#just a weird thing to try to complain about

[y3sterdaysproblem]

smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo

chapter three

summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you can’t stand each other.

{enemies to lovers, fake dating}

includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn

tw: slight body issues in this chapter.

wc: 3.2k

-

The wedding was in a week and you found yourself out shopping with the triplets trying to find Chris a tie that would match your dress, which was just a simple, deep red, slim fitting, sleeveless dress. It was sexy and flattering, but nowhere near enough to draw attention from the bride or bridal party.

You had been shopping for a while, mostly goofing off, but now you guys had made it to Men’s Warehouse and were actually looking for what you needed. You carried around a swatch of your dress color so you could find something as close as possible, holding it up to every dark red tie you found, but nothing was to your liking just yet.

“How about this one?” Chris asks, holding another one up, and you walk over and hold up your swatch, shaking your head. “Too bright,” you say, to which he groans.

“We’ve looked at like twenty different ties, one of these has to match,” he complains, putting the tie back.

“The perfect match is out there, I know it is. We just have to keep looking,” you tell him, still perusing the array of options throughout the store.

Matt and Nick followed behind you guys, chit chatting with each other while you and Chris bickered over whether or not the reds matched, which they obviously didn’t.

“Haven’t you ever seen those pictures on the internet?” You ask Chris.

He raises an eyebrow, looking down at you. “Very descriptive, I definitely have,” he replies sarcastically.

You roll your eyes. “You know, the ones where girls ask their boyfriend if they can tell the difference between two really similar nail polishes? Most of them can’t tell the difference, but women can! So when you say that these ties are ‘close enough’, they’re just not. It has to be perfect, these pictures are going to be around forever, and as much as I wish you weren’t in the pictures, I at least want to make sure we look good.”

“Stop comparing me to a boyfriend, dude, it’s getting weird,” Chris shudders at the thought and you just shake your head, knowing that he wasn’t listening to a damn thing you were saying and is just trying to rush through this store. “How about this one?”

Chris holds up a tie for you to look at, and you hold your swatch up to it, instantly beaming up at him. “It’s perfect!” You tell him, bouncing on your toes in excitement. “See? Don’t you see how well that matches?”

He looks down at the two colors pressed together and reluctantly nods. “Yeah, that looks pretty good,” he agrees.

“Great!” You smile, grabbing the tie from his hands. “Now we buy this and we’re all done.”

Chris lets out a sigh of relief and turns to his brothers, ready to be done conversing with you for the time being. He makes eye contact with Matt who smiles at him and mouths the words ‘help me’ while pointing towards your frame that happily skipped up to the register.

Matt laughed and patted Chris on the shoulder. “You agreed to it,” he tells him.

Back at the triplets house, you’re all crowded in Nick’s room, your dress laid out on his bed and Chris’s suit laid right next to it. “You put yours on first,” you tell him.

You wanted to see how you guys looked together before the actual day of the wedding, so you decided to try everything on now that you guys were both home and had corresponding outfits. You had brought your dress over earlier before you went shopping so that it was ready for you when you guys got back home.

Chris picks up his suit from the bed and walks into Nick’s bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

“How are you handling being Chris’s girlfriend?” Nick asks curiously, waggling his eyebrows at you.

You just laugh. “It’s not that bad, we just take pictures together every so often, but it’s just pictures. As much as I hate it I just have to remind myself that he’s giving me a date to a wedding so I don’t have to hear everyone asking me why I don’t have a boyfriend. A couple pictures in return for a night of silence sounds like a win to me.”

Nick and Matt chuckle, still shocked that you guys agreed to help each other in such an intimate way, considering your history.

“Why do I have a feeling you guys are going to fall in love?” Nick teases, but you just scoff at him.

“Yeah, right. I’d rather date you,” you smirk at Nick and make a kissy face towards him, leaning in like you were going to kiss him.

Nick cringes and puts his hand in your face, pushing you away as you guys hear the door open, Chris walking out in his suit, his tie in his hand.

“I, uh, don’t know how to tie this,” he says shyly, holding it out, clearly embarrassed.

You look around at his brothers and see them both looking just as clueless as Chris did. “Seriously?” You ask them.

“Our mom or dad always did it for school dances,” Matt tells you. “Never really worn a tie other than that.”

You huff and stand up off the bed, walking over to Chris, snatching the new tie out of his hands. “You guys are helpless,” you mumble, starting to situate the tie around his neck.

