 months
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work is driving me fucking insane this week, so here's this silly self-indulgent thing i wrote to distract myself.
the spirit of this post is here as well XD
coffee shop au, meet cute, literally falling for your crush
--
In retrospect, forgetting to eat for three meals in a row wasn't Dream's best move. Not that he'd done it on purpose. Hence the forgetting. But taking time to cook always felt so wasteful when he was finally making progress on his novel. He could eat later, whenever the hyperfocus burned itself out.
The only thing that eventually got him out of the house was caffeine. He'd run out of both coffee and tea in the dysfunction of this week, and thus was forced to venture out to the cafe a few blocks away from his flat in search of enough energy to keep him awake for a few more hours.
Technically, there was a place that was closer. There was also a grocery store, where he could have bought coffee grounds. But Dream took the excuse to go a bit further, and not for the quality of the coffee.
He and Johanna, on the occasion she could convince Dream to leave the house and attempt to be part of society, had first started coming to this particular coffee shop because Johanna's girlfriend Rachel worked there. But Dream had to admit that what really kept him coming back, including at times when he wasn't being dragged along by Johanna, was another employee entirely.
Hob.
Hob was, in Rachel's words, "a perfectly nice guy but I don't know why you're so obsessed with him." In Johanna's words, Hob was, "quite fit, I can't lie, but I really thought you'd have gone for someone who's a bit more of an arts gremlin like you."
In Dream's words, Hob was perfect. He always had a smile for Dream, and a kind word or compliment, and he had kind eyes, and nice hands, and was terribly handsome. Dream had never been particularly attracted to masculinity before but Hob was proving him wrong over and over. He looked like he was strong enough to pick Dream up, and that did all sorts of exciting things to Dream's insides. Dream may or may not have had an actual dream about Hob holding his hand.
Hob also made terrible coffee. But Dream didn't care. He took whatever coffee Hob made him, whether the grounds were burnt, or it had way too much cream, or was vastly overbrewed, and drank it quite happily, sneaking looks at Hob all the while. Because Hob's coffee might be awful, but he always smiled at Dream as he gave it to him, and sometimes their hands brushed and it sent a thrilling little shock up Dream's arms. And anything Hob made for him felt made with love, he could tell, it was like a homemade birthday cake with uneven frosting and an undercooked part in the middle.
It was possible Dream should care more about the quality of the coffee and less about the symbolism of it.
In any case, he went to the coffee shop, underfed and undercaffeinated, hoping that Hob would be there, even if it meant he would have to down another cup of extremely bad coffee. Hob should be there, he did usually work Tuesday afternoons, not that Dream had memorized his schedule like a stalker or anything.
He stepped inside, the little bell over the door jingling, and found that he was right, Hob was there. A thrill of delight ran through him. Dream did not often feel anything as carefree or joyous as delight, but he was very sleep-deprived, and Hob was there, so there it was. Rachel was also working, and waved to him as he stepped up to the counter. As she and Johanna were both very aware of his embarrassing crush on Hob--much to Dream's chagrin--she didn't come over to take his order, instead leaving him to Hob.
"Hey, it's Dream, right?" said Hob, wiping off his hands on a towel and leaning on the counter, looking at Dream with a smile. He knows my name, Dream thought with a heady rush, then remembered that Hob was obligated to write it on his coffee cup, and that Dream came here often, and it didn't have to mean anything. "Dark roast with almond milk and caramel?"
How Hob could be so diligent about remembering his order and so terrible at making it, Dream didn't know. "That's correct," he said.
Behind Hob, Rachel mouthed keep going, which Dream took to mean that if he wanted to get anywhere he had to attempt to engage Hob in slightly more conversation than his usual coffee-ordering script. This was unfortunately true, particularly since Hob had already nullified half the sentences Dream would usually say by predicting his order.
"You remembered my order," he said, which felt like a reasonably normal response, definitely better than do you want to see if you can pick me up? which would probably be creepy. Rachel gave him a thumbs up.
