#but I want SO BAD to just say it’s all of timeline

[starry-bi-sky]

first off -- you posted this 7:35 AM my time and 10 minutes later i woke up so im choosing to believe that the universe saw you made this and decided to shake me awake screaming "GIRLL YOU GOTTA LOOK AT THIS" i am so 💖💖💖💞💖♥️💖💗 over iiiIITT. i love it. i love them. the first video being from the same day as the fight bruce saw is so good. That's such a good tie. Beautiful, poetic. They make me so emotional.

"Who am I if not a blood blossom stan and yapper" 🤝 CHEERS I'LL DRINK TO THAT

im dedicating this to @detectivedarling. i felt inspired after seeing their little ficlet yesterday sadhjfl 🫶

-

Danny's grip on his cane tightens.

"What—"

His voice cracks. He stops, clears it, then tries again in spite of the nausea twisting in his gut. "What are — you, uh, watching, Bruce?" He sounds horribly far away.

Bruce doesn't look at him, his attention laser-focused on the screen. Which is— fine. It's usually not a problem, Bruce gets like that when he hyper-focuses on a case, and unless it's urgent — or he's been at it for hours — Danny sees no need to pull him away from it. He likes the quiet camaraderie they have, it's companionable and unique to the two of them.

He wishes he was right now though. Looking at him, that is.

That way he wasn't watching what was clearly one of Danny's ghost fights. One of the nastier ones, if the collateral damage and rubble on the street is of any indication.

Danny tries to remember which one that is. He shuffles a little closer to the desk, ignoring the rock in his stomach or the ugly weightlessness in his arms. It's not the blood blossoms, that much he knows. He just recently had an injection so it shouldn't be bothering him this soon—

So it's just nerves. Perfect.

Most footage of his fights are— messy, at best. Unusable at worst. Amity Park was obsessed with appearing 'normal' when they first started happening, and typical news stations censor the worst of the fights anyways for publishing, since they can get pretty gory at times. And ghosts move too fast to be caught on regular standard cameras, not including distance and light and—

That is to say— finding usable ghost fight videos is hard.

Danny wonders how Bruce got his hands on this one, and then stops wondering.

The audio is muted, which is - good. Good, because the fight is ugly and chaotic and clearly this was taken on someone's phone. Fuck, he can't remember if he ever saw that before — clearly not. They're hiding behind an overturned car, and Danny grits his teeth so he doesn't tell that idiot to run.

The camera turns up, and focuses on two figures in the air. It takes a few seconds, but when it does, Danny gets hit with a wave of vertigo. His grip tightens and he leans heavily on his cane, he waits for the black dots to disappear.

He- uh, he remembers this fight now. Uh, sort of.

He remembers being twelve at the time, and he remembers some of the injuries he got out of it. His eyelid spasms abruptly. This ghost wasn't one of his regulars, so he doesn't remember whatever name they had, barely remembered what they looked like up until- uh. Now.

Was he always that small? Well— Phantom's never been particularly big, perks of being a dead kid, but— it's - different. Seeing it from an outsider perspective. Was he that small? Or is it just because he's wearing a jumpsuit clearly too big for him that casts the illusion of being small?

Doesn't really - matter. Now. He can't access his ghost form, and he already knows the answers to his appearance.

Phantom is clearly bleeding, viscous and violently green like the bubbles of a lava lamp, clutching onto a limp shoulder that's missing an arm from the elbow down. Half his face is drenched in similar blood, the eye on the drenched side is closed — not because he can't see through the ectoplasm.

Danny's memories of that fight slowly come in a bit clearer. Right. He took a pole to the eye in that one. That had - hurt. A lot. Getting an eye gouged out usually does. It and the missing arm took hours to grow back.

He rubs his eye with his palm for no other reason than it itches.

The other ghost isn't untouched of any injury either, but he's not in a state of dismemberment like Phantom is.

Danny drops his gaze down at Bruce, whose sitting in his chair with his hands threaded together, looking so tense that Danny half expects to meet solid steel if he were to touch his back. His face is - blank. Terribly blank, with an intensity in his eyes that Danny doesn't see often.

He looks terribly distressed.

He opens his mouth, and finds that nothing comes out. His throat is thick with an ugly, tar-like feeling that makes his eyes sting. Kinda reminds him of when someone wraps their hands around your throat and presses. He closes his mouth, then tries again.