“‘M not helpless,” Chris says lowly, his voice slightly pouty.

“Oh, of course not,” you reply, looking up at him. “You’re just a twenty one year old boy that doesn’t know how to tie a tie, or fill out forms, or make a restaurant reservation…” you trail off.

“The fuck? I made a reservation for you and Matt tomorrow,” he argues.

“Tomorrow?” Matt whips his head around to look at his brother.

“Yeah?” Chris responds, looking at Matt over your head. “I told you I’d book it and then let you know when it was.”

“You didn’t think to ask first? Chris, I have plans,” Matt groans.

Chris’s eyes widen. “What fucking plans?! You never go anywhere.”

“I have an actual date tomorrow, I can’t make that. You should’ve told me when it was first or asked when I was free,” Matt tells him, finality clear in his voice.

“Kid, I had to put fucking a deposit down for this place, it’s non refundable. You need to go. Just reschedule your date.” Chris tells him.

Matt shakes his head, looking at Chris seriously. “No, dude, I’m not rescheduling. You should’ve asked.”

Chris groans and throws his head back, currently hating his life. You finish up with the tie and reach up to brush off Chris’s shoulders, then swipe your hands down his arms quickly before backing away. “Done,” you tell him, admiring your work. “You know, you could just suck it up and grab dinner with me. I’m not the worst person to be around.”

Chris turns around and goes back in the mirror to look at himself, shrugging a bit. “I’d prefer not to, but I also don’t want to lose my deposit.” He walks back out of the bathroom and past you, going to sit on the bed. “Alright, try your dress on now so I can take this off.”

You nod and grab your dress before walking into the bathroom, shutting the door after you. You slip off all of your clothes and step into your dress, pulling the straps over your shoulders. It fits well, and when you bought the dress a couple of months ago, you fell in love with it and the way it looked on your body, but now as you stare in the mirror, pulling the sides tight against your waist as the zipper was still down in the back, you couldn’t help but focus on all the imperfections staring back at you in the mirror. It almost makes you fully take the dress off and call it a day, figuring you’ll just put it on the day of the wedding and suck it up, but you would feel too bad making Chris get dressed up just to back out.

You’ve never explicitly told any of the triplets about any of your insecurities, just threw a few self deprecating comments out there like people normally do, and for the most part you were a confident person, but everyone had their days, and today was just one of those days.

You reach back and try to pull the zipper up, but you’re only able to zip it about halfway up on your own, so you slip back into your happy demeanor before you open the door and walk out, smiling at the three boys staring back at you. “Can one of you zip me up?” You ask.

Chris stands up from the bed and walks towards you. You’re shocked to see him volunteering without being coerced into it, but say nothing, afraid to startle him back to his senses. You just turn around and move your hair off your back, pulling it over your shoulder and he reaches out, grabbing the zipper and pulling it all the way up. “Good,” he tells you, and you turn back around to face him again.

“How do I look?” You ask the room, smiling wide and putting your hands on your hips dramatically. Chris moves out of the way so his brothers can see you, but keeps his eyes on your body.

“The same as you always look,” he retorts bluntly.

“You look hot,” Nick nods his head enthusiastically in approval.

“What Nick said,” Matt says in agreement. “I’m kind of sad I can’t make it now.”

You giggle at Matt’s words, feeling your ears heat up a little bit. You didn’t necessarily have a crush on Matt, but you couldn’t ignore the fact that he was attractive and his words did have a little bit of an effect on you.

“Thanks, guys. Come here, Chris, I want to look at us in the mirror.” You tell him and walk back into the bathroom where he follows you.

You both stand in the mirror together, looking at your outfits. You scrunch your eyebrows together and brush your hands over your dress, trying to pull it in a couple different directions to make it look more flattering on your body.

“What are you doing?” Chris asks you, watching you through the mirror as you play with your dress.

“Trying to fix the dress,” you mumble, sucking in a little bit as you turn to the side to stare at your reflection from another angle. “I think I gained a little weight and I just.. don’t really like how this is looking.”

Chris turns to look at you instead of your reflection, seeing how distraught you actually looked by the sight of your body in the dress.

“There’s nothing to fix, the dress is fine.” Chris is clearly uncomfortable at the way you’re speaking, but has no idea how to manage the situation. It was bad enough that he wasn’t good at dealing with other peoples’ emotions, but you two also weren’t close, so his urge to run away was even stronger than normal.

