#eh. I think it has crack potential at least

[ohwell-itsme-but-danganronpa]

Shuichi's broken gaydar (Saiouma prompt)

Shuichi's gaydar only works if he's not involved

like he can look at strangers and know, if he sees his friend look at someone that isn't him he can immediately tell, but as for himself or people liking him - no, nothing

and if he was right about someone at first but starts catching feelings he's going to backtrack on his judgement like "what if I'm just imagining things, what if this was just wishful thinking?"

so when he realizes he has feelings for Kokichi he's like "oh my god, I've been stereotyping him all this time, just because he's… like that, doesn't mean he's gay, I've been so rude for assuming"

and when people try to help him he gives them an educational speech about how straight men can and should be comfortable with platonic physical affection and being a little gnc, so they shouldn't be assuming anything about Kokichi's sexuality as that might discourage him

Kokichi in the background banging his head against the wall bc Shuichi actually convinced some of the more naive of their classmates that he's hetero

Hina: Bro tried so hard And yet still got assigned heterosexual (Personally a fan of he technically has no labels but he's definitely not cishet)

Dra: Ask him his gender and he'll give a different answer every time (none being a gender)

Beez: pulls out a wheel and lets it determine his gender for the day

and me again: this is because when you become a Kokichi liker he takes your gender and puts it in this lottery sorting machine and he runs it every day picking genders for all of us including himself in a randomized order, hope that helps once you're a part of this organization this is OUR gender

bonus because we kept talking about v3 gaydars:

Maki only makes it seem like she has a good one bc she's always minding her business and doesn't act surprised when she finds out, so people think she could tell, but she probably didn't

Kaede's actually good, for the most part, but people can't figure her out, is she being nice or is she being flirty? meanwhile it's her figuring u out by seeing your reactions and then acting accordingly

can Kiibo get "didn't know not everyone is mspec" moment? He could only be an encyclopedia or oblivious and I think it's more likely he's oblivious

Beez: itd be funny if mius worked like shuichis but in the opposite direction if someone isnt instantly attracted to her she assumes their sexuality is the opposite [sentence that lead to me making the next AU in the queue, possibly my biggest banger this far, if I say so myself]

"All those titless straight girls, like I care, they're unfuckable anyway"

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Retrogradation

Warnings: non/dubcon, coercion and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Part of Roo’s Pajama Party (October 7-8)

Prompt: Retrogradation - a backward movement. (List of prompts here) + this look

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. I hope you enjoy this one and have a lovely weekend.

This isn’t how you saw things going. Nothing ever really goes how you expect. You think you’d be used to it by now. That after all the disappointment, you would give up hope. You tried that too but it still hurts. 

You pull the blanket over the couch. You don’t anticipate a good sleep. The springs are broken and squeaky and the cushions not quite thick enough to pad the jabbing metal. You can’t complain, it’s somewhere to lay your head. That morning, you didn’t have even that. 

You try to fluff up the slightly dingy pillow. You just as sad for your brother as for yourself. This isn’t anyway to live. Thin walls, noisy neighbours, and that constant stale smell that doesn’t go away. Even so, you won’t spurn his kindness. It’s all you have. 

You can at least be grateful for the solitude. He left about an hour ago, said he’d be back in a few hours. You didn’t ask why. He’s an adult and you’re sure he has more to worry about than his errant sister. 

Before you can recline, footsteps make their way steadily down the hall. You stop and listen, watching the crack beneath door. For a moment, you think it’s just your brother but the knock that follows assures you otherwise. He wouldn’t do that. 

Hm. Maybe you should ignore it. If it’s his friend, they might assume that he’s not there. They knock again. It would be rude to not answer. What if it’s an emergency? 

You get up and cross to the door. You pause for just a moment as you think about how short your pajamas are. How the top is a bit too loose so that the top button hangs a bit lower than it should. They won’t think about that. 

You open the door and choke on your voice. You’re so stunned to see Mr. Smith there, you’re certain you’re dreaming. You must have fallen asleep and not even realised. You stare as his lashes flick to mirror your surprise. 

“Eh, think I might have the wrong place,” he says. “Sorry, love.” 

“That’s quite alright. It’s... do you remember me, Mr. Smith?” 

“Oh, yes, I do recall,” his cheek twitches, “you moved on from the kiosk, yes?” 

“I moved to the home store, sir,” you explain. He was a regular down at the south end location when you worked at the small coffee pop-up near the train station. “How are you doing?” 

He looks back and forth evasively and fixes his glasses, “very good, love. As ever.” He turns back to you. “And you...” his eyes wander up the splintering door frame, “suppose serving medium roast to the masses doesn’t pay much.” 

“It’s money. This... I’m...” you’re suddenly very self-conscious. Having to say it aloud is harder than you expect. “My brother’s letting me stay over. Just until I find a new place.” 

“Oi? What happened then?” He asks with a tweaked brow. 

“Evicted. They’re upgrading my flat to let at a higher price.” 

“Hm, I don’t think that’s very legal.” 

“I didn’t either,” you shrug. “Anyhow, I hope you find whoever you’re looking for.” 

“Me too. Say, I know it’s not your neighbourhood but you wouldn’t happen to know where I might find a lad by the name of Alex?” 

“Alex?” You echo and add your last name. “That’s my brother. How do you know him?” 

His blue eyes flicker and he takes a deep breath. His cheek ticks again. He smooths his hand over his slicked back hair. 

“Is he in?” He asks. 

“Not at the moment. Can I help? I can tell him you stopped by.” You offer. 

“Mm, well, it’s rather urgent. Any way you can tell me where he is?” 

You frown, “I can give him a call but I don’t know where he’s off to.” 

“That’ll do then.” 

There’s a solemnness to his agreement. He hardly seems happy about your solution. It is rather late. You suppose he doesn’t want to be waiting around all night. 

“Would you like to wait inside?” You ask. 

His cheek dimples and gives a single nod, “alright then.” 

You step back as he enters. You spin in search of your phone as the door clicks shut gently. You scoop up your phone and filter through for your brother’s number. You tap call and put the phone to your ear. Your keenly aware of Mr. Smith pacing by the door. It must be urgent with how restless he is. 

No pick up. You try a second time to the same end. You leave a voice mail then text for good measure. You shrug as you face Mr. Smith. 

“Sorry, sir, he’s not pickin’ up. Should I tell him you stopped by?” 

“Mm, you think he’ll be back soon?” 

“Well, he left a bit ago. I’m sure he’ll be back soon. If you want to stick around, I guess you can.” 

“Sorry if I'm imposing. I don’t mean to.” 

“No, it’s fine. Not my place,” you go to the couch and fold up the blanket and stack it on the pillow. You turn back to him once more. “Would you like a cuppa? I think Alex’as at least a few bags in the cupboard.” 

“Thank you but I’m alright,” he waves you off. “Your brother... you’re close to him?” 

“Erm, he’s my brother. We’ve not been very chummy since we were kids,” you shrug. You notice how his eyes flit around the room. You squint. “Are you looking for something?” 

His blue eyes meet yours. His jaw ticks and a dire shadow fills his eyes. You squirm. 

“You’ve any idea what business your brother’s mixed up with?” He asks. 

You swallow and shake your head, “he works down at the garage, I think.” 

“Oh, does he? And he lives here? Known some mechanics in my day, they take home a decent pay,” he says. “Yet he’s livin’ in a slum like this.” 

“Well, er, I...” a trickle flows down your spine. “Mr. Smith, why are you looking for me brother?” 

His eyes drop and he tilts his head. He sighs. He tucks his hands into his pockets before he looks at your again. 

“He’s taken something from me.” 

You stare at him. His tone, his posture, his very gaze, you know what he truly means. Alex has stolen from him. But what? 

“Well, why don’t we have a look around and see if we can find it--” you suggest. 

“That won’t do. It isn’t the sort of thing you just give back and call it even,” he says dully. His demeanour shifts with his timbre. He steps closer and you shy away. “And I’m not the sort to let that sort of thing go.” 

You know Alex lies. You know better than to buy into his stories but you wanted to believe. You wanted to hope. Still, even after all is lost, you really, truly wanted it all to turn out. 

“Oh,” you swallow.  

“You see, he’s crossed me. I’m not a man to be crossed and this isn’t it about getting back what he stole. It’s about the principle of it all. About teaching him a lesson,” he comes close until you have nowhere to go. Until he is right in front of you and the couch is against your legs. “I really wish you hadn’t have been here, sweetheart.” 

Your mouth falls open. His words are like a punch in the gut. You expect worse than that by the gleam in his eyes. 

“Mr. Smith, please, you don’t have to--” 

“You don’t get it. It’s not up to me,” he grabs you by the neck and you cry out.  

You bat your lashes at him as your eyes glisten. You don’t fight. You can’t. No matter what you do, you lose. Whether it’s him, your landlord, or life in general.  

He pushes you until you sit. His grip tightens for an instant than eases. He inhales through his nose so it flares out. 

“Will you listen?” He asks. You lower your eyes and nod. He sees right through you. He already knows you’re weak. “Alright then, don’t pull nothing.” 

He rescinds his hand. Your skin tingles where his fingers had dug in. He reaches to your top button, undoing it with both hands. You shudder and let out a squeak. He continues down the shirt and lets go. The fabric opens around your naked torso. 

Your bottom lip quivers as you stare at the tailored weave of his pants. He brushes his fingertips along your hairline and down your cheek. You lock up as his touch continues down your neck and wanders along your chest. He fondles your naked tits as your top slumps down your shoulders. 

“Get up.” 

You stand as he backs up. He grabs your upper arms and turns you with him. He takes your place on the couch. He sits back and braces his thighs. 

“Finish it. Everything off.” 

You nod and keep your head down. You shrug off the shirt and untie your shorts. You shimmy them down and kick them away.  

Your eyes are drawn up by his movement. You waver as you notice his open fly. He strokes himself above the rich brown fabric of his pants. You press your hands to your stomach and shudder. 

“Get on me,” he orders. 

You sway and dare to bring your eyes up to his face. You don’t understand. Mr. Smith was always so polite. He always tipped and wished you a good day. Why would he do this? 

“Bad luck, that’s all it is,” he assures you. “Isn’t my fault, eh? Blame your thief of a brother.” 

You gulp and step up. You bend and grab his shoulders. You feel as if you might collapse at any moment. He latches onto your hip with one hand and guides you down. You ease yourself down and wince as his tip brushes between your folds. You whimper. 

He lines up with your entrance and pushes you down. You stretch around him as you whine. Your voice grows louder and louder with each inch. Your tears leak out and you puff through your teeth. You’re set alight by the shame that underlines your pain. You won’t even resist. Like everything in life, you just let it happen. 

He takes your hand and lifts it to his cheek. He leans his jaw into your palm so his beard tickles you. He holds you like that as he rocks your hips. You roll against him, following his motion as you weep softly. He groans and bites his lip. 