"B—" hhhhhh, "Buzz."

Finally Bruce looks at him, one hand slaps the space button on the keyboard, and the video pauses. His expression doesn't shift, but there's a weight in the lines of his face that reminds Danny of a set of weights sagging.

He looks quite like he's grieving something.

Bruce opens his mouth, his voice comes out terribly soft and heartbroken: "He looks like you."

Which is— a terrifying sentence in and of itself. One that makes Danny's legs shake and ignite his ragged, poison-chewed nerves alight with the need to run. An instinctive urge to deny, deny, deny.

How could he? He could say, that's a ghost, Bruce. I'm not a ghost. He could crack a joke, and ask, 'do I look dead to you?' or say something about how he knows that his parents studied ghosts, but that didn't make him one.

He could say that, and he could say it knowing full well that Bruce would see right through it. He'd probably let Danny too.

Danny closes his eyes. They sting, you see? So does his nose, right in the back like someone popped him in the face. And his throat is thick and gross and like someone stuck a spider, the big fat tarantula kind, right down into his esophagus.

He breathes in — through his mouth, because his nose stings and so it'd be best not to irritate it further with air — and it's terribly shaky and uneven. But it clears a pathway to his lungs big enough for him to say — whisper, really:

"You know, I think you're the first person to notice that."

[fairyminnie444]

Helloooo.I really love your posts esp abt believe and kowing.but have one question.I just read you post called "ur not persisting if you are checking the 3d and waiting".it is really good but I have one question.u said that if 3d is not showing my manifestation then it means that its just showing me the old continuation of my old beliefs.but if we live in multiverse and infinte realities exist how 3 d can be delaying the manifestatio.if everything exists in the same timeline how that's possible.I mean there are infinite 3ds and I am so tired of reading that 3d is delaying.I am so impatient and 3d delaying makes me more angry.not to judge your post but i'm just curious.if im the operant power of my reality how i have to see 3d delaying smth.i dont undersstand.3d has to obey me.why i dont see instant results.or its all abt me?

When I say 3D is showing the “old continuation” of past beliefs, I don’t mean that reality is stuck or lagging. It’s just that your awareness is still tuned into that version of reality instead of fully embodying the new one. Since we live in an infinite multiverse where all versions exist simultaneously, the shift happens instantly—but your awareness has to be locked into the new reality, not the absence of it.

So why does it seem like there’s a delay?

Because checking 3D = acknowledging the old reality still exists for you. The moment you look at 3D and think, “Where is it?” you reinforce that reality where you’re still waiting. It’s not 3D delaying—it’s you confirming the delay as real.

So yes, it's all about you but not in a bad way because it's all about you and you already got it. So act like it.

Also, when I say to see bad circumstances as old, it is precisely for you to act according to your desire realized, that is, DO NOT IDENTIFY YOURSELF with this reality anymore. Saying that it is your "old beliefs" is denying what you don’t want and affirming your new reality. It is all about your perception. YOU put yourself in your DR, you align yourself with your desired reality. It is just a mirror.

[bigolbigolguy]

We Just Translate.

Author's Note: Hey, y'all! I have not written any sort of fic since grade school and started this way later than I intended but I really wanted to be a part of this lovely little celebration. Thanks for looking!

----------------------

Joe wished he could take his words and run them through a sieve. Pick out the best parts and piece them back together so that he could make David understand. He internally cursed himself whenever he opened his mouth to wax poetic and out spilled callousness. Sometimes he’d march right up to Webster with every intention of spilling his guts but at the first sight of David’s simpering smile he’d feel his belly burn. 

“Fuck you lookin’ at, Web?”

“Fucking nothing, Liebgott.”

Joe was head over fucking heels. David was tactful, David was decent, David was studying goddamn literature. Joe had no right to be sniffing around a man like that anymore than David had any right getting his writer’s hands bloody halfway across the world. In the relative peace of Haguenau, David would settle away from the men to chain-smoke and scribble in that dogeared notebook with his mouth lax and his brow furrowed while Joe practically chewed a hole in his own cheek trying not to ask him what the hell he was writing about anyway (and only halfway hoping it might be him). 