“It’s not the dress, I just…” your voice falters, eyes still glued to your body in the mirror. “I look bad.”

“Stop it,” he tells you, reaching out to turn your body towards his. You turn and look up to meet his eyes, your own starting to well with tears. “Why are you crying?”

You sniffle and shrug your shoulders, unable to speak in fear of your voice giving out on you.

He reaches behind himself and shuts the door, blocking his two brothers from earshot of you guys. “Why are you crying?” He asks you again, more firm this time.

You look down at the ground, sucking in a deep breath. “I’m just upset at how I look,” you tell him, voice high pitched and squeaky. “I really liked this dress when I got it but… I don’t know how I feel now.”

Chris sighs and reaches forward, placing a finger under your chin so he could tilt up your head. “Stop crying,” he tells you. “You look really good in that dress. Your body is incredible and you know it, that’s why you always walk around my house in your little booty shorts and a sports bra, isn’t it?”

You cough out a laugh and reach up to wipe a couple tears that fell down your cheek. “Not really, I’m just really comfortable around you guys. Even you wouldn’t think to comment on my body. You’re dumb but you’re not that dumb.”

Chris rolls his eyes at you and shakes his head. “Well, I’m commenting on it and I’m telling you that you look fine. Girls would kill to look like you. Once you do your hair and your makeup and shave your legs or whatever girls do you’ll feel way better about how you look. So, sort yourself out, change back into your clothes and go cuddle with my brothers or whatever weird shit you do with them.”

You smile and nod, the tears subsiding almost completely as he speaks. “Okay,” you mutter. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Chris replies. “Seriously. Ever. I don’t ever want anyone knowing I… comforted you.”

You giggle at his words and watch as he turns to leave the bathroom before you try and stop him.

“Wait, Chris,” you touch his shoulder and he turns around, looking at you confusedly. “I need you to unzip me.”

“Oh,” Chris starts, moving his feet to come back to you. You turn around and place your hands over your breasts to hold the dress in place once it’s unzipped and he reaches up to unzip it down to your lower back, the small spaghetti straps falling off of your shoulders as he does so. “There you go.”

You turn back around to face him, still holding the dress. His eyes couldn’t help but wander, taking one last look at your body, so close to being completely naked in front of him. All you had to do was let go and the dress would fall to the floor-

“I said thanks,” you say loudly and Chris clears his throat, looking back up to your eyes. He doesn’t respond, just leaves the bathroom and shuts the door, not even speaking to his brothers before he leaves Nick’s room and heads towards his own.

You turn back to the mirror and drop the dress, staring at yourself a few minutes longer, and the more you stand there, the more you feel your mood shifting, and what started as a judgmental and negative stare slowly turns into you checking yourself out, posing for yourself almost completely naked apart from your underwear. You hum to yourself and send a wink towards your reflection before getting dressed again, walking into Nick’s room.

Right now you wore sweatpants and a loose crop top with the collar cut out so it hung off your shoulders, but you strutted over to Nick’s dresser where you had some clothes you had left and he had so graciously washed for you, digging out a pair of old Nike pros and a sports bra, turning around and smirking at the boys that watched you from the bed, eyes wide.

“What… happened in there?” Nick asks, scared for the answer.

You just giggle and rip your shirt over your shoulders in front of both boys, causing Matt to gasp and cover his eyes with his fingers, though he might’ve kept a small slit between his pointer and middle finger, who knows, whereas Nick’s eyes just got even wider, his eyes trailing over your body as you pulled the sports bra over your head, changing your bottom half next until you were fully changed, letting Matt know he was okay to look.

“I know you’re my best friend but I am still only a man,” Matt tells you, not so subtly checking you out, which only boosted your confidence more. Maybe you were searching for validation in the wrong people, but fuck it you needed it right now and if Matt and god forbid Chris were going to be the men that made you feel like they were going to melt at the sight of you then so be it.

“It’s like window shopping,” you tell Matt with a grin. “You can admire but you can’t touch.”

Matt couldn’t help his cheeks turning slightly darker at your words. “Sure…” he replies, definitely not sure.

“Anyway,” you start, clapping your hands together. “You guys hungry? I’m in the mood to cook.”

-

You had scrounged up what you could in the triplets’ kitchen and ended up cooking them some basic pasta, throwing all the boys’ portions onto a plate along with your own, putting everything on the table, calling Matt and Nick to the table who sat on their couch waiting patiently for dinner to be ready.