You hang your head as you give yourself over to him. You snivel as your core swirls with heat and your skin speckles hotly. You bring your free hand up to wipe your nose. 

“Sir, does this—will this--” you can barely speak or think, “my brother...” 

He growls and pulls your hand further, hooking your arm around his neck as he forces you closer. 

“I’m still going to break his fucking hands,” he snarls. “But I think I’ll keep you too. Show him what it’s like to lose something.” 

You sob and nod. He runs his hand away from yours and up your arm. He nudges your chin up as he keeps your hips moving. 

He groans and grunts through shallow breaths, “don’t be sad, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you. Better than this heap.” 

[loz-the-noob]

Because I’m playing dual destinies and I miss Ema Skye with my whole heart, please take this WIP list of Silly Goofy Things Ema Has Done throughout the games I’ve played. Feel free to add to it if you think of anything I’ve missed.

Things Ema Skye has Done

Threatened to spray potentially hazardous (?) chemicals on a child

Unwittingly convinced everyone she was a crack addict

Sung a song in a court of law with very little persuasion  

Openly admitted that she intended to commit tax evasion. To a lawyer.

Accused a blind orphan of murder with a 45. caliber revolver 

Cried because she couldn’t push something over

Essentially received a bonus in the form of snacks and was completely fine with this

Apologised to a trash can 

Bullied Apollo into buying tea for her from an overpriced vending machine

Somehow confused the words “pickle” and “sausage��� in the context of a well-known phrase. 

Inexplicably physically morphed into the Prosecution’s imprisoned brother briefly during a trial. This is never addressed. 

Said ‘Ah’ AT LEAST 12 times in Apollo Justice. I’m pretty sure I missed some 

“Eh heh heh, you want to know about my tool do you?”

Signs legal documents with a little heart next to her name

Was placed on security for a major venue with literally no means of communication with backup?? She had to physically go and get people. This is not her fault.

She has been set on fire. This was also not her fault.

She’s canonically very clumsy. Allegedly breaks bulbs all the time. Did I mention I love her.

Momentarily considered going on a destructive rampage at a concert she was supposed to be security for.

Very nearly let a 15 year old girl convince her to eat potential evidence at a crime scene.

I’m 90% sure her footwear is a health and safety risk

[snekwritesstuff]

Take A Break (pt. 2 of ?)

Part 1 Here! Pairing: Doomed Polycule? I think? Word Count: 948 Warnings: Bill is once again a little shit, don't assume this is healthy yet. Otherwise, none!

hi hello we're back with this again. i have some ideas for this still but im not sure how to implement them all. anywho...enjoy!

Fiddleford was ready to wake up. As he clung to the wall behind him, he swallowed thickly at the sight of Bill in the flesh. Or at least in the…whatever he was made of. The demon's eye pierced his own, sending a bolt of anxiety through the engineer.

“Specs! Good to finally meet you, eh?” Bill said, holding out his hand and closing his eye in a smile.

Fidds could only nod, sliding down the cabin wall. 

“I hear you wanna talk! Name's Bill, though you seem to already know that.” When Fidds didn't shake his hand, he brought it back with a shrug. “And you're Fiddlesticks! Gotta say, for a hick, you seem to have a pretty nice mindscape in here. But maybe that's because you've used the old memory gun a few too many times.”

“You know about the gun?” Fidds asked, voice cracking.

“Of course I know about the gun!” Bill laughed, suddenly approaching Fidds’ face. “And I know about your wife, and about your desperation for my Fordsy.”

“My–”

“Oh, don't play dumb with me, Specs, you gave him googly eyes before you left the basement. And it's almost like, and I'm spitballing here, I'm in your head.”

Fidds’ face flushed red as he turned away. “This isn’t fair, Bill. I’m tryin’ to have a civil conversation.”

Bill blinked, taken aback for a moment. “Civil? Where Fordsy is concerned? Never.”

“So you two are…Not important. Not…yeah.” Fidds sighed, bringing a hand to his face. “Look, you’re a little intimidatin’, but if you’re makin’ him happy, then I can’t complain. Just try to be mindful of ‘im. And, well, I think you and I should at least try to play nice since we both clearly care for ‘im.”

“Hm, asking something of me without giving me something in return…Not my style, Specs.” The demon tapped a finger to where his mouth would have been if he had one. Did…he have one? “Though, I do love a good deal. How ‘bout we make one?”

Fidds shook his head vigorously. “Mama raised a godly boy, and while that may be different now, I know better than to meddle in devilish voodoo.” He shuddered with a grimace. “This dream's plenty proof for me that you exist.”

Bill twirled his cane, a hand behind his head. “Fordsy likes you too, y'know.”

“Not my business. He's got his love life, I've got mine. No need to–What?” 

With a laugh the demon swam in front of the engineer, his chin resting on folded hands and legs kicking behind him. “I couldn't give less of a damn if you like him, Fiddlesticks. I care because he always gets so prickly when his little hillbilly's involved. You're a smart one, but nothing like my Sixer.” His large eye inched ever closer towards Fidds. “Which makes me curious. Why does the greatest mind across every dimension care about someone as mediocre as you, when he has a god that cares about him and can boost his potential?” 

“I couldn’t tell you.” The sting of those words hurt more than Fidds wanted to admit. “But I know a gamble when I see one, and I'm starin’ one head on. What is he gettin’ out of this?” 

“Power beyond any mortal mind's comprehension, an expanding kingdom to rule and study as he sees fit, a life with his Muse…” The demon tapped his fingers in a counting motion. “What else could my Fordsy want? Certainly nothing you could provide.”

“Ford's not interested in power,” Fidds spat. 

“Oh-ho, boy are you wrong!” Bill laughed. “All humans want power!”

“I don't–”

“Hold on, hold on, get your suspenders out of that knot! Power manifests in different ways, Fiddlesticks.” The demon jabbed a finger towards the man's glasses. “But we're getting off topic…Here's the deal. I can't physically enter your realm unless that portal's finished.”

“Good,” the engineer growled. “I don't want you anywhere near this place.”

“I mean no harm, of course, and even if I did, Ford's willing to help me. My offer to you is if you let me drive this bad boy around every once in a while, I can make sure we both get a piece of our favorite scientist.”

Fidds’ face twisted in disgust, shaking his head again. “Ford would never. And you’ve got another thing comin’ if you think I’d let you use me to keep twistin’ his brain every which way.”

Bill shrugged. “Your loss, Fiddlesticks, but the offer’s always on the table! Anywho, time for me to go! Nothing matters, buy gold, bye–”

“Now hold your horses!” At Bill’s slow blink, Fidds continued. “That’s all? You come into my head, ruin my night, and-and you’re just gonna leave? I haven’t gotten a single word in! What do you really want with Ford?”

“I just told you, Specs, keep up!”

Fidds finally stood, shoving a finger in the demon’s face. “I ain’t stupid, Billy, you know exactly what I’m askin’ you!”

“And I ain’t tellin’ you!” Bill’s accent was a mockery, fueling Fidds’ bubbling rage. 

“Fine then! But if you hurt him, there ain’t nothin’ in any dimension that can stop me from tearing those stupid little limbs off your stupid yellow body and feeding them to you one by one.”

“Oh, don’t threaten me with a good time, Fiddlesticks!” Bill patted Fidds’ head condescendingly. “You’re fun! I’ll be here more often, I think. Bye!”

As the demon disappeared, Fidds woke up with a start. He slammed a fist against his mattress and stood. Pacing the floor, he muttered to himself before sitting at his desk and drawing up blueprints for an inter-dimensional death ray that aimed only at yellow triangles.

[saintsenara]

oooo as an unhinged ship, if it hasn’t come up before, hermione x regulus. (meaning book hermione and book regulus, not their fanon equivalents who we may safely assume can slip right into “good girl gone bad x unreasonably hot wealthy man” without trouble, and need no further consideration. idc about them. i like losers). what we know about regulus is minimal, but we can imagine for the sake of the bit that if he somehow survived, he just might have a little interest in SPEW, and canonically, hermione does go for a youngest son with fluctuating self esteem. regulus also loves making pinterest boards for his passions (which include domestic terrorism but all the same), while hermione is known to color code and decorate her study schedules. i’m curious to know your thoughts 👀 both crack-wise and more genuinely, as i love your analyses of how characters with severe divides could — or could not — reconcile their differences and overcome the obstacles.

(their biggest obstacle, of course, is harry, who bursts in on them at least three times a day to demand hermione explain why she went for the clearly less good looking brother. men are always like “i’m fighting demons” and the demons are unexplored bisexuality.)

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

while describing hermione's type as "youngest son with fluctuating self esteem" is apposite, regulus strikes me as someone as someone whose self esteem is sufficiently bulletproof that his issue is with a world which - as he sees it - doesn't respect how special and extraordinary he is, rather than feeling overlooked because he believes himself to be less special and less loved than those around him.

[hence signing his camp little note with his initials, assuming reading it will snatch voldemort's wig off and throw it across the room, when what actually happens is the dark lord doesn't even notice he's missing and undoubtedly thinks his name is reginald.]

would he enjoy being constantly nagged by hermione [which is how she expresses to those she loves that she loves them]? eh... i doubt it. although i am compelled by the crack potential of regulus joining spew for a quiet life, and helping the missus glitter-glue posters. the couple that crafts together stays together.

but what i actually think would be most interesting about these two - as i've also said in reference to shipping hermione with bellatrix - is that they have a couple of shared traits which could mesh very interestingly: an enormous capacity for loyalty and a slightly naive, slightly childlike tendency towards seeing what they want to see.

i've said this before, but hermione's astonishing loyalty is one of her most impressive traits - and contributes, in fact, far more to her role in the series than her intelligence. but it comes with the flip-side that she also - since her loyalty is directly intertwined with her inflexibility, which is her most fundamental trait, in both positive [she's resilient, logical, etc.] and negative [she's argumentative, narrow-minded, etc.] ways - has a slightly hagrid-ish tendency towards blind faith.

her inflexibility - especially the difficulty she has with considering multiple viewpoints - also contributes to her naivety. i do think it's striking, given the fanon tendency - gleaned from the films, which massively overplay this - for her to be portrayed as orders of magnitude more mature than harry and ron that she is, in many ways, the most child-like of the trio: harry begins deathly hallows by throwing away most of his school trunk, hermione takes her schoolbooks on the run as comfort items; hermione believes that she's overthrowing the institution of slavery at hogwarts because the hats she knits vanish overnight; the item left to her in dumbledore's will is a book of fairy stories; etc.

both of these - loyalty and naivety, with the positive and negative things each of them brings - is also the regulus special. he sacrifices his life in an act of absolutely breathtaking loyalty to kreacher - which is directly caused by the humiliation he feels over his blind faith in voldemort being revealed to be misguided, and, specifically, is caused by the realisation that his initial view of voldemort as someone who wanted to bump off all the mudbloods and let pureblood families rule as oligarchs over a society which was, otherwise, fundamentally unchanged in terms of social structure etc. was extraordinarily naive. the dark lord wants to live forever, and he doesn't give a fuck who gets hurt on the way.

i do think there could be something quite compelling about the two of them either having to untangle their fairly rigid approaches to life - and how much of a knock that might be to their self esteem. i also think there's something to be said for each of them seeing in the other what they want to see, and being completely unwilling to do otherwise.

you are correct to note that harry would be gagged.