Sometimes they’d fall into step together, and David would offer him an obvious olive branch. He’d ask Joe about his family or his plans for after the war or his favorite issue of Dick Tracy. Joe’s mind would race and he’d try with every fiber of his being to gently take the conversational baton, answer in that cheeky sort of way he had spoken to the girls back home, but instead he’d snarl out a response so harsh that even the war-torn men next to them would avert their eyes. As usual, Webster would take a drag of his cigarette, shake his head, and sigh that sigh that drove Liebgott up a goddamn wall. 

“Just trying to make conversation, Lieb.”

“Yeah, well, you’re pretty fucking bad at it, Webster.”

At night, Joe would stare up at the ceiling and practice his German. He enjoyed translating in his head; it gave him something to focus on that wasn’t the stray mortar shriek or the soft snores of David across the room. There was something about the severity of the language that made it easier for him to think up gentler words. Sleep would inevitably claim him before he had said all he wanted to say to Webster, even if it was just in the privacy of his own imagination. 

The next morning felt a little different for Joe, maybe it was the snow melting under a sun that felt warmer every day, maybe it was his stomach being full more often than not, maybe it was the fact that they’d both made it across that icy river relatively safe and relatively sound. At any rate, Joe never felt braver than he did at this moment, so he bit the bullet and grabbed David by the arm.

“Du bist nicht so schlimm, Web.”

“Danke, Lieb."

Things changed after that. Joe would whistle to himself during the day while dodging the pokes and prods of a teasing Grant. Whenever he’d catch David’s eye, they’d both grin, goofy and wide, learning to speak to one another without words. Joe felt his heart hammer and swell in a way it hadn’t since he’d first hopped out of a plane. Though this didn’t feel like plummeting to certain destruction, this felt like standing at the precipice of creation. 

Months down the line, after a bit of bitching, a lot of moaning, and a whole war ending, the day came for them to be shipped home. Joe had a California address folded neatly in his pocket and hope beating in his chest. As the minutes ticked down, he craned his neck for a head of thick curls. Joe elbowed his way through the antsy crowd and made a beeline for David. He hauled him into a dark corner before pressing their smiles together, David’s laughter bright and adoring. 

“Ich liebe dich, David.”

“Ich liebe dich mehr, Joe.”

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Author's note (again): I know the timeline is a little funky and it's a bit rushed but hope y'all enjoyed it! Happy Valentine's Day!!

"Du bist nicht so schlimm" = you're not that bad

"Ich liebe dich" = I love you

"Ich liebe dich merh" = I love you more

[athena-xox]

In my quest to explain everything we know about the narrators is… ugh

Because I want to say that Brooke is just saying bullshit. Like just completely lying for fun because I think would be so funny and would def help with the explanation

“Oh yeah I live in the mirrornet and I’m best friends with the lorax what about you guys?”

But UGH. EUGH. AHHH.

I know that that probably shouldn’t count. But !!!

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Kitten Lair

Hello I am back! @spotaus get in here friend!

And I know... I know... a bit earlier in the timeline again but i had an idea :D

:D :D :D

Because i am weak! :D

timeline wise: Nightmare got changed into a child like three and a half months ago in this drabble. so the gang has been in farmtale for two weeksish.

first drabble prev drabble next drabble

No beta! We going :D

*-------------------------*

Ccino pauses the clenaing of the counter as he waits impatiently for the last customer to leave. He loves and adores his cat cafe but it is already past 5 and he has been passive aggressively cleaning the tables around them.

Luckily the customers finish up soon after and leave with a cheerful wave.

Ccino rushes to turn the open sign to closed and turns off the main lamps. He closes the roll curtains and gets to work on cleaning the last table.

He however waits with cleaning the coffee machine, just in case.

Ccino keeps glancing at the enterance as he goes about cleaning up the cat toys and hearding the cats out of the kitchen once again. He fills their food bowls and puts fresh water into the water bowls and water fountains.

A glance at the clock shows that it is already half past six and Ccino sighs again.

No show again.

one of the cats stares at him and mews. Ccino glances over and knows it is Berry. He chuckles nad pets him "I dunno little Berry. Maybe I am overreacting..."

He can't help it. Ccino had just gotten used to having Nightmare visit once a week.

Many would proabbly tell him to tell the Stars. to make it obvious something was wrong. There had to be after all with Nightmare visiting.