“I’m gonna get your brother,” you tell them with a smile before skipping towards the stairs, heading down them quickly. “Chris?” You call, standing in his doorframe.

He glances up at you quickly then back down at his phone before he rips his head back up, doing a double take, eyes scanning over the new outfit that had adorned your body. “Uh,” he drawls, looking up to meet your gaze. “Can I help you?”

You smile and place one foot on top of the other, your front knee buckled slightly, hands placed on the doorframe as you stared back at him where he lay on his bed. “I made dinner. You coming?”

Chris thinks about it for a moment before he shakes his head. “I’m not hungry.” He tells you, looking back down at his phone.

You huff and walk over to him until you’re standing next to his bed, reaching down to grab his phone and pull it behind your back. “Already made you a plate.” You tell him.

Chris furrows his eyebrows and sits up on the bed, quickly getting frustrated with you. “Stop fucking doing that shit every time your spoiled ass doesn’t get what you want. Give me my fucking phone.” He says aggressively, voice a tad louder than it normally is.

“Not until you come have dinner with us. I don’t want your food going to waste,” you pout, both hands now securely locked behind your back, phone held sideways between them. “Don’t be so rude, it’s fucking annoying.”

Chris scoffs out a laugh and shakes his head in disbelief. “I’m rude? You’re just coming in my room and snatching shit out of my hands like a fucking toddler, that seems pretty rude to me.”

You take a tiny step closer to Chris, jutting out your bottom lip. “Please?” You beg.

He’s still for a moment, and at first when his body starts to move, your first thought is that he’s giving in and standing up to go have dinner with you and his brothers, but you’re quickly proven wrong when he stands up and grabs your bicep, flipping your body around. You squeal at the sudden movement, stumbling over your own to feet as he spins you.

What you definitely didn’t expect was him facing you towards the bed and grabbing your hands that were still behind your back with one hand, his other hand taking his phone and shoving it in his pocket. He pushes you down on the bed aggressively, your feet still on the floor but your body bent over with your chest pressed into the mattress, leaning over your back until his mouth was next to your ear, making sure you heard the words that were about to fall from his lips.

“Watch your fucking attitude around me before I fucking make you.”

He aggressively shoves your arms, pushing you into the bed roughly as he lets go of you, glaring your way as he starts to walk out of his room, eventually turning his head and exiting, stomping up the stairs.

You use your now free hands to push yourself up until you’re standing straight again, then use them to reach up to your bun that almost completely fell out, grabbing the hair tie and ripping it out.

It took you a moment to process what had happened, but you thought back to it and how it made you feel, and most importantly the newfound throbbing between your legs. You stand there in silence, arms dropped to your sides, until you let out a quiet and confused,

“What the fuck?”

-

a/n: the tension is buildinggggg yall feel it??

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @st6niolo @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @flouqissss @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbrat @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @chrisslollipop @noplaceissafeanymore @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @pvssychicken @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @afilmbykay @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @r0s3luvr @milasturniolo @mattsdillion

[derealizationns]

"am i your wallpaper...?"

characters - ryomen sukuna x gn reader

synopsis - sukuna starts feeling unknown, scary emotions when he sees your lock screen wallpaper.

genre - fluff

warnings - sukuna might be a bit ooc, bc its so hard for me to write him...😭

from prompt special request (prompt #10) <3

"get off me, you insolent human." sukuna grumbled the moment that you threw yourself on his lap, whining about your exhausting day.

despite his harsh words, you still stayed in your place on the couch. you knew that man very well, and it wasn’t difficult to notice his smirk (though he tried really hard to hide it). that’s how you ended up with your head on his thighs, playing with the material of his shirt. in the meantime, sukuna was showing the not-so-obvious side of him—he was gently brushing his hand through your hair. even though he shows himself as an intimidating and fearful man, your lover has a soft spot for you. some people that are close with you could even say that you have him “wrapped around your finger," and that wouldn’t be a lie. right now, you’re just relaxing while the pink-haired man scrolls through his phone. he suddenly looks up at you when you start shifting and lift yourself from him.

“where are you going? i did not permit you to leave my side.” he complained, confused by your actions.

you rolled your eyes at his clinginess.

“i’m going to the bathroom; stop acting like you’ll die if i leave your sight, kuna,”you sigh with a smile. he was so cute.

you get up from the sofa and start heading towards the restroom. the moment you were away, sukuna’s smile widened. It was a brief while when he could show that he’s truly pleased by your closeness. suddenly, the king of curses hears something vibrating on the couch. he looks around in search for the source of the noise. that’s when he notices your phone lighting up. he squints his eyes, looking towards the device.