[musicalmoritz]

do u hc any character on the aro/ace spectrum?

I love this question!! Unfortunately since TBHK is so heavily focused on romance, I don’t have many. Ofc aroace ppl can still date but fandoms tend to ignore the nuance of that statement and put them into relationships without considering what that means for them. I like to look at it a bit deeper because aroace headcanons do have some importance to me. My sister is aroace so every time I see a headcanon for a character being aspec I have to let her know lol. So before I get into this list I just wanted to say to any aroace ppl who see this, I love ya’ll, ya’ll are doing great <3

Nobody murder me, I’m going to explain. Typically I’m not a fan of aroace villains bcuz the trope has some nasty implications. That doesn’t mean no villain character can ever be headcanoned as aroace but I need some very good reasons before sticking with a headcanon like that. And for Tsukasa, I have my reasons!! A lot of fans tend to agree that he shouldn’t be in a relationship with anybody and that used to really annoy me because I don’t like the whole “this character is clearly mentally ill therefore they get no love” thing. I know it goes deeper than that with him being generally abusive but still. Eh. There are people with disorders that make them bad partners and those people are still very capable of getting therapy and improving. Plus most fans who say that claim to love toxic ships to like???

I’m not really a fan of any Tsukasa ships tho (I used to crack ship TsuAoi but those days are over) so I figured I would actually put some effort into giving a reason as to why he doesn’t do relationships. Rather than go the whole “he could hurt other people” route, I wanted to focus more about how Tsukasa himself would feel about dating. And to be honest? I don’t think he’d like it! He’s definitely interested in relationships as a concept but I don’t think he’s the type to take them seriously. I try to use this headcanon to humanize Tsukasa rather than demonizing him like a lot of people do with aroace villain headcanons. Love is very important to him on a platonic level but romance just isn’t his thing. And it creates a nice contrast in fics between him and characters whose lives center so much around romance. My sister actually is the one who introduced me to this hc and every aroace hc she has is law so I abide by it lmao

This one is way more recent but it makes so much sense to me. If you want to talk about characters who are more realistically potentially aroace, Tsuchigomori has never expressed the desire for a love interest in canon. When most adult male characters are single in fiction it’s seen as a problem (at least in a comedic sense), but with Tsuchigomori none of the characters question it. I feel like he has some level of interest in romance, maybe demiromantic?? But overall romantic attraction isn’t something he experiences easily

This one is more based on vibes and me hunting down every TBHK character that doesn’t have an arc connected to romantic attraction. I don’t think he realized it when he was alive because the people in his village didn’t talk about asexuality/aromanticism much. Maybe he thought he was gay but that didn’t quite feel right because his disinterest in women extended to everyone. He seems like the type to love being surrounded by people and be generally very personable, so his platonic relationships are very important to him. Just no romance

I know you specifically asked for aroace characters but I 100% see this man as demiromantic, and maybe demisexual too. Possibly completely asexual, though leaning more towards the positive side of the spectrum (or just neutral). Emotions don’t come easily to this man so love is a complicated subject but I do believe he’s capable of loving people romantically, just under specific circumstances and not in the traditional sense

I hope you liked these headcanons!! I’ve seen some others that interest me too. I once wrote a Sakuhiko request where they were both aroace and queer platonic, that was very fun. I’ve also seen both the Minamoto brothers written as asexual which is cool to me. Tbh I’m open to most types of headcanons unless I see one that inexplicably gives me the ick…but even then I mind my business bcuz I don’t have to agree with every headcanon I see. I may not have many aroace headcanons for TBHK but I have more for other fandoms, completely unrelated but I could write a whole essay on why Jean Valjean is aroace lol

[ballinandcantgetup452]

The Last Will and Testament of Lex Luthor, Part 3

It's been about a year since Lex Luthor was last seen. Clark has almost forgotten that Lex was even a thing. Sure, every once and a while, he'd think about Luthor, and maybe he'd even check and see if he's been spotted anywhere if he felt like it. But, at this point, he had just begun to feel nothing in regards to Lex. Not love, not hate, just a neutral feeling.

That is until a Lex-Bot tackled him and kamikazed him while he was flying.

He called Batman and the Atom over and they got to the wreckage as soon as they could. All that they could recover was a hard drive. They found it due to nanites, courtesy of Ray Palmer. It had essentially shot itself out of the Lex-Bot and into the nearest trash can. The nanites helped to find it.

After buying a random laptop because nobody wanted to put the Lex Luthor hard drive into theirs (and having an awkward conversation paying for a laptop completely in cash while in costume at a random Best Buy), they finally put the flash drive in to see what was on it. The only thing on it was coordinates. Coordinates placed a mile under Smallville, Kansas.

Clark immediately booked it out of the Best Buy and flew as fast as he could to the location. All that was running through Clark's mind was what Lex could possibly be doing in Smallville of all places. How does he even know that's significant to him? He began to run through every horrible thing Lex could be doing to his parents. He got faster. He began to think about the horrible things that could be happening to Lois because Lex would leak his secret identity. He got even faster. Clark's anxiety began to rapidly build up. He's never been more nervous in his life. He got to the coordinates and saw a big box made of lead about 300 feet down. Clark figured that Lex made that to make sure that Clark knew he was the one that made it. Clark began to spin down, creating a tunnel. He didn't have time to be subtle about this. Besides, nobody was around for about 20 miles. Which in country terms meant he had at least 20 minutes before somebody drove by on their way to somewhere else. He heated up his eyes in case he needed to go in guns blazing. Once he found lead, he tore it in two and landed right in front of Lex. His eyes glowing red and his game face on. He then calmed down upon seeing him. Seemingly dropping all potential for a fight. Lex looked over at Clark. He wasn't sitting in a desk with his parents in test tubes of Joker toxin. He wasn't in a power suit with a Kryptonite spear in hand, ready to throw down. Lex Luthor was on a hospital bed. An IV was inserted into his arm. Beside his bed was a table with a lead box. There was a monitor projecting his heartrate. Clark used his X-Ray vision to see what was going on with Lex.

Lex had heart cancer, and he was going to die. Soon. Very soon.

Lex coughed,

"You know, the coordinates I gave you would've put you right at the door. You could've simply waltzed right on in here, have Mercy walk you in, have some pretzels," Lex began to cough even more violently, "but instead you choose to punch a hole in this $7,000,000 facility."

Clark looked over at Lex and had nothing but sympathy in his eyes,

"Lex, I'm sorry."

Lex shrugged,

"Eh, figures. I put something in my hometown, you take it as an invitation to be as subtle as a cinder brick since there's no infrastructure around. It teaches me a lesson in the dangers of nostalgia."

Lex signals to the chair beside of him.

"Sit. Alien. I've got some things to tell you before I die."

"You're not going to die, Lex."

"Yes. I am. And there's no way in hell you're saving me."

"...what did you want to tell me?"

Lex's eyes began to fill with hatred and disdain.

"Checkmate."

Clark's look of sympathy turned into confusion,

"What?"

Lex grabbed the tiny lead box on the table beside him and opened it up. As soon as Clark saw the tiniest green shine emanate from the crack of the box Lex barely began to open, he sped over to him to force the box closed. He used his heat vision to seal it shut. Lex rolled his eyes at Clark.

"Relax, Superman, there isn't any Kryptonite in there. Mercy took it away from me months ago. I just wanted to give you a little scare, you looked too comfortable," Lex noticed that Clark began to look around the lead-made building to see if he could maybe spot any Kryptonite, "I know you're trying to spot any Kryptonite. In hindsight, that scare wasn't worth it. To make sure I have your undivided attention, the only pieces of Kryptonite are in the rail gun in Mercy's arm. I really was expecting you to take the door."

Lex continued with his diatribe.

"I win, Superman. I've managed to concoct a plan to get someone you'll never beat." Lex began to violently cough, "Do you know who it is?"

Clark already knew.

Lex continued after finishing his coughing fit,

"Death. You can never beat death. Admittedly, the premise of the idea was an accident. You see, Kryptonite can obviously affect Kryptonians. However, it can also affect humans as well. Especially humans arrogant enough to keep a piece in the breast pocket of their suits for 15 years. At first I thought I'd give you cancer, too. Hijack somebody's rocket ship doing research on the sun and force you to intervene and fly extremely close to the sun, thus causing your cells to become so supercharged they start slowly killing you. But, lucky for you, I found that to be too petty. But then I realized something, I can prove I'm better than you by doing something you could never do."

Clark looked at Lex in utter terror,

"Lex, what have you done?"

"Simple, Superman. I saved the world better than you ever could. I cured cancer."

[bestworstcase]

i think ruby clocked that the prince didn’t grasp that she and her friends *could* be hurt by his game—as upset as she is in general and as rattled as she is by the rules of the game itself, she still very much recognizes that the prince is a young child and tries to engage with him in an age appropriate way, and when he starts freaking out and runs away from the board to wail that it isn’t fair, ruby looks genuinely concerned and sorry for him. she GETS that he’s just a kid and that’s why she tries the “stop! you’re going to hurt them!” tact first. but she’s also seventeen, desperately This Is Fine’ing a nervous breakdown, and scared out of her mind for her friends while experiencing a huge crisis of her ability to lead; thus she 1. isn’t able to de-escalate successfully because in practice she’s just yelling at an already overwhelmed toddler, and 2. gets swept up in her own feelings and actually escalates after the prince gives her an out by declaring that he won. she’s upset, she’s scared, she’s angry, she gets competitive, and now we have a distraught teenager and a distraught toddler duking it out over a board game.

the cat, in contrast, swiftly defuses the situation by soothing both of them; they help the prince articulate and understand the feelings he is having so that he can release them in a better way, and they nudge ruby away from the futile “but he promised!” stubbornness by reminding her gently that things have, er, gone awry and it’s time to cut her losses and go.

which is to say, ruby already has inklings of the right answer—she just hasn’t consciously realized that yet, and the catastrophe in the red castle is… not going to help when her confidence is already shot. but what tripped her up here wasn’t ignorance or inability to read a situation (although her uncertainty as to whether the prince would really hurt her friends didn’t help)—it was getting overwhelmed. losing her head, so to speak. acting like a seventeen year old on a bad day instead of the Mature Noble Hero she’s been forced to be for so long. part of healing from the incredible harm that pedestal has done to her is letting herself be a kid again. letting a grown up (the cat) step in to help her when she’s overwhelmed and lost.

