#although they're right

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

Brennan: not counting anything you would feel morally compelled to do, just for fun, what would be the best cantrip in real life?

Me: Prestidigitation. Obviously. No question about it.

Everyone in unison: Prestidigitation.

Me: Oh good they're not fools.

[fearandhatred]

listen that good omens lockdown phone call is literally WHAT I HAVE BEEN SAYING everything they tell each other goes in one ear and straight out the other it's kind of incredible

aziraphale hints so many times that crowley could come over if he wanted and does crowley get the hint? no! and then afterwards crowley says outright that he could visit him, and does aziraphale accept? NO! I AM GOING TO THROTTLE THE LIFE OUT OF THEM WITH MY BARE HANDS

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXVIII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Danny has another hashtag breakdown! Man, we've got a lot of these, huh? It's YJ's fault this time; whoopsie doodles! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

“Danny,” Diana says from the door.

Danny looks up from his place in the book. It’s definitely aimed at younger kids, but it’s a pretty wordy picture book; there are a couple paragraphs he can’t quite parse, but he’s making pretty good progress on the words he can’t recognize.

It’s a story about a cat who misses its mother. Danny tries not to relate to it too much.

“Hm?” he asks, flipping the front flap of the dust cover over his current pages to mark his place. The book goes back onto the nightstand, beside his space shuttle; Danny uses the railing beside his bed to support himself stepping up and out of his wheelchair, leaning on the railing until he can figure out…wait, where’d he leave his old people walker?

“This walk is long. You will want your chair.”

Well, then. Couldn’t she have said that before Danny did all that pulling? Danny falls back into his chair, kinda peeved. “Fine.”

Diana smiles. She doesn’t have to wear the mask around him anymore— Danny’s pretty sure that his injuries have been declared as clotted, or sealed, or whatever at this rate. They for sure swabbed his ectoplasm and came to some kind of conclusion, anyway, which means he only looks gross, but isn’t, like…actively leaking fluids.

On the one hand, gross! But, well, you know. Nothing for it but bandaids and time.

And her face looks nice. Danny hadn’t known what she’d looked like, before. She smiles when she sees him. Her light eyes crinkle, and her lips turn up… She’s nice. Danny’s sure that she’s only there to be in charge of him in case he gets scary, but she’s in charge of him and she’s nice. She doesn’t have to be nice; lots of people have been in charge of him and been mean about it. There was that one guy who kept holding him—with the taser—

(Time slips away from him, a little. When he gets back to the world in front of him, Diana is carefully looking at his face, the back of her hand stroking the back of his.)

Danny’s in his chair. He’s not…there. He’s in his chair, on a big space station (????) with a bunch of really colorful fighters on it, and Diana is touching his hand (that’s so much weaker and slower than it used to be) and he’s not hungry and he’s only scared because of memories. He’s safe. He’s not being pinned down by the neck so that they can strap down his wrists and hips to the table—they’re not shocking him—he can move his fingers, he’s not stuck in his core—

His core throbs. Danny bites into his bisected lip, and tries not to cry.

“Are you alright?” Diana asks, voice gentled. The soft touch of her hand doesn’t stop. “We can wait. There is no—“

Danny shakes his head, and takes his hand away so he could wipe at his eyes. It’s fine. Bad memories are everywhere: in the walls, in the floor, in the ceiling, in the hands of people taking care of him. That’s not… There’s nothing Danny can do about that. That just. Takes time.

…He think he might have that time. Now. He thought he would die for good in that five by five box, waiting for something that would finally end him instead of just keeping him in a cycle of injuries he never fully healed from.

But now he’s not. He’s here.

He wants to keep going.

“Alright,” Diana says, slow and careful. “Hold on.”

Danny doesn’t hold on—or, well, you know, he engages his core muscles and all that, but he doesn’t cling to his arm rests or to the frame of his chair because he knows that Diana is really, really strong, but she also really, really doesn’t want to hurt him.