“no, that cannot be right.” your partner mumbles to himself, seeing the picture on your lock screen.

it looked like the one that you took after your last date, when you both were lying in bed. he can swear he’s seeing things, because why would you have this picture there? what was the purpose? sukuna’s chest is full of weird feelings; he’s shure he never felt before. why is he happy? Is that... the thing humans call “excitement”? ... no, that’s wrong. after all, he is the most powerful of all curses; he does not feel those trivial things, right? all of a sudden, he’s thrown out of his thoughts by quiet steps from the bathroom. your lover immediantly switches his attention from your phone to you. as soon as you see sukuna, you can tell that something is bothering him. you already know that he won’t tell you whats wrong, so you decide to bring it up yourself.

“hey, what’s got you so annoyed? you look like you just ate a lemon.” you try to start carefully and a bit playfully, but sukuna does not buy it.

“you, human. what were you thinking when you did that, huh?! i demand an answer.” pink-haired man ordered.

now you were seriously confused. you got him annoyed? but weren’t you just explaining to him that it’s just a quick trip to the bathroom, not a whole ass journey across the world? now you’re getting mad.

“the hell you’re talking about idiot?" you bark at him.

sukuna’s mouth opens but closes a second later.

“come on, spit it out already; you got something to say, then go on.” you force him to explain himself. your partner takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, like he’s bracing himself for an impact.

“am i your wallpaper...?” he almost whispers.

when you hear him, you almost choke on your saliva. what?! he acts all annoyed and everything because you have him on your lock screen?

“wha-...kuna, is that why you looked so dissatisfied earlier? i mean, i can change it if you want,  but...”

“did I say I want you to change it?” he asks loudly.

now he looks at you like you offended him. this man is truly a confusing one.

“no, but...” you try to continue, but he doesn’t let you.

“so be quiet. can’t listen to your rambling” sukuna cuts you off. you can’t help but start giggling. your man’s face is all red from embarrassment. he—ryomen sukuna, the king of curses—is blushing because his partner has him on their wallpaper. you jump back at the couch beside him, taking his face in your hands and squeezing his cheeks. his eyes widen at your action.

“you...how dare you... insolent human, you have the audacity...” he stutters, and you laugh more at him.

“you’re so cute, kuna… so incredibly adorable.” you teased and placed a soft kiss on his lips. when you pulled away, the curse man still had pink cheeks, but additionally a smile on his face.

“i like that picture.” he whispers. 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ kirara’s notes . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

hi, hello, it’s me again! this is my first work from that prompt special request 🤍 i tried really hard to write sukuna as much in-character as i can, but it’s reallt hard for me to do it correctly 🥹 feel free to leave reviews! likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

and thank you for reading this ~

[rosesradio]

tl;dr for the pjo fandom 🔱

• In the six years that I have been on ao3, 0.5% of all total readers i've had have left a comment on one of my fics. zero-point-five percent.

• Please support fic writers, fan artists, & other creators with comments. Kudos are great, but letting us know with words what you enjoyed about the piece or just that you're Unwell about it in general is the best thing a creator could ask for! It's why we do what we do!

• Yes, this includes every kind of fic you enjoy. I promise you, no one is going to "catch" you lurking on the "wrong" fic (define "wrong" fic??) and even if they do, block them, because no one should be telling anyone what to read & not read.

• This also goes for fics you think "have enough comments" (they don't, or this post wouldn't exist), or are "too old" to the point of which it would be "weird" to comment. I promise you, those stigmas are not real, and no author has ever thought it was "weird" to recieve a comment on a fic they still choose to have on their profile (in fact, they're probably thrilled that the work is still making people happy!).

• Please don't use AI to make fandom creations for you! There are thousands of people in fandom looking to take requests, and fandom thrives from engagement!

• You cannot complain about a dead fandom or disheartened creators leaving the fandom space if you are not doing your part to ensure they feel appreciated.

• Most of my comments come from older people in fandom, from early 20s to 30s. Don't let commenting become a practice that dies with older gen z & millennials!

• I don't normally push to boost posts, but if you'd like, you should reblog this to share with people in the fandom! I want to try to do my part to help other creators feel appreciated as well! 💌

[myceliacrochet]

Reblog if answer tysm!!