(and narratively this was also a ‘safe’ way for ruby to catastrophically fuck up, bc—wby do a number on those pawns but it is also clear that the pawns, being made of wood, will be fine. these little guys were vibing along with chips and cracks and in at least one case an entire chunk of head missing; the cat implies that the toy soldiers the prince beheads get re-headed as a matter of course; and the prince cracks his face open without getting hurt. the fight is startling bc the pawns carry toy swords (bendy!) and are explicitly aiming to trap rather than kill (cornering weiss + blake and pinning yang) whereas wby fight like they’re fighting for their lives against grimm—but the aftermath is like a child’s idea of a ‘massacre’, broken pawns lying dazed all over the scuffed up board, and none of the ever after characters react in a way that suggests lasting harm. They Just Need Some Wood Glue. or for someone to run down to the ground floor and pick up the ones who fell when the prince flipped the board. the wonderland rules of violence are very much in evidence here, putting the whole altercation firmly in ‘unfortunate, upsetting misunderstanding that might have unforeseen consequences’ territory while also highlighting the real potential for greater harm because not everything in this world is made of wood.)

the function of ruby following alyx’s footsteps with predictably bad results (<- funny how beating the red king at his own game caused huge trouble when alyx did it too, eh?) as a metaphor for how ruby’s effort to live the noble hero ideal shattered her is really, really fun. the correct answer is for ruby to eschew the ‘set path’ and do what she thinks is right instead of doing what the storybook hero is ‘supposed’ to do. she is a kind person, a gentle person who wants to help people, and that is exactly what the ever after needs her to be.

[whyiseveryname-taken]

HSR CRACK THEORY!!!

In which I tell you what I think about the Rating Pistol curio rates means.

Contains: unnecessarily long post, spoilers (1.2), written before Kafka's banner, and is more of an imagine than a proper theory.

This is the “Character Survivability” theory!

(I'll just credit the name idea from @hsr-texts, go follow them, they have character accurate chatfic)

For backstory, I was watching a theory of why the Rating Pistol curio can't rate Sampo and March. The theory comes to the conclusion of both being Eminators. Which is fair considering March is a mysterious girl with amnesia and Sampo is really suspicious.

Then I got curious and checked all of the characters' score from a fan wiki:

Now originally, I think that there's nothing wrong with that theory. It's straightforward and makes sense, the theory (for me at least) seems to imply that the lower the number is, the stronger the entity's strength.

But what bugs me was that Blade... gets an average score. Only 42, which implies more than half of the playable characters are stronger than him.

What's more strange is there are entities that's score is lower than most of the playable characters:

With Pom-Pom, sure, they could be what's left of Akivili, but this theory implies that a Bouquet is more stronger than all of the characters except four (five) specific ones.

So I just changed my ways of thinking starting with the rating invalid characters...

...I'll be honest, I forgot why my conclusion was “Character Survivability,” but now we're here, so whatever.

Think about it, Tingyun's score is 13 and her status is basically unknown (rumors said that she's dead long before we met her), meaning that character's scores that are below her's could potentially have a death flag, meaning the ones with invalid ratings (Jing Yuan, Luocha, March 7th, Sampo) could die further into the story.

Granted, this theory is a stretch, only supported by Jing Yuan blacking out in 1.2 and Himeko having a low score, but it is something to think about, eh?

Theory implies that the Rating Pistol can see the future like how Elio does, take that as you will...

Here's some interesting stuff if you go with this theory:

‌Pom-Pom has a death flag...

‌Inanimate objects break easily, so of course they have low scores

‌Herta is a puppet, not sure where the original one is, but one of her text idles consists of her losing connection to one of her puppets, so there's that.

‌Welt has a lower score than Himeko, which opens angst potential with Welt sacrificing himself to not let this Himeko die.

‌Jing Yuan and Yanqing's huge score difference, another angst potential.

‌Blade is looking for a way to die yet his score is average, it's gonna take some time to die for him.

‌How would you guys feel if Sampo would stage his own death?

‌The writers quietly leaking characters who they might kill is pretty funny, no?

But with every theory, there's a flaw. I won't shy away from them because this isn't meant to be taken seriously anyways.

‌Is Tingyun really dead?

‌Would they really kill March 7th, who's literally the game's cover. (Maybe, I don't know, the only other Mihoyo games I've played was Genshin and they're not killing playable characters as of right now...)

I have no idea what Luocha's role is

If no characters actually die, then uh...

‌Hook, a literal child barely involved in the main story, has a death flag?

This is all I have, I can update when I have another thought, but... yeah.

[marinerainbow]

Hey!! ^^ So I was reading our reactions to Nightmare Angel Bill Moseley again and Greasy and Poppy's insane bisexual reactions to cologne clone Wheezy and- a thought came to mind XDD

What if, while this is all happening (Poppy and Greasy are on the edge while Smartass and Psycho are Judging Them), little Lottie doesn't recognise Wheezy at all??? Like maybe she was on a school camp for the two weeks Wheezy was getting clean and Poppy picked her up from the camp on her way to their place- so they were seeing clean Wheezy at the same time- and Lottie is just

Completely. Blank. Looking at Wheezy.

Like Daddy who's this??? Cuz like, she would not at all be used to new people in her house XD How often do you think the weasels bring over new people??? I'd say very very rarely, if ever (barring Shiny and Poppy at some point, but those are probably the only exceptions).

And while Poppy and Greasy are struggling over how hot Wheezy is now, all Wheezy is trying to do is convince his lil niece (who he has missed while she was away!!) that it is HIM!! XD

Also- how do you think S h i n y would react to Wheezy's cologne clone look? XD I'm imagining her going like 'cough up Grease, I told you he had potential in there. You owe me a hundred bucks' 🤣

Anyway, hoping you're well! Have a good day!

Ok ok ok... I can't NOT write this out. You know I can't. You had to know this. You trapped me/silly

I hope I got baby Lottie right!! I'm assuming she's like, seven or ten at this time if she can't recognize her own unkle (either that or Clean!Wheezy is just THAT unrecognizable XDDD).

The Golden Girls VS Clean!Wheezy

I know we agreed that older Bill Mosely would be more accurate to Clean!Wheezy, but this gif was what started that whole conversation so I'm using it XD

~

"Thanks again for driving us, Shiny."

"Eh, don't worry about it. I wasn't gonna let you guys ride the bus or train tonight." Shiny shrugged as she picked up the little weasel girl out of her seat. She smiled and tapped Lottie's nose with her own, her grin growing as she let out a giggle, "Besides, I missed my favorite girl."

Poppy giggled herself as she grabbed Lottie's backpack from the trunk of the red car. In truth, she hadn't been able to stop smiling since she picked up the child from camp. How could she not? She missed her only niece. And so did her unkles- in fact, Psycho had to have a very close eye kept on him to make sure he didn't sneak off to find her!

Though, of course, nobody missed Charlotte as much as her daddy did. The only reason Smartass didn't pick up his daughter himself was because that judge they worked for (Poppy was a little scared to say his name. Like it would summon him somehow.) gave them a last minute job. All Poppy could do was volunteer to pick up his daughter, and pray for mercy on the poor soul who had to face Smartass and his gang after having the chance to see the baby sooner rather than later dashed away.

But it looked like the boys were back home- and Greasy was the one who was driving, judging by how the black dodge parked halfhazardly in the cracked driveway. Poppy had been a little worried that they wouldn't get home on time, but everything seemed to be going smoothly despite that morning hiccup. They were all going to go inside, have a heartwarming reunion, and have dinner together as a family! Nothing could go wrong. At least that was what Poppy thought as she exchanged cargo with Shiny; now holding Lottie while the weasel lady rifled through the back of her car for the rest of the baby's things, "I'll catch up. You don't wanna keep her daddy waiting. Or her uncle, for that matter."

"You're right." The rabbit giggled again before turning towards the house, "I'll come back to help you after I get Lottie inside."

"Mhmm."

It was a good thing Poppy started towards the house, since the child she was holding was starting to squirm in her hold; wordlessly voicing her distaste for how long her two aunts were taking. Poppy couldn't help but chuckle again and hurried up the porch stairs, "I'm sorry, dear. You'll see Daddy soon, don't worry."

Poppy already had a key to the house- it was given to her by Smartass of all people! At Christmas a couple of years ago. It really showed just how much he trusted and cared about her... Which was why she didn't have the heart to tell him Psycho had already given her a copy a long time ago- so she didn't need to knock and have someone else open the door. The toon kept Lottie carefully balanced in one arm as she stepped inside, grinning from ear to ear when she heard Psycho's running footsteps, "Hello, every-"

"LOTTIE!!" Just as she predicted, the one in the straightjacket got to pull his niece out of her hold first. Lottie had been already reaching out to Psycho and giggling happily. Poppy took the chance to readjust her jacket while her best friend cuddled the kit for the first time in what must have felt like ages to him, "I missed you soooooo much!"

Poppy got to count two seconds before she saw the boss himself round the corner to see his daughter. Psycho must have tripped him or disoriented him when he sped past him, judging by how he looked a little confused and very annoyed at his employee, "You little-"

"Daddy!" And just like that, the hardness in Smartass' eyes melted away nearly instantly. How could it have not with his baby now waving to him all cheerfully? Poppy could feel her heart melt when she saw the paternal smile pull at his lips before he stepped over to greet his baby- and no doubt take her away from her insane uncle despite the warning glare he was receiving. Though Psycho had no choice but to give up little Lottie when she reached out for Smartass.

Poppy shook her head before scanning the living room for the three missing weasels of the house- Actually, two now that Stupid was excitedly coming down the stairs. It was odd; she expected to see Greasy to come flying out of the back, and Wheezy to follow, "Hey, Psycho? Do you know where Greasy and Wheezy are?"

The sudden tired and annoyed scowl pulling at the weasels' face and being too distracted to react to Smartass finally picking Lottie from his arms, should have told Poppy enough. That Greasy must have gotten into trouble again. And Wheezy either had to bail him out, or this was the rare example of when he decided to be part of the problem rather than the solution. But before either rabbit or weasel could say anything, her ears perked up, and her smile returned when she heard the very familiar wheezing voice approaching behind her, "M'right here, Pops."

"Oh! There you are. But what abou-"

...

The rabbits mind had gone completely blank. It felt like her brain had been smoothed over, and her heart was working overtime when her eyes landed on her tall friend. If it weren't for him speaking up before, she would have a hard time believing this weasel before her was Wheezy. Her nicotine riddled, dirty, addict friend. The smell of smoke still permeated him, but it was a little more subtle now, and it was accompanied by the smell of actual soap. There wasn't a trace of ash on the blue weasel, aside from his fingers, though it looked fresh from just today. The clothes he was currently wearing, which consisted of his usual dress shirt and tie, but with a leather jacket instead of just a vest (it was pretty cold in the house though so that could be forgiven) looked clean. As clean as they could belonging to a smoker at least. And his fur had been combed down as best as it could, no sign of tangles anywhere. Not to mention the bags under his eyes had improved too. Wheezy had managed to get some sleep!?