She rolls him out of the medical wing and into the space station proper. Danny feels like he’s been here before, but he doesn’t remember it super well. Maybe it was when he was sick or something? Either way, a lot of different people wave at him as they go by—or just straight up stare, if they’re rude—and Danny generally just watches people rush by, carrying all kinds of equipment, and a potted plant, and a…starfish in a jar…?

Oh, the starfish waves at him???? Danny waves back because?? What??

Danny rolls to a stop at a smooth, cylindrical elevator. It looks like a giant test tube.

…Oh boy. Danny takes a deep breath, and holds it. Reflexively. Sure, this elevator probably isn’t like being dunked into water to see if his body absorbs ambient oxygen from the atmosphere or if his biology is truly not oxygen-based, but the memory is. Bad.

They go upwards. Nothing happens but Diana’s pushed button.

Danny exhales.

They get off at a section of the base Danny’s never been to, and it's essentially just a long, somewhat narrow hallway. The walls are actually painted a creamy off-white here, and there’s…like…decorative panels towards the base of his wheels trailing down the hallway? An orange ceiling, too?

Huh??

The rooms are numbered, but they’re not plain steel like in other areas downstairs; some of them have stickers, or drawings, or marker written straight onto the door itself. They look...cozy...? Danny thinks so, anyway, compared to the rest of the ultra high tech space base.

They roll to a stop in front of a door. It’s got a number on it, same as all the others, but there’s a box cutout taped to the front of it. The—

—The print is of the same style of space shuttle Danny keeps next to his bed, inked onto glorious cardboard medium.

Danny stares.

“Gegrapa,” Diana urges, so gentle. Too bad that, uh, Danny doesn’t know that one. He looks at her. She mimes touching the door— Oh. Got it.

Danny leans forward just enough to touch the door with his fingertips.

The door says something in a robotic voice, but the synthesizer is too mangled for Danny to make out the words. The door slides open horizontally into the wall, instead of the way the other doors open like portals or from below, and it’s kind of cool?

Inside is a bedroom. Danny stares.

…No, it’s actually a bedroom. Not a medical wing, not a cot, not a repurposed conference room or—it’s actually got a bed in it. Like. A real one. There’s a wooden headboard and it’s got a mattress on it that’s thicker than a VCR.

There’s constellation sheets on a bed big enough to curl up on.

There’s a nightstand, a small desk on the far wall—there’s a little lip where the bedroom dips into a tiny sitting room, a small television on a table and a small table and chair. It’s kind of…it’s kind of like a little hotel suite.

Danny’s mouth goes dry.

He doesn’t move, and Diana doesn’t wheel him in. “It’s okay,” Diana says, and—Danny almost flinches when she touches his hair, but it’s only Diana, who’s never hit him, and they’re fine. He’s…safe. It’s safe. He’s safe here. “Do you want to go in?”

Danny doesn’t move. His hands don’t touch the wheels. They’re shaking; he puts his hands in his lap and he tries to breathe. “…What?” he asks hoarsely.

“A rum for my Danny,” Diana murmurs, quietly. Danny’s heart throbs at the possessive. “You are healthier now. You do not need doctors every hour, but only sum hours. You cuðe spenda more time here, all ana.”

Words go by so fast even at Diana's smooth, unhurried pace— and Danny licks dry, split lips. He looks around the room—and the room is small, sure, but they're in space. Space will always be a premium. Even in this small room, though, the furniture is sparse and placed distant from each other…distant enough that Danny can wheel around freely in his chair.

There’s a Moon clock display hung on the wall over the doorway, and Danny can faintly see the outline of what he assumes is the current lunar phase as seen from Earth.

Having the lamp isn’t exactly the same as glow-in-the-dark-stars, and thank goodness for that. If it had been, Danny might have cried.

(Or, he realizes, something burning in his eyes that isn’t ectoplasm, maybe he is crying.)