Except that all Nightmare would do at first was study the cats. Ccino had once managed to collect all his courage, which wasn't a lot mind you, and ask Nightmare what he was doing.

Nightmare had looked at him before answering calmly. That he wanted to study the cats.

Ccino had been very worried. Mostly because there was one small detail about his cafe that people just seemed to ignore. there were the normal cats. the cats that ccino took in and helped find new owners for.

Then there were the special cats. the cats he would never let anyone adopt.

How do you explain that the reason a cat has blue fur is because the cat is somehow connected to an important player in the multiverse?

Yeah. He can't explain that.

Yet... none of the cross-multiverse customers ever seemed to notice. And that is saying something as the cats are not subtle!

But... Nightmare hadn't been here for that. He would always come after closing. He would just spend his time watching the cats interact and play togehter. And then he would leave after an hour.

Ccino had watched him watch them. Taking note that Nightmare never once actually reached out to touch them, even after the cats had gone over to investigate him!

he had pointed it out to nightmare once. just to see. mentioned that the cat near him now really liked pets. Nightmare had frowned slightly before slowly and so carefully petting the cat near him.

That had been a turning point. it is just... it is hard to see someone as evil and unredeemable when he just stared in wonder at a cat who accepted his petting.

Nightmare would keep coming by and Ccino would start to ask him what he wanted drink or food wise. Nightmare had been confused but Ccino had just pointed out the cafe part of the whole situation.

Nightmare would always order the same two things. An ice coffee with a lot of cream and sugar and the white chocolate cheesecake.

He would sit in a chair and just pet the cats that seemed to follow him around.

Nightmare meeting his own cat had been a sight to behold honestly. Noot had sneaked into the area without Ccino noticing only to have Nightmare suddenly have his own cat version licking his skull as if Noot had been planning on licking the goop away.

Trying to keep Noot or any of the gang cats away from Nightmare had been a struggle and eventually Ccino just gave up. He let the special cats near the outcode and nothing bad happened. Nightmar ejust petted the cats that came near him and left the ones who didn't alone.

Ccino sighs and turns off the coffee machine when it hits seven.

He is worried.

Which is stupid! There is no reason why Ccino should be worried about Nightmare! Maybe the other is just busy or something!

But here he is. waiting anxiously for one of his favourite customers to return.

Yes Ccino knows it is weird to grow slightly protective over a god but people just don't get it. Seeing someone interact with animals can change your perspective of someone and the way Nightmare just seemed so fascinated and mystified by the cats? Ccino can't explain how the wonder was just something he hadn't seen on just any customers. Nightmare had looked like he was only learning about cats for the first time in his life.

Ccino shakes his skull and focusses on the cats. he quickly finds Noot and their newest arrival.

Ccino smiles "Hey there Noot. How is your little friend doing?"

Noot opens his one eye and looks up before moving one of his four tails and revealing the little kitten that had just appeared.

Ccino has a good idea of who this little cat is. He had heard the rumours going around. About Dust and Cross having been spotted with a tiny babybones.

Ccino figures that is the kitten. Still strange that Noot was the one to first show up wiht the kitten just riding his back. It wasn't until a while later that the others in the cat gang got invested in the kitten, Dust- euh. Murder was first. Murder would pick the kitten up and go towards a spot and lazily clean the ktiten in the warm sunlight. Killer- well Stain was next. He went all up in Murder's business to get near the kitten. All while Noot just watched over them. Rust had been next and made sure to bring food to the tiny kitten. Rust never seemed to mind the ktiten playing even if it hit the headwound. Oreo was last but was now all over the kitten. staying near and watching continuously.

Another curious thing. How the five adult cats made sure to keep the new kitten far away from any of the other cats. a few tried and Ccino had been worried Murder would live up to his name for a moment there.

Ccino smiles nad pets Noot "Maybe that is why he hasn't visited... I am going to assume you are the baby's main babysitter with how often you are clsoe to the kitten."

It is just.. Noot has been getting slower and weaker. it may not be obvious to others but it was obvious to Ccino. the way Noot tended to hide more. ate less. spend more time just laying around instead of stalking others. How Noot would no longer climb to high places and just stay near the ground.

It is worrisome.

But Ccino has no idea what to do with this information... In matter of fact everyone seemed happy about the fact that the gang was quiet.

Ccino carefully strokes the soft fur of Noot "I am sorry i can't help more."