Who... How... How did he... When... This was Wheezy!? How could he just look like this? How could he look this good after a shower?? How could it be enough to make her face burn up!?!?

The poor rabbit toon looked like a deer caught in the headlights as she stared up at Wheezy. She just... Couldn't believe this was him! Though fortunately, the simple act of him raising his brow at her without a word was enough to knock her back to most of her sense (and made the cardigan she picked out today feel just a bit too much despite the cool January weather), allowing Poppy to blink back to the present and shake her head... Nope, Wheezy still looked too handsome. It wasn't a trick of the light. Poppy was so stunned, she had to clear her throat and subconsciously tuck a strand of hair behind her ear while directing her attention to the loose floorboard she was standing on, just to be able to even try to stutter out a response, "H... H-Hi..."

The flustered feelings and embarrassment only grew within her when she felt everyone's eyes on her. Especially Psycho's and Smartass'. She didn't need to look back up to know that she was being judged now- and she refused to look any of them in the eye. The only clue she got that Wheezy even heard her was the tired sigh she heard escape him (though she couldn't see the tiny, nearly unnoticeable amused tilt at the corner of his mouth), "Hey there, Poppy."

She awkwardly waved again before forcing her hand down when she remembered she had already greeted him. She could only bring herself to look back up when he finally directed his attention towards his neice. Just in time to see him smiling softly at a very confused looking Lottie in her agitated and judgmental fathers arms, "Heya, Chickedea."

"..." As any child her age, Lottie wasn't too subtle when she leaned into her father's ear and whispered a bit too loudly, while giving Wheezy the side eye, "Daddy, who's that?"

Wheezy's smile fell, and it looked like he wasn't sure to laugh or roll his eyes right alongside his boss. Poppy felt guilty and covered her lips to suppress her giggle, though Psycho just let out one of the biggest laughs she heard from him in some time. At least he wasn't giving her looks anymore. Lottie and Stupid both exchanged confused looks, though their puzzlment stemming from different places, "You don't recognize him, Lottie?"

"F'course she don't recognize Wheezy! Just look at 'im!" Smartass threw his free hand up in the air in exasperation, before pointing a threatening finger at the smoker- who just stared blankly right back, "Of all the days y'coulda cleaned yourself up, you picked the day my kid came home!?"

"Boss-"

"It's bad enough y'got Greasy and Poppy swinging over you, and now Lottie thinks we're shooting a cologne comercial!"

Wait, 'swinging'?? Her and Greasy? What? "I-I-I Uh..."

"Cologne?"

"It's the smelly stuff uncle Greasy pours on himself in the morning, sweetie."

"Oh!" Hearing the slightly annoyed- though mostly amused- tone behind her managed to knock the rabbit out of her head space and make her whirl around behind her. And feel guilty when she saw her dancer friend balancing all of Lotties' stuff in one arm. It wasn't much admittedly, just a couple of backpacks (Smartass could be such a mother hen sometimes. It was so sweet ^^), but Poppy couldn't help but cringe a little, "Sorry. I-"

"Got caught up with the cowboy, huh?" All it took was one glance towards the tall, exasperated weasel for Shiny to understand everything. And the knowing smirk and brow tilt she sent Poppy only made the poor toon feel worse, "Don't worry. I got you."

"Don't say that..."

Even though it was obvious Shiny didn't feel as charmed as her best friend was by Wheezy, the knowing wink she sent the smoker as she shut the door behind him and walked past them all to put away Lottie's bags was enough to make Wheezy wonder if he really did make the right choice today, "Lookin' good, Wheeze."

"Yeah, yeah. Greasy is upstairs, y'might wanna go talk to him."

'Aw, my boy went into hiding? Cute.' Instead of saying what she really thought, Shiny nodded and called out to everyone else, "I'll get lover boy to come down! Be back in a minute!" Before she disappeared up the steps.

Shiny was already giggling at the top of the stairs, being able to hear Smartass grumble at Poppy to 'get it together'. So the dancer was already feeling giddy and amused when she saw the green weasel in question step out of his bedroom. And it took everything in her to not cackle when he froze like a deer on the road seeing her, "Oh Greasy~~"

"Oh, jódeme..."

"You telling that to me, or Wheezy?~"

"No! No, don't you start that, hermosa!" Despite still carrying the little ones luggage, Shiny couldn't stop herself from bowling over and releasing the laugh she tried futility to hold in. And that only seemed to make the spaniard grow more huffy at his lady friend, "I mean it! El fumador could never-"

Somehow, not even she knew how, Shiny was able to control herself long enough to sigh and, with a triumphant grin, leaned into the wall besides Greasy's door and chose to burst his bubble right then and there, "Oh, cut the crap, will you honey? The little shrimp downstairs threw you under the bus."

...

"Ese pequeño bastardo va a pagar..." Another chortle, another glare from her green bean. Greasy, like the drama queen she loved to see, heaved out the most pathetic sigh she heard from him in a long time, and looked to her like he was some kind of victim, "Amore, Shiny, you choose to believe the boss over me?? You're best friend-"

"In this case, yes I would."

"Wha!?-"

"Now! You know exactly what's coming, chico~" Greasy's frown (his little pout as she saw it) tugged lower on his mug while Shiny's smirk grew, and her free, beautifully painted hand lifted up in an expectant manner, "The dough. Hand it over."

"You're an evil little witch, you know that?"

"C'mon, Greasy. No one likes a sore loser~"

As much as the weasel wanted to fight and keep his cash, he knew it was a hopeless battle; if he didn't give the money, Shiny would just swipe his wallet and take it for herself later like the little thief she was. So, with a grumble, Greasy just reached into his pocket, "You brought Wheezy into this. I know you did."

"Other than speaking the truth that el fumador had potential under all that grime?" The dancer snickered while watching Greasy count the bills very carefully- she had to, after their last bet, when he tried to fool her with monopoly cash tucked between the actual money.

Fortunately for Greasy, he was wise enough to know not to fool her when it came to her winnings by now, and gave her the full hundred dollars that she was owed. Still keeping her triumphant smirk, she tucked them all down her shirt (Greasy had no qualms reaching down into a woman's secret pocket, but she would be able to see him try to steal his money back there than if she tucked the cash in her back pocket), before walking past a still grumbling Greasy towards Lottie's room, "The others are waiting for you to start dinner, by the way."

"If you think I'm going to make those Traidores e idiotas food, you've got-"

"Lottie told Poppy and I she missed your cooking." Peeking her head out the bedroom doorway, Shiny offered the pervert her own 'heartbroken' expression; looking at him with big eyes, and tilting her head just the right way, "You're going to deny the baby girl the warm, homemade cooking she's been denied this entire week??"

Being reminded of what this day was meant to be about, Greasy shut his trap immediately. Although Shiny knew he still didn't want to go down there with the cologne commercial and the man who ratted on him, she also knew that he missed his neice just as much as everyone else here did. So she wasn't at all surprised when he just started making his way downstairs.

Chuckling and shaking her head, Shiny set the backpacks down on Charlotte's bed before following Greasy back downstairs, "What a softie he can be..."

~

I am SO sorry. This took so so so much longer than it needed to to be answered. Even with the moving 😖 I hope this was worth the wait, at least? Even if it doesn't have as much Lottie and Wheezy, or Greasy and Poppy huddled together in bisexual solidarity.

I'm really not too sure how this turned out. But it did feel good to finally have my inbox cleared out, and I didn't want to keep you waiting longer than you already have been.

[puppy-the-uncensored]

You know i'm in deep when I start thinking of Aus, so far I've got two for my newest obsession Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack

Or I guess one and a joke timeline/story idea

First up just... Prison. Yep. Why am I in jail with Jack worriedly hovering over my shoulder? Assault and battery >:3 Because if Ian had the Audacity to cheat and come back, my ass would end up in jail. I'd give him a warning to lose my number and get a life and if he ignored it Jack wouldn't even have to get involved. Sadly Ian is rich and I'm broke, so aside from being unabashedly guilty of beating a man in broad daylight his lawyers would no doubt be better lol. Famous last words- He deserved it

Now the meat of this post; The classic Swap au ✨w✨ now we're the ghost haunting the beloved rising star! The angst potential is way too delicious~! Joseph is stressed and doing his best with the Sunny Time Show becoming more popular when he finds a worn cassette tape from a band he's never heard of. After blacking out listening to it and having no memory of what it even sounded like he finds he now has a cute Spector following him around that's trying to talk him into taking care of himself off set... eh it's probably just the stress and lack of sleep getting to him is all.

I'll have to come up with a name for it aside from just 'swap' but I think that'll come as I workshop it. I think MC would be from a small garage band that was trying to make it big but their lead singer (or musician depending on if anyone wants to insert their own persona) was tragically killed in a back alley scuffle after one of their shows. To contrast Joseph I think they'd have had a very positive and optimistic outlook on their success and were excited to grow! They had tough times but had a support system. They just hadn't hit it big yet, the night of their death being their first and last big show, so the band is unfamiliar since it never truly got off the ground. Another thing is that the time difference between the two isn't gonna be massive like ours with Jack, just a couple years. This gives me the idea that Shaun and Ian could still be around from MC's past. Shaun as an old bandmate and maybe Ian could be their obsessive ex that accidentally maybe caused their death? If I add them to the story at all since this is meant to focus on Joseph and his life as part of the Sunny Time Crew. I could have nods to them in the background and keep them minor characters but meaningful. Shaun goes on to get into the movie industry like canon and maybe crosses paths with the studio, MC encouraging this and advocating for his talent. Ian's an actor so them also crossing paths for some kind of collab or just happening to be shooting at the same studio or location could lead to... unpleasant memories surfacing and MC's facade cracking a bit.

Again though the main focus is MC trying to get Joseph to acknowledge them. Since they aren't close they can't reach out or do anything to prove they're real. I can imagine it'd be frustrating and heartbreaking to have a chance to no longer be alone in your torturous afterlife, stuck in a cassette listening to your own songs drift through the void on loop even when you stop singing, only for the only person who can see you to act like you don't exist. He's following his own stardom, something you'd failed to achieve in your short life, and is simultaneously running himself ragged into an early grave. Everything is cold and you can feel your tether to the world just barely hanging on by your own spite and refusal to go back to being alone. After months of holding on by a literal thread, just a whisper away from being sent spiraling back into purgatory, anyone would be a shaken up and willing to do whatever it took to ensure they could stay- even if it meant seducing this asshole that's been ignoring them for months with an innocent saccharine smile. Of course, Nobody would expect to actually start falling for him, but hey- at least now you don't have to act when you're trying to flirt with him! And it's not like you didn't care about his wellbeing before then, you did! The threat of eternal torment by your own voice echoing out into oblivion for the rest of eternity just happens to be a better more traumatizing motivator! I don't plan on making MC a yandere, but they will have some similar tendencies to Jack since they're both in the same situation and traumatized to hell and back (literally). Mc is willing to be whatever Joseph wants or needs- whether that be a best friend, someone to help around the house, or more. So long as they're cared for and get to be a real person, at least to him, they're content (they may just have to get over some feelings first- but they'll be okay! Promise!)