“...Me?” Danny asks, terrified to know the answer. Is this room for him?? Is he getting a room here? Is he supposed to stay here? On the moon?! Is he supposed to stay with everyone here, in a tiny room, where there’s nowhere to go and nowhere to escape?

…It’s a bedroom. It’s already so much more than the stupid guys in white ever gave him.

“Yes,” Diana says, and lets go of his hair. “Use it, or do not. Sitta here, or sitta in the medical bay, but now you have two choices.”

Okay. So Danny has choices. He swallows his feelings—they taste a lot like snot—and rolls himself inside to inspect the room.

There’s another little fridge inside the sitting area. It’s not right next to the bed like it is beside Danny’s cot, but it is the same style of fridge. When Danny pops the door open, it has the same styles of snacks. Fig Einsteins. Peanut butter squeezies and applesauce squeezies and yogurt squeezies. Protein shakes in bottles. Pedialight. Hummus packs.

Danny might still need someone to open the snack packs for him. That’s kind of a high dexterity food, if he thinks about it.

“If you wish to sitta here, we will visit you all you like. There is a belle at your bed,” Diana says, and walks in with all her purple scrubs and tied-up hair to point to a little button on his nightstand. It’s red. It’s got a little smiley face sticker next to it, and Danny thinks he recognizes the style from one of his nurse’s bestickered name tags. Belle is probably a direct cognate for bell. He’ll be able to get everyone to come up here if he needs help.

…Okay, that’s kind of nice. To have personal space. He hasn’t had that since… Danny’s eyes squint as he thinks; he rubs an eye. Wait, when had he been squatting under a conference table? Was that a real memory??

Diana is very tall, even in the little space, but when she ducks her head, the gesture makes her a little smaller, a little more manageable for Danny’s lower-than-usual-gaze. Now that he can see her expression, she looks soft, and even uncertain, even though she looks stone and strong on the television when she goes out to fight. “Do you like it?” she asks.

Danny fidgets.

He—does. He likes it a lot. The room doesn’t have any windows, but if Danny moved all his things in here, got used to being able to come and go, and people coming in and out…this space could be just another space. It’s quieter than the medical ward. More peaceful.

…The room is utterly devoid of other people.

(Danny thinks of The Box. Danny thinks of being in The Box.)

(Danny doesn’t like remembering The Box.)

“I am scared,” Danny admits to his twitching thumbs, his fingers itching for a fidget toy or one of his physical therapy tools. Diana’s face immediately drops.

���Why are you scared?”

I’ll be alone Danny wants to say, but he doesn’t know the word for alone and he struggled with phrasing. “No…people here.”

“That is triewe. You would have more dīegolnes here,” Diana agrees, and straightens out of her crouch. “Is that good, or bad?”

It isn’t good and it isn’t bad…? Danny isn’t sure how to phrase it. It’s neither. Being alone is just scary.

“You not hurt me,” Danny tries, knowing he’s missing some connecting word in the middle. He ignores how Diana comes back to kneel beside him, because if he looks at her, he won’t say anything. “Do not.”

“No,” Diana says, from beside and below him, gentle, careful. “We do not.”

No. They don’t. Danny swallows. “Bad…hurt me.” He doesn’t know the word for Earth or planet or even downstairs, so he just meekly points downwards.

Diana stills. It’s like watching Vlad’s Maddie cat spot a bird to hunt down. Danny tries not to feel pinned. “On eorþegearde?” she asks, still light, still gentle. Danny can hear a shadow of steel, though, and he counts himself lucky that she’s never treated him like an enemy. Danny quickly nods. His eyes squeeze shut.

“Who?” Diana asks feather-light.

Danny doesn’t want to tell them what he is. Admitting the name of the agency hunting him itself would be given in.

…But maybe if he doesn’t say the name…and they...and they promised they'd help hide him...