Buckle up people this one hurts.

Our society is pretty scared of people who are in great pain, even offended with them.

The feeling I get when speaking with Hala and reading her posts is, here is a person who has been undergoing psychological torture for 400+ days without relief.

True of all Palestinians in Gaza -- just the overwhelming impression I get with Hala.

And Hala Farid Suleiman al-Najjer is not someone who complains over small things. She maintains a trust in justice and goodness, in patient longsuffering and God's plan.

She is incredibly resilient

She is steadfast

She is screaming

She is screaming into the void

She is screaming at an unlistening world that has made and broken promises to her, a world that watches with glee as she and her people are tortured and killed.

I've said before that speaking with Hala can be disturbing. I'm scared of what I'm seeing happen to her.

Of course, we ought to speak in the active voice -- what Israel and the U.S. are doing to her right now, on purpose.

If your tax dollars have ever gone to the IDF, or if you are a person of privilege in some way (recognizing that that is not a criticism of you), here is a beautiful chance to pay some reparations and relieve some suffering.

A coward hides from the people who are suffering the most in the world, reprimands them, reviles them to mitigate his own cognitive dissonance.

A person of honor and courage loves.

Hala mentions in her GoFundMe that they pray that an angel will rescue them.

I believe in human angels -- a vast village of people working together to help.

You know, we mostly see on here the tip of the iceberg -- the Palestinians who have somehow been able to get vetted, show the exact right pictures, say the right things, learn how to use Tumblr.

It's my impression that Hala does not have the strength to do more than she is doing (which is a lot more than I would be able to do in her place).

Hala and her family much, much prefer that donations be sent through PayPal. They arrive faster, and this family needs swift relief.

Due to this, it is hard to track her donations, especially because it pains her to talk about any of this so I try not to pry. But it sounds like they have rarely ever gotten donations.

However, they also have a GoFundMe if the donation protection is important to you.

Vetting: Clean RIS, donation-protected GFM. I apologize that there is no vetting information for her and a couple of the Palestinians in my life. Use your own judgement. If it's a con, it's a weird one that doesn't follow the patterns I'm familiar with. Actually, it doesn't even follow the patterns of the kind of legitimate campaigns that are essentially manipulative (an understandable tactic when your family is dying). It's just screaming in despair and a wretched hope beyond hope.

Anyway, if you want to volunteer to help her apply for vetting, be put in contact with her, or offer verification info, please dm me.

@commissions4aid-international @wellwaterhysteria @mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @7bittersweet @321butz @monika-396 @erameteors @tortiefrancis @ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @dykesbat @aristotels @komsomolka @prisonhannibal @rosawo7 @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @heritageposts @watermotif @stuckinapril @mavigator @lacecap @determinate-negation @deepspaceboytoy @paper-mario-wiki @kibumkim @socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @rooh-afza @knownoshamc @the-awkward-reblobber @soft-sunbird @cockworkangels @dannyketch @cramenjoyer @oreobunny2 @fireyfobbitmedicine @muminshoom @thedigitalbard @timogsilangan @tboynut @wildfeather5002 @fancy-feast-official @honeytonedhottie @cheloneuniverse @roseillith @thelastharbinger

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Okay here we go

Does Stanfraud's eye still bleeds, like when Bill was possessing Ford or doesn't because of his bigger connection to Ford's body?

Is Stanfraud an uncle/big brother figure to Soos, like Stanley is his dad figure? Does Bill even care about him even a little😢

I know that the main focus of this au is on Bill, but since Stanley didn't try to pretend to be Ford, how did Stanley's and Filbrick's first meeting went after the whole "getting kicked out" thing"? Especially since both Stan and Ford were definitely broke at the time

You mentioned that Bill still has access to a little portion of his powers, what are they exactly?

Anyway your au is genuinely awesome and seeing it on my dash is always a huge treat 💛💛💛

Okay the first question I really want to answer because I’ve been thinking about this:

— His eye definitely bleeds on occasion. Even though he is far more connected to Ford’s body here, he’s still a demon possessing a host. He shouldn’t be there. There’s some outer force keeping him trapped. So I have thought about the fact there would probably be some lasting impacts on the body due to possession exposure for so long, such as the eye bleeding becoming a regular problem and gradual loss of vision in that eye. There may also be other physical impacts, but I’ll work on those when I manage to get down an official design for him.