Since Mc is connected to a cassette tape, there's no screen for them to show up on or reach through- so i'm imagining a scene zoomed in on Joseph's face as he's sitting back in a chair with some headphones on and listening to the tape as he reviews a script- only to feel his eyes drooping as a voice sings in his ears. In the background a fuzzy faded person twirls and sings behind him, eyes closed. As he starts to doze off they become more solid, the noise is coming from inside rather than his headphones.

Then with a *thunk!* his head hits the table and the Spector jumps- eyes opening. They're left alone in the shot looking over at him in concern and surprise. The song keeps playing and we see the tape spinning in the reel as off screen they ask if he's okay- only for him to be out cold and the tape stops. The 'ritual'(?) is complete and Joseph is now officially haunted by his new ghostly beau~

[myfaveisfuckable]

Rants under the read more

obi wan/grievous: Ok so this is a HUGE crackship and some people are not going to agree but like, Obi-Wan is what comes to mind when you think of the jedi and Grievous hates the jedi as a whole because he believes them to the cause of his mutilation and the suffering of his people, but the jedi are not the ones who did this. Grievous is a pawn in the game of the sith and he doesn't realize that his mind has been altered against his wishes or that he will be desposed of as soon as the war ends. Obi-Wan is a compassionate man and is able to consistently go toe to toe with Grievous, making him a rival Grievous can't help but respect in a weird way (his people are warriors, for all we know, fighting could be a method of flirting to his people yaknow? And obiwan genuienly flirts as a way to throw off his enemies, think of the comedic potential if Obi-Wan didnt realize how MUCH hes been a flirt or if Grevious acctualy gets flustered by it because obiwan is such a competent fighter and IF ONLY HE WASNT THE ENEMY-) If Obi-Wan knew what happened he would have tried to make amends and help his people, and if Grievous learned that it was Dooku (a former jedi turned sith) who turned him into a monster against his will, he'd probably be willing to team up with Obi-Wan to bring down Dooku and the Sith plans for Galactic domination to avenge and to protect his people, and they would be an absolute powerhouse since they are already familiar with eachothers way of fighting and from a writers point of view its filled with so much potential angst and drama, and hijinks, and even enhances the plot and creates parallels between the two that the franchise has never bothered to make and it has so much potential even if they don't fall in love they could be really good friends/partners/allies and if order 66 goes as planned they would be badass rebels its such an overlooked possible dynamic PLEASE 🥺

Sephitoph:

I made this one up as a joke but now i'm invested. ummm i'm just gonna c-p the rant I made on discord

ME:

they both have bright green eyes....

that's it, that's all i got ...

you probably won't like me for this, but i think it's funnier as a ship

SISTER:

...okay, explain 😂

ME:

er, not even funny, like i think they could make a good couple!

or at least an entertaining one

two ways you could take this, depending on whether you go w/ pre-breakdown Sephiroth, or post-breakdown, sadistic alien ghost who just wants to burn the world and torment cloud

for the latter, that's crackier but i'm just saying Toph is down w/ dramatic villainy and destruction

[insert: I AM MELON-LORD *maniacal laughter* gif]

(ok maybe not for real, but it would make a funny crack fic)

but pre-Nibelheim Seph (with the caveat that my understanding of his character is 90% from fanfic) he kinda personality of Zuko, circumstances of Azula

eh,,, ,that's not really on the mark

but anyways I know Zuko/Toph can be a great ship, i've seen it.

i think you'd could write a similar dynamic here

Sephiroth had his whole life laid out for him and he excelled at everything he was expected to do, but it's never been really about what he wants, like he's never really gotten to express himself. Or, like, develop a personality?? He's very isolated.

Toph also grew up very isolated, but she had kinda the opposite, where she utterly discarded the expectations people set for her (dressed up pretty helpless doll) and established her own person, wants, and goals very early on so they've got "coming from similar places but approaching things very differently", would lead to some very interesting interactions i think plus they're both down to work out emotional problems by sparring

[wanderingchocolateeclair]

Interdimensional Therapy AU

You already know what time it is~

Time to introduce ya'll to a new au! This time it is a joint au made by yours truly (me) and @laughteronsilverwings!!

I will be posting it in parts, like chapters on here about once or twice a week! (also fun fact...at the time of posting this post, we are just under 20k words on the docs............it has been like three days.)

Summary:

–

So, one day, Hakamada Tsunagu (almost-fifteen, vigilante, technically-kinda-terrorist but he’s moved past that) meets Hakamada Tsunagu (around twenty-one, hero, is being blackmailed by the HPSC but he’s trying to ignore that). 

They don’t meet with a bang, a whimper, or a shout- it’s actually weirdly, strangely calm. Not that Tsunagu cares. But Tsunagu -both of them- kind of have to give the slightest bit of fucks about this situation. Well. One of them does. Sort of? Eh, they’ll give it a few days to wear off before starting to worry.

-

Introduction and words from both of us, under the cut:

Here is the introduction!:

so, uh, italics is me (silver) and bold is eclair- writing the start of introductions feels very awkward lmao. anyways this is just… something me and eclair simultaneously spawned out of a throwaway comment in tumblr dms. i feel like thats something yall should know. zero planning is going into this, and if there is, it was on-the-spot. we are testing our improv skills! and writing this together! at the time of this introduction’s writing we have 14k words. it’s been two days. send help. the brainrot is very real and it is coming for us.

but anyways- here’s a little bit of background and information: the pov switches whenever there’s a little dash. like this. -. first it’s me, then eclair, and so on and so forth. this is just- well, i’d say jeanist on jeanist violence, but there’s no fight scenes yet, so… jeanist on jeanist kinda-sorta-maybe therapy?

i mean, this is called the interdimensional therapy au’ for a reason. but! back on topic. so basically my jeanist (will be referred to as s!jeanist, is 14-15 years old) and eclair’s jeanist (refered to as e!jeanist, around 20-22) both got hit by a quirk that yoinked both of them to e!jeanist’s place in paris. they are both from different universes. they have different backstories. they are different people, pulled from their place in the universe and into e!jeanist’s apartment…

…and then they just start talking because honestly this is an everyday thursday for both of them. mostly. kind of. s!jeanist is referred to as ‘arcane’ from e!jeanist’s pov. e!jeanist is referred to as ‘jean’ from s!jeanist’s pov. 

this is ALL the way self-indulgent and crack, just so you know. also kinda a character deep dive but lets not go into that. 

-

Well well well. ‘Tis me, Eclair, in bold! As all has already been said, this is a fun little self-indulgent crack au that honestly the brainrot has. Kinda. Taken over the entirety of brain already. Seriously, I have never written this much in such a short time span heheh….

Anyway- as it is quite literally named the Interdimensional Therapy AU, there may be some potentially triggering subjects that could pop up in the future, and I shall make sure to tag them and put up warnings before each part - please check the TWs before reading as always for your own safety and comfort!

No idea where this will go or how it’ll end up, but The Jeanists are here and they are going to have fun. Maybe. Kinda. Who knows what awaits them? I don’t think we do- but hey- if they don’t have fun, at least we will >:)

Oh. and at the time of finishing this introduction. We are now at just over 16k words. I think the brainrot is too strong…

-

we wrote our parts separately over the course of like, three, two hours? damm we might actually reach 20k today/tomorrow

oh yeah also these two are ‘divergent’ jeanists in the jean-multiverse. not alternate! theres a small difference lmao so it doesn’t matter, i am simply being Picky With Words

-

Please enjoy and look forward to it!! May we all try and find out how this will end up.

[isca-rambles]

5x21 Aaron you cutie please don't leave us. Tiny little Tim and Lucy moment there as they're on the wide/far shot. No, I'm not thirsty for even the tiniest of Chenford moments. You are.

Aaron, babe. You can't just put that on a table out in the open. At least find a room. How did you expect this to go? God Lucy is just constantly smiling when she's with Tim. And those soft little smiles Tim has for her and her jokes. Undercover loooove. The new Rookie spinoff we're getting, right? Right? Though honestly I don't want Tim and Lucy having their own spinoff. Keep them on the established show, just give them more time and stories and proper care. Spinoffs never go well, for the most part, and I don't want them being separated from their team and family. Lucy, you sunshine angel. Checking in on Tim. Their little smiles. God I can't. And the fact he's sat out there every day watching over her. Their little love notes to each other over the phone. I could see them just about coping with longer UC if he's allowed to be her handler. But Lucy just seems so disheartened on the longer ops. She needs the action. She's willing to put the work in, she knows it's not all action and saving the world, but it just eats away at her. Tim, my man, you are so obvious right there. Almost as obvious as your feelings for Lucy the past 5 seasons. Also, Michael Rooker. God I love Michael Rooker. I wouldn't hate seeing him come back in S7. Celina, my love, you don't need a dating app. I know this guy is coming back potentially in S7. Please don't let him be evil. Please let her be happy. I know there's murmurings he was meant to be part of this and it slipped through the cracks due to the strikes and shorter season, but pls no more trauma for Celina. JACKSON MENTION. Oh my god. I know they don't really mention Jackson by name but oh my god, I'm already tearing up. It took me a second to think which friend would've had Nolan carrying around dog treats, and then I remembered. Oh my heart.

