god knows

I think I forgot I was watching a Batman show. Like I completely forgot what universe this was in and I completely forgot what Oswald and Ed were going to be in the future. I just saw them as Ed and Ozzie. 

And then I was like. Yo man did Batman ever know how gay Oswald was for the Riddler cause damn.

pearwaldorf  asked:

Pike and Scanlan. I could see Pike as a slightly more ethereal bard, but I want to see what a cleric Scanlan would be like.

Fun fact, did you know Pathfinder has a diety that ascended to godhood accidentally and continues to spend his time drinking and carousing and telling tall tales?


Scanlan is ten, maybe eleven, when he sneaks in the backdoor of the tavern that will change his like. It’s name, Freedom’s Fortune, sounds like as likely a place as any to try and talk someone into a meal for the night. He’s getting a little old for the ‘poor child’ routine, and in all honesty, it’s only because humans are shit at telling the ages of gnomes he’s been able to milk this as far as he has. There’s a man sitting at the bar, already deep in his cups with half a plate of food in front of him gesturing wildly to an uninterested audience that has easy mark written all over him.

So Scanlan goes up to him, all wide eyes and ‘gee mister’s and ‘won’t you tell me that one again’s and against his own will, gets sucked into the story. Dressed in simple chainmail, the man at the bar speaks with an authority that belies the number of tankards in front of him. He speaks of the freedom of the open road, of the good that a stalwart adventurer could do in the world, of the joys to be found in a good cup of ale coming in off the road, and he does it all with a glitter in his eye that Scanlan envies. 

Scanlan, because he is just a kid and starving, steals a tankard off the bartop when everyone else is looking the other way, distracted by a brawl between the half-orc performer and an unruly farmer.

He tries to pawn the tankard the next day, and finds it returned to his pack by nightfall, his coin purse eight copper lighter. 

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imagine steve and bucky escaping to the mountains. no civil war. imagine them canoeing on the lake, nothing but them and the slosh of water around their oars and their boat, the call of the loon distant and echoing. steve turning around every so often, like he still can’t believe that bucky is there, that he’s so lucky. imagine bucky pressing steve against the wall of their cabin, the setting sun shining on them. bucky kissing steve’s noises away, his metal hand gouging holes into the wood. steve laughing when he sees them, and it makes bucky laugh, too, and they kiss and laugh, young again, before stripping completely and running into the lake: bucky first, then steve.

imagine early mornings, frost still on the grass, the edges of the water glinting ice in the sunlight. both of them clad in denim jackets and cozy flannel, drinking steaming coffee with their hands intertwined on the porch railing. bucky looking over at steve and smiling, saying, “i love you,” a little forlorn like he’s making up for the seventy years he couldn’t say it. steve smiling back, setting his coffee down on the railing and cupping bucky’s jaw with his hand. saying, “i love you, too,” the warmth of his palm the warmest bucky’s felt in a long time. steve leaning in to let their noses brush, their lips, before properly kissing him and sliding his fingers into bucky’s hair. imagine steve pinning bucky to the rug on the hearth, clasping their hands together while the fire plays over them, flesh-and-metal, as they move together, unhurried, like the world is theirs.

and maybe it is: maybe time slows down for them, two lovers who could have been star-crossed but sidestepped it. maybe they deserve it, scratchy wool and the omnipresent smell of soot and smoke. imagine the sun rising and the sun setting. imagine neither of them giving a damn about ever going back, hands clasped on the wood, an entire mountain between them and who they were. there was a time when they would have moved those mountains for each other. now they don’t need to.


Remember that time when I first drew comic related to Tumbling Together?
I thought it was just a few panels I drew for fun and now it has grown into a 9-page-on-going something in my sketch book like what’s the hell???

I really didn’t see that coming…

the best worst thing - Molnija - Haikyuu!! [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Relationships: Shirabu Kenjirou/Yahaba Shigeru, really small mentions of Akaoi and Goshihina
Characters:Shirabu Kenjirou,Yahaba Shigeru, with guest appearances by Oikawa Tooru and the Akizaka University volleyball club manager
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, this is for the hq-rare-pairs halloween fest!, i’d tag this with something else but i honestly don’t know with what, it’s actually really dumb, seijoh and shiratorizawa have never played each other, because it would have been inconvenient
Language: English
Words: 14932
Chapters: 1/1

Shirabu Kenjirou was cursed, he decided after the third downpour of frogs onto his balcony.

In which Yahaba’s pettiness knows no bounds, Shirabu suffers the consequences, and magic may be involved.

it’s 3am end me now
there’s probably some mistakes still in there I just needed to finally get it out … good god …….