He wants to be right. Danny wants to be right that they're nice, and that they want to help him. Danny wants to be right that they want to protect him. As long as he never, nevernotevernever tells them he's a ghost...

Maybe someone will help him. This time.

“Bad,” Danny repeats, because he genuinely has no idea how to translate?? “Wants…hurts me? For…” WHAT WORDS DOES HE KNOW? Danny gives up and just draws a y-shaped autopsy incision on his chest. It goes down from his collarbones to his belly button.

Diana watches. Her eyes are sharp.

“Do you feel safe with the staff dunstæger in medical?” Diana is quick on the ball with the question and Danny nods quickly—he’s never alone there, and no one’s ever hurt him, and people whose job it is to help people are always coming in and out, and Medical helps them too.

“Good,” Danny whispers. “Talk…talks to me.”

“Ealne weg,” Diana affirms firmly. Whatever that means. “We will cepa you safe.”

You safe and we is all Danny needs to hear. He could probably cry by himself, but Danny wants the comfort anyway; Diana lets Danny take her hands into his, and he lets tears fall into someone else’s grip instead of his own.

*

Bruce is halfway to the monitor room before he feels himself be picked up from underneath the armpits.

Usually finding himself at inappropriate heights involves horseplay from Clark. No one else would be so bold as to actually put their hands on him within the professional setting of the Watchtower—and Bruce has worked very, very hard on maintaining a reputation that keeps the handsier of his fellows at bay.

The culprit is not Clark this time. Bruce finds himself looking downward at Diana’s tearstained face, fury and resignation warring in her expression.

Bruce is careful not to sigh. “Wonder Woman. What is the matter?”

“Someone,” Diana grits out, voice carefully modulated to cut out her own pain, “Hurt my charge.”

On the one hand, the situation with their patient is exactly as Bruce had expected. The circumstance is tragic. The circumstance was predictable.

On the other, Diana's new upset means that Bruce now has more information to work with than ever before.

Bruce can work with this.

“Tell me everything.” Bruce’s voice is just as firm—even held midair like a cat. “I will help you in every way I can.”

[sundry-whovengerslocked]

Doctor Who "Rogue" memes

I've made memes. enjoy.

(contains slight spoilers)

firstly, ones that are more encompassing:

regarding the episode itself:

and finally, Captain Jack Harkness stages of grief:

[moongothic]

So I rewatched the entirety of the Baroque Works saga for the first time in quite a few years, and before that I did also finaly watch MelonTeee's video essay about the East Blue Saga. And naturally I am now plagued with some Thoughts™

So in her essay (which you should go and watch if you haven't already, let's be real) MelonTeee discussed how one of East Blue's key themes was people's treasures, be it items, dreams and most importantly other people, and the way people are willing to sacrifice their lives or their own dreams to protect those who are dear to them. Rewatching Baroque Works Saga, the key, long running themes I picked up on were that of

Trust and betrayal (Laboon at the time being under the impression that his friends had betrayed him and left him to rot at Reverse Mountain; Whiskey Peak is all about backstabbing people; Little Garden was about Dorry and Broggy's friendship being too strong for either party to believe the other had betrayed them; Croc's trust issues in Alabasta being his ultimate downfall)

Friendship and unbreakable bonds (Laboon's new bonds with Luffy and co; Dorry and Broggy again; the comparison between Chopper trying to say goodbye to Luffy and co only to be denied vs Vivi's farewell)

What makes a country, a good ruler and if/when is overthrowing a ruler justified (Drum and Alabasta explore these together)

And perhaps most importantly, protecting that what is important to you. And that one in particular I feel like is the Alabasta arc's main theme on its own, as it comes up over and over again.