Noot however looks fully calm as he pushes his skull into the hand for a pet before turning back to the kitten and cleaning him.

Ccino follows the sight. It is a pretty little kitten alright. A beautiful black coat which seems to shine a slight purple in the direct sunlight. soft purple eyes and just the cutest little pink nose and pink toebeans.

The tiny kitten mews uphappily as Noot cleans him. some of that very soft fur sticking up from the cleaning.

Ccino sighs as he pets the older cat, noting that the sharp eyes seemed duller as well, before going to check the other cats. seeing the four other cats join their leader and kitten.

Ccino tries to calm himself as he goes back to the kitchen to finish cleaning and preparing.

everything is going to be okay.

*-------------------------*

Look. I am not gonna lie. I am weak for Ccino and Nightmare having been friends :D

first drabble prev drabble next drabble

[writer-room]

Isn't it fun how everyone saw what terrified them most, but Nya's was so "unbelievable" that she broke out instantly? She was shown the one thing that was supposed to terrify her, make her spiral. But of course it wasn't real. It's Jay. If there's one thing she never once doubted, its that Jay is absolutely smitten, so of course he'd never forget her. What a silly thing to think, to be afraid of. She went through so damn much for this boy, and him for her, and we know how she is. Wouldn't it be petrifying if all that work, all that emotional turmoil, that clawing for love, could be forgotten just like that? Its quite a feat, really, that she can finally be confident in knowing such a fear is irrational.

It was easy to break free from such a place. It was only ever meant to scare her, and she has nothing to be afraid of. Right?

[sillyabtmusic]

hmmm hwon

[javierduffy]

After they've been together for a while and Kieran's come out of his shell a bit (esp around the rest of the gang) for some reason I can imagine him just being like. Very forward. Not outright flirty but he loves Javier SO MUCH he's practically vibrating with it. It's spilling from his mouth every time he talks w/ him. Not right out of the gate, though. He starts with small comments in the morning. A compliment here, a cheesy line there. But by the end of the day if you listen closely you can hear an increasing amount of stutters from Javirr's guitar and Kieran knows he's got him when he looks away he's so flustered and the whole time Kieran's just blinking innocently and grinning like mad he's so in love UGH. If he does not kiss his bf breathless within the next 10 seconds he WILL explode

NOOO I AGREE COMPLETELYYYYY YOU GET ME YOU UNDERSTAND !!! kieran, as shy (if you want to call keeping your mouth shut to spare yourself the trouble of getting shot in the head “shy”) and awkward as he is, speaks his mind and is willing to be quite verbal about what he’s thinking ! i listened to his ambient voice lines the other day and he really is very vocal when he doesn’t feel that being the alternative would jeopardize his wellbeing, and i think the reason people don’t notice is because when he’s challenged, he’s often willing to fold on his perspective, mostly just to preserve his own safety because of his audience. i mean, he literally FORCED the vdl’s to take him in, and he often bows up at arthur and will challenge/confront him (because he’s most familiar with him). plus, he’s very openly complimentary towards mary-beth, even as early as horse-shoe. kieran duffy has little to no problems with speaking if you really listen !

so absolutely yes he does say what’s on his mind even and especially when it comes to javier. hell, i believe that kieran complimented him even before they got together, before javier even liked him (or acted like it, at least). he’s just a lover at heart ! i think that would be one of the reasons that javier becomes less hostile towards kieran to begin with- because kieran is so gentle with everyone, and initially, javier is always shocked when he isn’t the exception, even when he generally avoids him or even treats him outright poorly. kieran’s gentility isn’t a survival skill, it’s an innate part of who he is. so even before he’s especially comfortable with javier, on rare occasion, kieran would say a “you look nice today, mister !” or a “you’ve got that knife looking mighty spiffy, would love something like that for myself some day.” before he can really even think about it. it always pissed javier off, of course, because ‘that stupid pretty, sweet, charming, handsome bastard of an o’driscoll has no right to even look at him, nonetheless like him or anything he does ! and it certainly didn’t feel good to hear him say it !’.