"Of course. You're quite memorable," said Hob, and winked at him. Was he flirting? Dream would like to think so, but he wasn't usually very good at picking up on that sort of thing. Why would Hob be interested in him anyway? Perhaps he meant that Dream was memorable in a bad way, that he was annoying or weird, or--
Dream still hadn't responded.
"I am not trying to be," he said, and behind Hob, Rachel sighed. It was true, though. In most areas of life Dream preferred to go unnoticed. It was only Hob's attention that made him feel all bubbly inside.
"Task failed successfully," said Hob, "because I can't stop noticing you."
Was Dream... still succeeding at the conversation? That was truly unexpected, that he hadn't already turned Hob off by being utterly unsuitable for human society.
"Is that a good thing?" Dream asked.
"Is it?" asked Hob.
Undoubtedly it was. Dream liked the thought of Hob noticing him. He liked the thought of Hob remembering his name, and his coffee order, and when he came into the cafe, with as much detail as Dream had memorized his schedule. He did not normally like having people's eyes on him but he liked the thought of Hob looking. Of Hob caring about what he saw. It made him feel interesting and worthy, and sort of giddy and lightheaded--
Oh. No. That wasn't Hob's attention. That was the fact that the last meal he'd eaten had been a sleeve of biscuits for breakfast two days ago, and that he'd been on his feet for a long time, or what constituted a long time when one had only had a sleeve of biscuits two days ago to eat. And he hadn't slept, and he'd had quite an exciting few minutes just now, and apparently this all meant that his body had decided it needed to check out for a moment, thanks, goodbye.
Inconvenient timing, Dream thought, as everything went sort of spinny and blurry. He was making such progress! He really thought Hob might even like him, and falling on the ground was not going to help his case.
Inevitable now, though. The last thing he saw before he passed out was Hob's face, expression shifting from amusement to concern, and really, there were worse ways to go out.
He woke up not much later, or at least it felt like little time had passed, to find himself lying down on a couch in what seemed to be the cafe's back office, as best as his overtaxed mind could gather. And Hob was crouched beside him, looking at him worriedly, Rachel leaning over his shoulder, face likewise creased in concern.
Dream wondered how he had gotten to the couch. Had Hob carried him there? It was a pleasant thought, though he wished he could have experienced it in person.
"You know," said Hob, "there are easier ways to get out of talking to me than blacking out." The words were light, but he sounded genuinely stressed out about it.
Dream immediately felt bad. "I'm sorry."
Hob chucked him on the cheek, a light touch that felt fond. "Not what I meant. Are you okay?"
Dream carefully pushed himself up to sitting, Hob watching all the while, hands hovering over him but not touching. Dream sat up. His head didn't spin. "I am okay," he said.
"Probably didn't eat anything today, huh?" said Rachel. She didn't look quite as concerned as Hob did, she was used to Dream's habits. Meanwhile, for all Hob knew, Dream had a brain tumor and would imminently die.
"No," Dream admitted. "I was... occupied."
"Will you be okay here for a sec?" Hob asked, brow scrunching as if he truly thought Dream might just collapse again onto the floor without him. "I'll get you some water. Something to eat, too."
It was worth fainting in a public place, Dream thought, just to have Hob look at him with such care.
When Dream nodded, Hob hurried away to do just that.
Only now his crush was going to be one million times worse, and certainly not reciprocated, not after the scene he'd caused.
Beside him, Rachel was laughing, hiding it behind her hand.
"Is my suffering humorous to you?" Dream asked, but there was no heat in it, he was too busy looking after where Hob had disappeared.
"You should have seen it," she said. "He launched himself over the counter to catch you. Oh my god, I wish you could have witnessed it."
"Surely Hob would aid any customer in distress," Dream sniffed. But something turned over in his stomach, a little flutter of hope.
"Yeah but not literally vault the counter. It was terrific. I was worried he'd break a hip."
"I'm not that old," said Hob, coming back around the corner and crouching beside Dream again, water bottle and what looked like a chocolate muffin clasped in his hands.
Rachel was unrepentant. "You're lucky you didn't wind up on the floor, too."
"You caught me," said Dream, staring into Hob's eyes. He had such pretty eyes. Rich brown, like coffee with a dash of cream.