The Rebel Army wants to protect their country from their "corrupt king" by overthrowing him; the King wants to protect his people from needless bloodshed and tries to avoid combat; Vivi wants to protect her people but also her friends and can't find the strenght to beg them for help lest they get hurt on her behalf; Luffy wants to protect his friends and Vivi so they don't get killed by the likes of Crocodile. Protecting those you love is an important theme in this arc, it is the arc's very heart as the conflict is was born out of that love. And that's why it's so interesting to me how Crocodile's motif seems to be being a protector, a guardian. And I'm not just talking about the "Croc is based on Sobek the Egyptian crocodile headed protector god" and "Guardian of Alabasta"- if that was all then I'm not sure I'd even go as far as to call it a "motif" for him, but it comes back to haunt us again in Marineford with the ever legendary

And that is just... curious. Because Crocodile as we know him is just Some Asshole with no weaknesses and nothing he cares about except for his own ambition. So being a protector being his motif, of all fucking people, is really interesting. Like, One Piece doesn't really do shallow villians, there's always a reason to why a character has become the way they have and why they're doing what they're doing.

Kaidou was raised in an environment where one justified the reason for their existence through strenght and combat alone.

Doflamingo hates the world and wants it to just fucking burn because he never let go of the entitlement of being a World Noble.

Lucci was brainwashed into becoming a warrior for absolute justice since he was a small child.

Arlong watched his people suffer from the oppression of humans first hand and that hatred consumed his heart.

Wapol was a spoiled nepobaby manchild who thought he should be allowed to do whatever the fuck he wanted because he's King.

Why the fuck is Crocodile the way he is. Why does he want to create a utopia, a military nation powerful enough to rival the WG itself. What has driven him to to strive for that goal. Why is being a protector his motif.

East Blue explored the things you are willing to do and the lenghts you're willing to go for your "treasure", the ones you love and care about. And Alabasta is about protecting them; even if not called that explicitly, Alabasta is about protecting your treasure. On one hand, having the man with no treasure, nothing and no one he wants to protect, as the primary antagonist of the arc that about protecting your loved ones is a great juxtaposition. Like there is an argument to be made that the reason Crocodile lost is because he had nothing to lose, while everyone else in the arc had everything to lose in this conflict and thus couldn't afford it, as they'd be left with nothing. And, looking at Alabasta on its own, as a standalone arc, that does work. But when you look at One Piece as a whole, when you look at everything that came before and after, I can't help but to feel that can't be the case, can it? Surely Crocodile has something he did want to protect after all?

[sysig]

can i ask for larry and kabu.... is it allowed......... if not i can ask for something else lol

Day 2 - Warm feelings

[thefriendoforatioisdead]

Wan so gay she forgot she was married and just went back to flirting with her best-friend

[siryyeet]

Oh you have complicated feelings towards Germany? Let me make 91836373 assumptions about it with my piss poor understanding of history, not listen to germans at all and then come to a horrendously bad and false conclusion on why that is! Also I think you germans should stop feeling guilty and be proud of your country again!

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts 0.2 Birth by Sleep - A Fragmentary Passage

[sallymew4]

kids when they hear that their dad is back in town VS. kids when theyre hanging out with a conman that accidentally stole their wallet once

im not even joking btw

bonus heres me being crazy about them in dms ^^^

[welcometogrouchland]

I miss them so bad (Dick and Damian)

[pastryjay]

I know some OFMD fans have become more biased against Izzy content, Izzy fans, and Con himself due to two years of discourse, and I get it, but that is not an excuse for this. Some people have to be more careful/ respectful of the way they talk about Con O'Neill.

Context: he streamed a workshop about creative insults titled 'How To f*ck off with Con O'Neill'. This was explicitly stated to be for people 18+ only. At one point, he was seen briefly wearing only boxer shorts and a t-shirt in his own home. This was in a non-sexual context - he was just sitting down. Now, he's being called out for sexual harrassment and indecent exposure because of that.

Firstly, i'd like to say that anybody loudly offended by this 'incident' has made it clear that they didn't attend the workshop, and those who did attend are fine with it. The Venn diagram of people who wanted to attend that event and people who love Con's cheeky humour is a circle. Con knows his audience and his audience know him. You, random person who doesn't like Con much anyway, don't have to like it but it making you uncomfortable doesn't mean it is morally wrong.