The soft little hey, you know that's just for Tim. Grey looking straight to Tim when they mention the date. Tim's jaw clenching doing overtime during this entire conversation. Him watching her as long as he possibly can. Like anything other UC, eh? Laundry room might disagree. Look, I still don't think Nolan is the best TO, not yet, but I do love his relationship with Celina. God Tim is just far too tense this entire time. Maybe him being her handler isn't the best idea for his sanity. He'll be out of his mind with worry wherever he is, to be honest. But Lucy popping back up, making that brief second of eye contact because she knows he'll be worried. Her wanting to help the people in the restaurant. She needs to keep that part of her in all her UC covers, because it's not something she can just set aside. Whatever the reason she pretends to have for it, she can't turn off her need to help the vulnerable. I really wish they'd delved more into the fact that Tim let his guard down. S1 Tim wouldn't have let that guy get the drop on him. Terrified and in-love Tim did. They needed to address it more than just a throwaway comment. He didn't even clear the restaurant before turning his sirens on. Also you know Jan is the one who told Lucy about Tim nearly getting shot. Tim didn't put it in his report, maybe Jan did, but Jan 100% told Lucy. Lucy barely letting Teska drive away before calling Tim. 'I am now' Oh my god these two. The little shake in her voice in the laundry room. The shake in Tim's. His soft eyes. 'Knowing and feeling okay are two different things'. See, why did they drop this in S6?! I know Lucy was spiralling hard in S6 and deflecting her fears and uncertainty onto Tim, but she knew in this episode that him supporting her doing UC and feeling okay about it/wanting her to do it are two different things. Agh. They're both so scared and shaken and she can't let him leave without grounding each other. Good lord they might not have given us many intimate moments between them on screen (and I don't really mind that much, tbf. It's not that type of show. We don't need sex scenes every 5 seconds) but the implications. Goodness. Okay, that's such a cute fucking dog though. Scott please don't be evil. Please. The last time a guy on this show used a dog to entice one of our sunshine babies into a date, it was Caleb. Don't do this to us again in S7. Please. Aaron you fucking cutie WHY ARE YOU LEAVING US I really hope Aaron does make detective. Even if it's just an off-hand comment. I'll be bitter if he makes it before Lucy, I mean I don't think he could test for it before Lucy can a second time anyway, right? But I guess if he moves stations then he might be able to. I want him to succeed but can you imagine how much it'd crush Lucy that someone who's been a P2 shorter than her gets to detective first. She'd be happy for him, but it would crush her. Maybe once she makes detective or another position, we can hear about him making it too. Are police scanner apps a real thing? That seems dangerous, if so. I know there are ways of hacking into radio frequencies but apps? Lucy just has a way of getting anyone to open up to her. My sweet angel. I really do think Frank could be a good villain to come back. Or a potential CI/ally. Tim, you are in public, sir! Those little smiles. Angela, our other queen. So many queens on this show. Ey, new serial killer. I don't actually know if this case comes back in S6. I hope it does. Uuuugh. How he can cover her hands with one of his. The look he gives her. Jan is in so much trouble for telling Lucy. Sorry fam. And god, the issues bubbling. I need these two to go to couples counselling. Please. Just a mention of it in S7 when theyr'e back together. Oh god I love their hugs so much. They just sink so completely into one another.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello! I read your headcanons of how Azul, Riddle, Malleus, Epel and Silver would try to court Reader and I wonder if you could do the same, with Ruggie, Jack, Jade, Floyd and Sebek?

“Courting...that’s serious business. Once you pick a mate--and that mate chooses you, you’re together forever, so you can afford to be choosy. What, me? Hmph. That’s not something I need to be concerned with right now.”

If you want to read the same prompt but for Azul, Riddle, Malleus, Epel, and Silver, check those out here.

***Warning: mild spoilers for chapter 5 and Ace’s Groom For A Day personal story (part 2)!***

Curiouser and Curiouser...

He plucks little dandelion bouquets for you! Regularly, Ruggie would eat them in a salad or a stir fry, but he’s willing to sacrifice a few dandelions just to see you smile.

If you ever need anything done, Ruggie’s the first to jump and offer to help you out. He’s already used to running errands for Leona-san, so he insists that it’s no trouble at all to also run errands for you!

Ruggie picks up a few extra odd jobs (at the Mostro Lounge and Mr. S’s shop!) and saves up Madol to buy you small trinkets.

He plays his heart out in Magical Shift! He’ll play even harder if you mention coming to one of his games. Watch Ruggie pull off a bunch of cool tricks he taught himself while he plays--look, look, let’s upside down on his broom! Neat, right?

Cracks lots of jokes! Ruggie loves talking casually and being able to make you giggle. Please laugh more and more with him.

He’s still pretty curt when it come to speaking with you, but he makes sure to smile more. And his tail? It’s always instinctively wagging when he’s around you.

Jack will spend more time with you! He’ll find himself offering to walk you and from class. When you finally get to your destination, Jack tends to linger like a lovesick puppy until you vanish from his sight.

He’ll show you his cactus children! O-Only if you want to see, of course. Jack beams with pride as he tells you about each one. Hopefully you find them as interesting as he does!

Jack will play to his strengths! Need help with your textbooks or moving something heavy? Jack’s your guy. He already excels in  P.E., too--whenever Jack pulls off an impressive physical feat, his head will whip in your direction to gauge your reaction.

If letting you touch his ears and tail is what will get your attention, then so be it. Jack will allow it--even has he stiffens and blushes a bit at your touch. He wouldn’t mind doing this every day, you know...

Expect nothing but honeyed words from Jade. He has a silver tongue, and he knows it, that bastard. He’ll use that to his advantage to make you blush and squirm.

Along with sweet words, Jade will always “accidentally” touch you, be it brushing his fingers against yours when you’re reaching for the same book, or bumping into you at just the right moment to send your papers flying. Oh dear--let him help you with that. It’s not as though he had this orchestrated from the start, fufu.

He’ll cook for you! Not in the Mostro Lounge--he insists on a more...private setting. Perhaps your place--or his? Jade promises he will prepare an extravagant meal for two.

Jade will send you flowers--nothing too extravagant, just a few of them here and there, straight from the Botanical Gardens. Other times, he’ll send mushrooms. He cultivated them himself--isn’t he so caring?

You can always rely on him to be a shoulder to cry on. Jade offers soothing words and wipes away your tears with a gentle smile. You’re playing right into his hands. Ah, but it feels so sweet and comforting that you just let yourself fall into the abyss of his love.

Floyd straight up says that he “loves you” every single day. He makes sure to remind you plenty, too--he somehow always manages to sneak the phrase into conversations.

Demands praise! Like, allll the time! Look, look! He just squeezed this naughty runaway guppy of Azul’s! Didn’t he do suuuch a good job? Give him compliments and head pats now!

Glomps you without warning. He’ll lurk around corners and attack you when you least expect it--like some shark charging at you in the water. It’s going to be hard to shake him off--Floyd hangs all over, pressing his weight against you and nearly causing you to topple over!

If he’s in the mood to see you, he’ll drop whatever he’s doing (be it class or his shift at the Mostro Lounge) and come seek you out! Eh? What do you mean you don’t have time to hang out right now? That’s okay. Floyd will just toss you over his shoulder and haul you off to play anyway.

He’s not tactful at all in his “courting” (if you can even call it that). Floyd tries to monopolize all of your time, and he gets whiny if he thinks you’re paying too much attention to other stuff! If you question him about it, he’ll be extra cheeky and ask, “Eeeeh? I thought we were pretty much already dating~”

Sebek tries to court you by using Lilia’s outdated dating advice. That means he’s going to send you letters--and several of them. Each one seems to be longer than the last, and every three letters, he’s sure to include a photograph of him smiling in it.

Tones down all of his shouting about Malleus-sama. While Sebek continues to devote his life and body to the Young Master, he is aware that a potential partner would not enjoy having their ear talked off about some other man. Sebek wants to make himself come across as agreeable and available!

He generally has a better control over his volume! If he talks too loudly, that might frighten you--though he also (unintentionally) laughs harder and louder when he’s with you, flashing his little fangs as the while.

He fusses over you! If you look the slightest bit tired, Sebek will swoop in with a cup of tea or the offer of assisting you with your schoolwork to lighten your load and send you off to bed sooner.

Sebek invites you to read with him. He has a selection of novels that you can borrow, and you can even discuss them with him if you like. He’s able to give recommendations if there’s nothing in his collection that catches your eye. If you’d like, he can be a part of your story.

[five-rivers]

Pennywort and Swallowtails

For @phantomphangphucker :)

Prompt:  Flynn, due to being Phantom’s aka the Ghost King’s family and part of the Zone’s society, receives a Prince title and is now getting crowned.

.

Flynn couldn’t put his finger on exactly why, but the Ghost Zone seemed different lately.  There was something in the atmosphere, almost.  It felt… lighter, maybe?  

He didn’t like it.  

After all these years in the Ghost Zone, he’d come to regard any change from the norm with suspicion.  The tendency had saved his life multiple times.  Usually, such changes were caused by a nearby and powerful ghost.  Or, on rare and terrifying occasions, a not so nearby and obscenely powerful ghost.

For example, that Pariah Dark guy he’d heard about from some of the ghosts he traded with.  Flynn sure was glad someone else had taken care of him.  Not that Flynn was much good in a fight against any ghost more powerful than that annoying one in overalls that showed up whenever Flynn so much as thought of making anything even vaguely box-shaped.

Which wasn’t that often.  Flynn had never really nailed the whole carpentry thing. Ha.  He’d never been super great at the whole square thing either. Because he wasn’t one.  Skipped school and everything.  The whole high school experience.  Ha.  

Sometimes he really cracked himself up, but only in the most depressing of ways.  

He sighed, heavily.  Maybe he should think about spending more time in his hideaway cave, under his cottage (aka his shack, it was a shack, who was he kidding).  Stock up on supplies.  Get ready to weather a storm.  Literal or metaphorical.  

But hiding out in the cave was so boring.  There wasn’t anything to do down there. Except try to design better grass shoes and to patch his increasingly ragged clothing with limited amounts of thread. He preferred being outside greatly. Even if it was just on his little floating island, messing around in his little garden, growing potatoes and blood blossoms, digging for those crystals ghosts seemed to fear and desire in equal measure.

Flynn was peripherally aware that he was supplying the ghosts he traded with the equivalent of ghost uranium (one of the few human-world things he’d picked up was a middle school science textbook), but…

Yeah.  Guy had to eat, and the Ghost Zone didn’t exactly have cops running all over the place, or the United Nations, or… yeah.  Honestly, the Ghost Zone didn’t have much of anything, at least not in these parts.  It was pretty empty around here.  

Just like Flynn’s heart.  

Ha.  

Yeah.  That was a good one.  

Eh.  Life wasn’t so bad.  He was sort-of-kind-of friends with half a dozen undead monsters of questionable morality, had his own house, most of his teeth, and copious free time.  Plus, it had been a while since the ‘rocks from nowhere’ decided to trash his roof.  Which was bad for the sport he had invented (Chucking Rocks into the Misty Void), but good for roof integrity.  And not having a concussion.  Or losing any more teeth.  

But, back to his original topic.  

Flynn glared absently at the Zone at large. Okay, yeah, something was going on. Was it Flynn’s problem? Maybe.  Was it directly Flynn’s problem?  No.  The day was otherwise clear and ‘normal’ (the term being used loosely in the Ghost Zone), so he might as well go about his day—

The sky tore open in front of him.  

Flynn recognized that.  Before he knew what he was doing, he threw himself away from the portal. The last time he’d stepped through one of those—

The thought crossed his mind that this portal might lead back to Earth, back home, back to Mom.  But he knew from his ghostly friends how unlikely it was that the portal would put him anywhere near his home physically, not to mention temporally. It might not even lead back to Earth for that matter.  

He took cover behind a boulder, cursing his blasé dismissal of potential danger.  Who knew what could come out of a portal?  At least according to the ghosts he talked to.  Hopefully, nothing came out that he couldn’t beat into submission with his ectoranium staff.  