Dream might still be a bit lightheaded.
"Of course," said Hob, and uncapped the water, handing it to him. Dream took slow sips, realizing as he did that he hadn't drank any water all day. "I'm fond of you, you know. Can't let you hit your head on the floor."
Fond. Dream might faint again.
"Should I take you to hospital or something?" Hob asked, still so concerned it was making that floaty feeling bubble up again in Dream's chest.
"I will be fine here," he said.
"He just fell for you, that's all," said Rachel, and Dream glared at her. She just smiled back. "Swooned and everything."
"I did not swoon," Dream protested.
"You kind of did, actually," said Hob. "I've never seen someone just crumple so dramatically."
"Oh, have you seen many people faint, then?"
"No, but--"
"I'm going to man the till," said Rachel, patting Dream on the arm. "I don't think I want to be in the middle of this. Let me know if you want me to take you home, Dream." She winked at him. "Unless you'd rather Hob do it."
Johanna was never this meddlesome, Dream thought bitterly. She just made fun of him and left it at that.
Then he was alone with Hob, which was both an exciting and anxiety-inducing state of affairs. He clutched his water bottle for balance.
"Um. I got you this," said Hob, and handed him the muffin. "Made them this morning."
Dream was really quite hungry, so despite Hob's poor coffee record, he took a bite of the muffin.
And this was how he learned that Hob was utterly lacking in coffee-making skills because all his talent was in baking.
The chocolate was so rich, it tasted more like cake than a muffin. the chocolate chips melted on his tongue, and he had to force himself not to just immediately take another huge bite. He really was so hungry. Perhaps, now that he knew he could get such things here, he would have a reason to visit the cafe other than just Hob -- and a reason to eat breakfast, too.
"Good?" said Hob, and Dream nodded, licking the melted chocolate from his lips, and he didn't fail to notice Hob watching the movement of his tongue. Perhaps Johanna and Rachel were right, and it wasn't hopeless, even if Dream's best attempt at flirting back was collapsing onto the floor.
He did not know what possessed him then. Perhaps it was the chocolate. Perhaps it was the worry still lingering in Hob's warm eyes, or maybe he had just hit his head and forgotten about it. Either way, he leaned forward in his seat, and kissed Hob on the lips.
His lips were so soft. Just as Dream had dreamt they would be. Hob made a sound of surprise against Dream's mouth, and caught him by the arms so he wouldn't fall out of his chair. Which was a definite possibility, though now the lightheadedness was not caused by a calorie deficit but rather because he was kissing Hob.
Hob who was kissing him back, too. Softening against his mouth, licking the remaining chocolate from Dream's lips. Would Hob hug him, too? If he had already caught him? Dream had fantasized so much about being hugged by Hob.
Only one way to find out. He leaned into Hob's arms, and Hob caught him again, wrapping his arms around Dream's back. He was so warm, and strong. He was wonderful.
"It is a good thing," he said into Hob's shoulder.
"What is?"
"You noticing me."
Hob chuckled. The sound rumbled through Dream's chest. "It's not hard to do. I've been eyeing you for a while, you know. I always hoped you'd talk to me more."
"I am not very good at talking more," said Dream.
"I think I've got that now." Hob pulled back to look at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. "Falling over is more your style."
"I only faint on occasion," Dream protested, which only seemed to amuse Hob more.
"Well. If talking is a bit tough, maybe we can go for a walk sometime?" He tucked a strand of Dream's hair behind his ear, and Dream shivered. Hob clocked it, too, and let his hand rest on the back of Dream's head, fingers curled in his hair as his gaze flicked to Dream's lips and back up. "Or. Something else?"
Dream thought something else might make him spontaneously combust. That might have to wait a bit, at least until he could cope with Hob looking at him like that without feeling like he was about to explode in a flurry of butterflies.
"A walk, if you will hold my hand," he said, and Hob smiled, and took his hand, and Dream learned that all dreams really could come true at once.
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super-nowa-art · 8 months
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guess who got to whole cake island
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temeyes · 7 months
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so normal for him
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