It's important to note that Con O'Neill is open about being queer and proud about that. He is not shy about his sexuality or willing to censor his queerness e.g. he's not afraid to make suggestive (but not overly explicit) jokes or show his support for queer fanart. That is a good thing! It reeks of homophobia seeing him getting accused of being perverted just for existing as himself. It's not the first time either. In the past, OFMD fans have called him gross, a freak and creepy for sharing suggestive fanart to his Instagram.

It's wild to see all the focus on a cheeky, harmless moment when there are so, so many real issues in the world. Countless people are out there committing real sexual harrassment daily. Focusing on this queer man over nothing is dangerous. Accusing queer people of preying on those around them just by existing is literally right-wing rhetoric. Especially as there is a bigger push than ever from right-wing politicians to paint queer people as dangerous predators. Censorship, homophobia and puritanism is not welcome in the fandom for a show about queer joy.

Lastly, To the people mad about this: Why are you fine with anybody posting thirst traps online or people existing in swimwear in public, but you cry about 'not consenting' to seeing a queer man in boxer shorts and a shirt? Why are you upset about Con doing this, but love it when Rhys Darby posts shirtless photos to his Insta stories for fans? Why is it okay for most people to be comfortable in their sexuality/ their own body... but not Con?

I know the kind of people who need to see this probably won't take any of it on board, but it is really uncomfortable to see the way some people are talking. If many people like myself (I have been very critical of some Izzy fans and mostly avoid Izzy content) disagree with you, maybe you should re-think what you are saying.

[myimaginationplain]

do you ever think about how Ohkubo extremely casually dropped the fact that Spirit & Kami were teen parents & then proceeded to never expound upon that fact or bring it up ever again despite it explaining a whole lot about them & Maka

[clumsycapitolunicorn]

"Will you please stay?" | "I need you."

TED LASSO | GOOD OMENS

[paris-geller-was-straightwashed]

disney is a coward so I know they'll never do this, but given what we learned was SUPPOSE to happen between alex and stevie, I would still love a post-eloping for the reboot.

like just imagine alex and stevie as the Cool Gay Aunts(tm) for justin's kids (+ billie). they show up for the holidays and totally shower the kids with magical gifts, including a baby dragon for the boys (which does end up setting fire to their parents bed sheets). milo shows off a magic trick to his friends, using alex (since billie's not allowed to) sneakily casting spells from the bushes so the card really does dissapear from his hand, leaving his friends cheering (stevie smiling but refusing to admit to alex how cute is it). stevie has a motorcycle (which alex thinks is super hot but also refuses to admit) and while the kids aren't old enough for a ride, she does let them sit on it and rev the handles nice and loud while justin panics from the porch. they team up with all three kids to pull pranks on justin and even sometimes get giana in on a few harmless ones. maybe alex even uses her role on the tribunal to get stevie's records cleared, and they both start to advocate for a more fair way of distributing magic between families.

and billie could have an extra adult at her side! I know justin is suppose to fill the pseudo-dad role, but while billie spends her time with the russo's, also gets to spend her summers or whatever with her two cool wizard aunts. they encourage her to keep up with her studies but for the most part they just chill, letting billie indulge in a few sweets (knowing how health-conscious justin has forced his family to be) and sometimes in a pg-13 movie together. when she's there however, the house does turn into a prank war; guests are to be extremely careful when entering and encouraged to bring a separate pair of clothes.

I dunno it would just be super cool; alex and stevie reunited and I think the kids would love her too - plus watching their aunt who's always acted so aloof get all smiley and whatnot and I'm just imagining a scenario with alex and the kids like:

billie: why does stevie call you babygirl

alex: hey who wants to play the quiet game!!

[this-is-a-love-story-isnt-it]

Lois and Clark 2x13