but when they get together, kieran’s compliments change- not only because javi now knows that he means them from a full homo place, but because kieran is now able to say things that have been on his mind for months. when they’re away from camp, kieran swoons and fawns and waxes poetry as best his awkward and mildly educated self can. i really believe that it takes him no time at all (i say this, i mean a month or so) to work up to jumping into sharing his adoration when they’re alone, because when javier finally chose him back, kieran got his permission to love him, and he’d been waiting on that for ages. kieran duffy has been starving for love for all 23 years of his life, and he’s got such a craving for it that it makes him the best cook in the world because then every crumb matters. being a lover with no one to love has left kieran with a keenly honed sense of adoration- a natural skill he has sharpened to a perfect point in all of his quiet isolation. javier practically drowns in it once he’s exposed to the full capacity of it. you’re absolutely right that it isn’t too long before kieran has javier wrapped perfectly, lovingly, obediently around his finger. when kieran sits politely on the bedroll next to his beautiful musician as he plays for his usual crowd of outlaws, when he peers over at him through long brunette lashes, when javier can feel his gaze on his fingers as they pluck the strings (and some rare nights, javier knows exactly what kinds of thoughts are in kieran’s mind, which only flusters him further. especially when kieran feigns innocence if ever accused of lust, all the way up until they’re alone, in which he’s quite happy to share imagery from his vivid imagination.). usually, though, kieran wants nothing more out of it than to let javier know just how much he adores him, how pretty he thinks he is, how perfect his voice is, how every little thing about him drives kieran crazy- and it’s out of lack of recent exposure that javier’s tolerance for it all is so low. that’s what he tells himself, anyway. kieran may not be a poet, but he’s sure honest, and sometimes, that hits harder than elegant prose.

i do so love the thought of a flustered javier, especially when he’s the one who is supposedly the “romantic” of the two. man can dish it out but he can’t take it </3 kieran sparingly shares touches with him throughout the day as well, placing a hand on the back of javier’s collar when he’s leaning over his shoulder to peer at whatever javier is intending to show him (a map for a small job he’s planning, an upgrade on his revolver or knife, the poison throwing knives he’s gingerly handling as he explains to kieran how to coat them evenly for a quicker kill), hooking a finger into the waistband of javier’s pants or his suspenders as they smoke alone early in the morning by the scout campfire, touches the tips of their boots together as they both work their separate chores of cleaning saddles and sharpening knives. kieran says i love you throughout the day in a million different ways. like you said, he’s practically vibrating with it. by the end of the day, after kieran’s shared with javi how his eyes look like the perfect cup of coffee in the sun, how he’s real purdy first thing in the morning, how he missed him the other day while he was out on a job, all the while burning holes into javier’s skin with every little touch he sneaks in when they’re on the same side of camp, javier is a puddle on the ground. he’s anxiously fiddling with his guitar before playing and missing notes when he does, desperately cleaning his boots and hat more to soothe his hot gut, and taking solo fishing trips to either verbally rant his feelings out loud in spanish or rub one out because kieran is driving him absolutely insane, and they’ve not been together quite long enough for javier to justify dragging him out of camp every single day to get some privacy and/or blow off some steam (in more ways than one, depending on the day).

the longer they’re together, the more brazen he gets, absolutely. placing a hand on javier’s shoulder while he sits next to him at the campfire with other gang members, tucking javi’s hair behind his ear when it’s down and they’re chatting late at night, saying “oh, i do love you.��, “yes, sweetheart?”, “javier, my dear-“ in front of some other gang members while they’re talking or addressing each other, and it simply turns javier’s brain off. to be bravely loved is such a privilege and it almost sends a shiver down his spine every time kieran does it. to kieran, it’s almost like he can’t even help it, doesn’t even really think about it too much after a while. sure, he’s anxious at first, especially with how javier will react since he’s essentially constantly around his tough-love family who will absolutely mock him for it if he lets them, but seeing javier get so flustered because of how little he expected kieran to be so bold, it’s addicting. immensely. plus, kieran knows javier may not come back to him every time he leaves camp, and he’s lost enough in his lifetime to regret not loving javier to his full capacity. it won’t get them hurt, so he’s happy to be brave, because he’ll know that if either of them die, they will die having loved and been loved at 100%. now, he doesn’t think too hard about any of that. really, kieran just can’t help but love javier- can’t help but want to tell him that he’s the most beautiful person he’d ever met, tell him how much he matters to him, tell him how special his heart is, show him how much he loves him, indelibly, intricately, with every fiber of his being. if i don’t kiss him breathless within the next 10 seconds, i will die. he thinks after a long day of small touches and meager compliments, after a long day of javier tripping over his boots and unsatisfactorily twanging his guitar strings once or twice that evening nonetheless. and he says “if i dont kiss you within the next ten seconds, i will die.” and javier pauses, freezes, shocked, trapped in green eyes as the scout campfire lazily licks dances of light and shadows across their wrinkles and scars and features. and javier says, “well then, come here. you are too young to die.” as his heart beats louder in his chest than it ever has in a gunfight.