This was going to suck so much.  

The portal disgorged three floating eyeball ghosts in voluminous robes.

(One of the other books Flynn had gotten his hands on was a dictionary.  Which he had read.  Twice. Living on a tiny floating island was boring when it wasn’t terrifying.)

Ah, heck.  He could take one ghost.  Three? Yeah.  Not a chance.  

Maybe they’d leave?  They couldn’t know for sure he was here.  With how unpredictable portals were, and all.

“Flynn Walker,” intoned the central eyeball ghost with a great deal of gravitas.  

Flynn’s body did something between a cringe and a blanch.  

He was never trusting Globithar the Lapidarist’s tall tales ever again.  He wasn’t going to give him any more discounts for them, either.  No way to control a portal his scarred left butt cheek.  

“Flynn Walker,” repeated the eyeball ghost, now with a touch of annoyance.  

“In accordance with the laws of the Infinite Realms,” said the leftmost ghost, in a higher-pitched voice, “we call you to take up your position in the Court of the King of All Ghosts as a member of his family.”

Ah, that ectocontamination Aunt Maddie had sometimes talked about had finally caught up with him, and he was hallucinating something fierce. Either that, or these ghosts thought unbelievable jokes were good bait.  They weren’t.  Flynn would know.  He’d made many unbelievable jokes.  They’d never attracted anything but groans.  

Ha.  

“This is ridiculous,” hissed the third ghost.  “He isn’t even a real ghost.”

“He’s more ghostly than Phantom’s sister,” said the second.  

“We don’t have any choice about her, though.  Can’t we simply… not tell Phantom about this Flynn? Especially if this cousin of his is so craven as to hide at a moment like this.”

Rude, but accurate.  

“He’ll find out,” said the first eyeball, tiredly. “He always finds out.  Damn Clockwork.”

This was officially too weird for Flynn.  Why were they cursing out clocks?

“Because they’re petty and don’t have anything better to do.”

Flynn may or may not have shrieked like a little girl at the voice behind him.  The uncertainty was mostly because Flynn hadn’t seen or heard a little girl since he was in the vicinity of his cousin, Jazz, which was years ago.  At least a decade.  

But he did scream.  Loudly.  Which he really should know better than to do, living in the Ghost Zone and all.  He brought his staff up defensively, too, though, so his self-preservation skills hadn’t completely shorted out.

“Clockwork!” chorused the eyeball ghosts.  

“Yes, yes,” said the ghost who’d snuck up on Flynn, flicking imaginary dust off his robe as he smoothly, and dizzyingly, shifted between ages.  “I’m sure you’re all very shocked that I’m here, after you just finished complaining about how much I know.”  He examined his fingernails.  “Now, Mr. Walker—”

“Walker?” shrieked one of the eyeballs.  

“Yes, he is related to our illustrious sheriff. As I was saying, I am here to bring you to your cousins, who have risen quite a bit in this world.”

“What.”

“It is, indeed, rather surprising,” said Clockwork. “To those who cannot see the twists and turns of fate.  Or those who are willfully blind to those twists and turns.”  He eyed the eyeballs.  

“What,” repeated Flynn, more forcefully.  

“Clockwork,” growled the lead eyeball.  

“Allow me to explain,” said Clockwork.  “Do you recall your youngest cousin, Daniel?”

“Uh,” said Flynn.  He adjusted his grip on his staff.  “Vaguely?”

“He was crowned King of All Ghosts a few weeks ago. As a member of his family and an active participant in ghost society, you are automatically a member of the court. Assuming you wish to be, of course.”

“You- You’re saying I have family here.”

“Indeed.”

“Like, Aunt Maddie?”

Something odd passed over Clockwork’s face.  “No.  Your cousins. Daniel, specifically.”

“Wait, wait, he was a baby.  Wouldn’t he only be, like, ten or something?”

“Fifteen,” corrected Clockwork.  

“How did he die?”

“You will have to ask him that,” said Clockwork.  He raised an eyebrow.  “If you would like, you can sleep on this and I will return tomorrow.”

Flynn bit his lip.  Hard.  Okay. He wasn’t dreaming.  And- And this ghost didn’t seem to be lying. What would the point of that even be, anyway?  Flynn was nothing.  He didn’t have anything they could possibly gain by lying like this.  

“I’ll go with you,” said Flynn.  

“Excellent,” said Clockwork, clapping his hands.  “Then let us away to the castle.”

.

Well.  That was certainly a castle.  Or a palace? Flynn wasn’t sure of the difference. The ghosts hadn’t lied about that, at least.  

It was a big step up from Flynn’s house.  Which, honestly, more deserved the title of hovel. Or perhaps shack.  

Or even hole, when compared to all this.  Dear god, this place was fancy.  

Flynn hunched his shoulders, feeling out of place even as Clockwork led him deeper into the massive edifice.  

Come on, Flynn, he thought furiously at himself. Some of these people aren’t even wearing skin.  You are not underdressed.  

Clockwork brought him to a normally sized (which was, incidentally, not a given in this place, which contained both huge and tiny doors) door with understated but elegant carvings.  “Here are your rooms,” said the ghost.  “You will find a selection of clothing in your size in the wardrobe, and the bathroom is fully stocked and human safe.”

“Human safe?”

“Human safe.”

That was ominous.  

“There is a bell in the room that will summon a servant should you need one.  I will collect you for dinner in three hours.  Long enough for you to relax, I should hope.”

Or long enough for him to worry himself into pieces and chew on their curtains.  

… There would be curtains, right?  This place had to be fancy enough to rate curtains.  

He opened the door.  

Lots of curtains.  Lovely.

No, really.  It had been so, so long since he’d seen curtains.  He might be crying.  

Oh, gosh, that bed looked so nice and soft.  He wanted to—

Wait, no, he was filthy.  Filthy.  Covered in years’ worth of grime.  He hadn’t had a proper bath since he’d still been living with his mom.  

Pathetic, right?

There was a human-safe bathroom in here somewhere. Beyond the snark, he was looking forward to having a human-safe bath.  He was craving a human-safe bath.  With clean water and soap.  

Could the bathroom also have toothbrushes?  Toothpaste?  Unrestrained luxury.  

The bathroom door was in the same style as the outer door, but the handle was different, lighter.  The inside was tiled and surprisingly modern.  

There was a sink.  

He played with the sink faucet for several long minutes before remembering that he’d come in to take a bath.  

He spent several minutes playing with the bathtub faucet.  

Then he got into the bathtub and experienced a half hour of combined panic (he didn’t really know how baths worked anymore, and the sensations were weird) and nirvana (the sensations were also good).

He had to keep cycling the water.  Because he made it so, so dirty.  He sank into the water, up to his chin.  

When he got out of the water, he decided his hair was a lost cause.  Because it was always a lost cause.  Only, it was even more of a lost cause now, because it was also wet and had been stripped of its usual protective layer of oils.  

There was a variety of toothbrushes and toothpastes available.  He tested them out and discovered that he would probably need the services of a dentist. A good one.  Were there ghost dentists?  There had to be ghost dentists.  They had a lot of teeth.  A lot of teeth.  Sharp, scary, teeth.  

Ugh.  His baby cousin was a ghost.  He’d probably have teeth like a shark.  When he’d last seen him, he’d hardly even had any teeth at all.  Because.  Baby. Little, tiny, baby.  

Who Flynn barely knew.  

Why did he even want Flynn?  Or was it just some weird ghost tradition thing?  

Ghosts were weird.  Anything could be possible.  

He flopped face-first onto the bed.  His bed?  His temporary and maybe permanent bed.  If he was allowed to stay here.  

Oh, gosh.  Clockwork and the eyeballs seemed to know how to make portals.  Could they make a portal back to the human world? To Earth?  

To Flynn’s proper time?

To Mom?  

He missed Mom so much, even after all this time.  

(Dad?  Not so much. He hardly remembered the man.)

He wouldn’t know until he asked, he supposed.  But asking maybe-royalty would be scary. Talking to all these powerful ghosts was scary enough by itself.  

Ehhhh, he thought he’d gotten rid of his more cowardly side by now.  He was living in the scariest place out of the world.  

Ha.  

Yeah.  

He crawled out of the bed, dragging his nice, clean self to the wardrobe.  Oh, boy. Many clothes.  He hadn’t even seen so many clothes since the last time he’d been in department store.  Incredible.  

They were so fancy, too.  He didn’t know how to choose.  

He didn’t even know how to wear half of these things. At least half of them.  

He began to tease lengths of fabric from the wardrobe and lay them on his bed.  Some of them looked cool.  And also the kind of thing that he’d destroy just by touching it.  

Except he had already touched them, and they hadn’t been destroyed yet.  Yet.

Oh, cool, there was underwear.  Wow.  It had been a while.  

.

Okay.  The bed was incredibly nice, but somehow too nice.  Like, no nap nice.  

He wanted to take a nap.  

But no nap was occurring.  

The bed was too soft.  Ugh.  This was like the thing in that one war novel he’d read when he was probably way too young to read it.  

He groaned.  He hadn’t thought that was real.  He’d thought it was an exaggeration, or just drama.  Or something.  

He crawled off onto the floor and the wonderfully plush carpet.  

Maybe he could sleep here.  

.

He woke up to a faint knocking sound and rolled sideways under cover.  What cover? Oh.  Bed.  That was the bed.  He was in the room.  In the castle.  The ghost king’s castle.  

His baby cousin’s castle.  

He was going to cry.  This was so weird.  

Embarrassed, he rolled back out from under the bed and threw on the first clothes that came to hand.  Which.  Might not have been the best of ideas.  But, hey, he was dressed now.  

He stumbled over to the door and spent several long, embarrassing seconds sleepily remembering how to open doors with this type of handle.  Eventually, though, he managed it.

Clockwork was standing there.  One of his eyebrows went up.  “Interesting choice.”

Flynn looked down.  Orange and green went fine together.  What was he talking about?  

Forget it, he wasn’t about to develop a sense of social shame after living in a hut for a decade or so.  

“Come, now.  Your cousins are expecting you.”

Flynn briefly considered ducking out, phasing through the floor and out of the castle using a tangibility trick he’d picked up a couple of years back.  At least, that would spare him from this ‘diner’ he was rapidly approaching.  

He decided not to do that.  Running away wasn’t his style.  

(Who was he kidding?  That was definitely his style.  He would have run away so, so much if he had anywhere to run to.)

(It wasn’t like he could exactly fight ghosts on even footing.  Each and every one of them had Martian Manhunter’s powerset.)

“Don’t be afraid, Flynn,” said Clockwork, looking back over his shoulder.  

“Do you, like, read minds?”

Clockwork chuckled.  “Only the future.”  He swung the large, gilded door open.  

Inside, there was a long table, set with silvery plates.  There were a small group of children beyond it.  One of them waved at him.  Was that Danny?

Flynn took a deep breath and walked forward, back to his family.