umm i think i got off topic but yes :3 i agree :3 kieran can be quite forward, even canonically ! they’re both loverboys in their own ways and equally as hungry for the others’ taste (figuratively and literally). sorry for the yap sesh ! thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me !!!!!!! i love thinking about them waygh ;__; i could talk about them all day

[seungminnnie]

.

[neriyon]

Did they learn their profession from the guildship, on their own, from a friend/family member? for Yulan!

Mix of these! He learned some basic skills in foraging, weaponmaking and mending back in his home village - including his still horrible cooking. Most of it was basic life skills stuff, like finding food and firewood on the mountainside, fixing broken gear or making arrows for his bow, but it eventually got him interested in whatever their village smith was doing. Not that she ever got to teach him much, as Yulan was soon taken as a woodwarder apparentice and had to leave the village.

When he later left the mountain and travelled Othard, he ended up staying in the bigger cities for few years, learning what he could from their craftsmen before moving on to next city. It was only after he made the trip to Eorzea that he finally got a formal, more long term apparenticeship under the Ul'dah goldsmith guild.

That's where he's been the past 25-ish years - offically he's still their employee, even if he has his own workshop nowadays and mostly chooses what jobs he wants to take. After running out of mentors to teach him within the guild, he took to studying any and all goldsmithing related records and books, eventually starting his own research into intricacies of mammet making.

So short form would be family/friend > guilds > more guilds but this time permanent position > his own research and experiments.

[keeps-ache]

okay i'm out of evil mode. peace love and a little bit of still-tired on planet earth lol 🧃

[arodrwho]

christ alive what an episode though

[lesbians-all-the-way-down]

Cryptic pregnancy with complications. Send tweet.

[todayisafridaynight]

extra thoughts but sawashiro hurts my heart so like. yeah we know his character is like sad and tragic but like. REALLY think about it and like let it set in i swear he makes me want to rip my hair out he was just a boy... wish him happiness w like. a Labrador or smthn i dont know dog breeds

i can't really. call sawashiro 100% innocent; the abuse he went through during his adolescence is definitely sad and undoubtedly contributes to his behavior now, but uhhh he still put a newborn baby in a locker LMAO?

sawashiro's agony is purely a product of his own actions. at the very least he's trying to rectify the damage he did, and that's definitely better than him not having any remorse at all

[rosemary-bells]

so as the world caves in (matt maltese) IS a ranwan song and no i will not elaborate i don’t NEED to,

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

For consideration—

Danny is many things. Student, hero, teenager, tired. Teenager and tired are shared, student is what he wants, and hero is what he has to be.

So when he’s fighting Val—Red Huntress, as dubbed by the general populace—and they get interrupted from their highly dangerous not-quite game of hide and seek by the Justice League offering her all of the training and support any hero could ever want… well.

It’s a good thing he’s already hidden, because he has no idea what to feel and ghost faces are significantly more stretchy and allow for frankly horrifying face journeys. He could just be a kid. He wanted to have mentorship. He wanted Valerie to be a great hero. He hopes she’s not getting dragged into it. He’s been given an out, possibly.

Or at the least, as Jazz would put in during the video call later that night, he could take a vacation.

Her reasons were fairly pure. He overworked himself by necessity, and he deserved time and rest and the ability to go for his own hobbies.

Danny’s were very much in the petty revenge territory. Blob ghost populations would be outright swarms in about two weeks, and that’s if the ectopi didn’t start hunting them as prey, sending them into a tizzy. Any bigger threats—well. Red Huntress was the hero, the only hero, as Superman said in his little ‘join us’ speech. Clearly, she’d been handling it so far. She’d be fine. There was even Justice League backing and support for her.

He still hid during ghost attacks. Everyone always thought he was scared of ghosts anyways and the rogue gallery had no qualms about kidnapping or otherwise targeting him as a regular teen.

Things… quickly spiral.

For Red Huntress, that is.

Suddenly, her new ghost alarm system that Batman helped her build is going off constantly. She expected an uptick, but she’s gotten maybe five hours of sleep in about as many days. It was a good thing that one of the support benefits was a paycheck, because if she hadn’t quit Nasty Burger they certainly would have fired her by then. Her grades were slipping, even with her best efforts, and her mentors who were supposed to help weren’t listening to her.

It wasn’t them ‘challenging her beliefs’ and asking her to ‘really consider if ghosts are always your enemy’ that made her fights suddenly harder. It wasn’t some adjustment period to her new training. There was just ghosts, all the time, constantly, and she didn’t even know what to do with all of them. She always just ran them off, and she had assumed they went home. She hadn’t realized the reason Phantom always captured them was because otherwise they just would not leave.

And Phantom. He was one of her rogues, play acting as hero for people he’d just put into danger. Sometimes he did—kind of—help, but it seemed more coincidental. A giant bobcat in the yard keeping the bears away sort of situation. Still dangerous, still unknown, no matter how similar he looked to something or someone friendly.

But. He’d been MIA since their last fight. And she didn’t know why.

Sure, she could guess that maybe he had heard the whole acceptance into the Junior League, or whatever it was called, that had happened. And with his whole ‘hero’ shtick, he’d maybe be a little weird about it. Not emotional, ghosts didn’t have true emotions. No matter what Black Canary was currently researching on the topic, Valerie was sure of it.

Just like she’d been sure that she was actually helping Amity Park.

If she heard one more property damage assessment, she’d strap one of her ecto guns to the lecturer and let them have a crack at it. Ghosts didn’t care about material things that mattered to other people. They might have attachments to certain types of objects or things they considered ‘theirs’, but if that thing was a living human’s… it didn’t matter, it’d be taken or broken just the same.

Sam was, of course, leading a small protest asking for Phantom’s return. She and Danny had at least three fights about it, and it wasn’t pretty.

Paulina had a different approach to the same issue, asking for recognition of her ghost boy.

Tucker was egging both on, mostly to distract Sam from actually bothering Danny, but also because he loved a good cat fight.

Danny was getting so much sleep, and he’s getting caught up in school. Sure, the school is usually at least a little on fire these days, but he actually read the assignment book for Lancer’s class. That hadn’t happened like, ever! And his Doom stats were getting pretty high, since the only grinding he had to do now was against virtual enemies that didn’t try to snap his spine… Technus notwithstanding.

As these things usually happen, Valerie blames Phantom for all of her woes, again. The Fenton Parents, being thoroughly exhausted at this point as well, completely back her.

And Danny has had a lot of time to rest and think on the actions of himself and others.

He’s been declared a menace, again. And he’s kind of tired of people not realizing that if he WANTED to be a villain, he could be. He wanted his town safe, and honestly, the ghost populace explosion was getting annoying. Red Huntress’s last “big fight” had nearly killed someone.

… He wouldn’t be Dan, oh no. He wouldn’t cause damage, he’d prevent those from being hurt, and he would generally look at the Hero Guideline Handbook he had… temporarily borrowed and copied from Val’s backpack. He’d be campy and totally not serious to anyone who didn’t realize he actually was just playing around. And him actually taking on ‘big fish’ persona in Amity Park’s ‘little pond’ should help get rid of at least some of the lower level guys.

It’s not like it’s be hard, honestly. He’d get to make his own hours, at least. And since Valerie saw Fenton as someone to protect, someone that he well knew she broke up with to ‘keep him safe’, she wouldn’t think of him twice as being Phantom. Danny wouldn’t use their friendship against her, but he could easily admit that it was a little scummy to do. But. Well. He’d always fought a bit dirty, and she had literally tried to kill him. Multiple times.

If Red Huntress was going to be a villain-like Hero, then it was simple.

Phantom just had to be a hero-like Villain.

Prompt

The justice league FINALLY investigates Amity, and realizes that they’ve made a grave mistake by letting a burgeoning hero shoulder a large problem without any training or support. They rectify this immediately by offering a position in the JL along with an assortment of mentors and other teen heroes to bond with. 

Red Huntress receives this invitation in front of Phantom, while actively trying to hunt him down.