— Great News! He is like Soos’ weird uncle! That may be where he learned to be somewhat decent around kids, honestly. He absolutely tried to mess with him at first, make jabs, tell him the date of his death, attempt to drive him to madness just a little (this is why Stan had to get rid of the last handyman), but Soos proved to be incorruptible and took all of Stanfraud’s weirdness in stride. Bill does end up caring about him. He goes as far as to liking their conversations. Soos keeps up with his chaos! Even Bill isn’t sure what’s going on in that head of his (when he gets his own body back he’s going to find out).

— Though Bill is the main focus of the plot-change, the other aspects are equally as important and so I’m glad they also have people’s interest! Their first meeting is… tense, to say the least. If Filbrick has any regrets, which I think I’ll leave up to interpretation, he’s far too stubborn a man to show them, and would rather dig himself further into a hole than admit he made a mistake. Stan desperately just wants to ignore all the scathing comments and get this little reunion over with, until Filbrick makes a comment about Ford, then Stan snaps. You can insult him, he probably deserves it, but not his brother. Sure, they may not be his brother right now, but the intent is there, and that’s what counts.

It cuts everything short, with Stan grabbing Fraud and telling him they’re leaving (He doesn’t complain).

With Filbrick, I do kind of want to explore their dynamic over the years while he’s still alive, especially with Stan, but also with how he’d treat ‘Ford’ and his odder behaviour. I don’t want to just make Filbrick a one-dimensional character though, as I think there’s a lot to be said about the cycle of abuse and parental projection so. While the AU may be based around the question ‘what if Bill got stuck possessing Ford?’ The answers it has lead me down a lot of different paths to explore — such as this!

— The powers he has access too lessen over time, but currently he is somewhat capable of seeing potential future outcomes (ciphervoyance), pyrokinesis, telekinesis, faster healing factor and teleportation. Note that all of these are in a much weaker state and drain Ford’s body and by extension Bill heavily — especially teleportation. Doing that once can cause him to pass out, so it’s more of an emergency thing, most his abilities are honestly. Too much focus is required.

And I’m so happy to be a little treat on your dash!! I hope you enjoy all this just as much!

[gothamite-rambler]

When you can't get to the hospital, gently pull, pop, and reposition the dislocated body part

Bruce was so accustomed to his injuries that at a certain point, he learned to treat them himself, even snapping bones back into place. He was used to the pain at this point; in fact, it was almost enjoyable. Once you’ve had your back snapped by Bane and survived, you learn to adjust. A dislocated shoulder? His specialty. It became the equivalent of cracking knuckles—now, that thought made him chuckle.

Nightwing (gripping Batman's arm): Okay, I’m going to pull on three.

Batman (urgent): Don’t count down! I don’t want to expect it!

Nightwing: I’m not doing that surprise thing you do. Just get ready on three for when I pull.

Batman: Wait—on three, do you pull right when you say ‘three,’ or do you wait a second before pulling? This is an important question.

Nightwing (annoyed): Oh God, yes! After I say three, there’s no hesitation!

Batman: All right, I’m trusting you!

Nightwing: Yeah, uh-huh. One… two… three!

Nightwing yanked on Batman's arm, and with a sickening crack, he popped the dislocated shoulder back into place.

Batman (moaning, relieved): Oh, that felt GOOD!

Nightwing (exhausted, wiping his brow): Yep, you’re welcome.

Batman rolled his shoulder to test the movement.

Batman: Good job, Nightwing.

Nightwing (grinning): No problem. I’ve been doing this for you since I was 13… I never get used to the sound or your reactions, but it is what it is.

Batman (defensive): I’m not that weird.

Nightwing (smirking): A little weird, but honestly, that’s the least concerning thing about you.

Batman (taking it as a compliment, raising an eyebrow): That’s actually good to know. Thank you.

Superman and Wonder Woman had been watching silently, with Wonder Woman looking utterly fascinated.

Wonder Woman (eyes wide, excited): That was amazing! You must teach me how to do that!

Batman (raising a hand, pausing): It takes years of practice and a lot of unintentional assaults.

Nightwing nodded in agreement, crossing his arms.

Nightwing (nodding): You used to resist a lot more when people did that for you. Remember when you kicked me in my kiwis?

Batman (defensive, shrugging): It was a reflex. You had to fix my leg.

Nightwing (rolling his eyes, frustrated): That doesn’t mean you aim for my good leg!

Batman (dismissing tone, waving a hand): Are you walking? Are you crime-fighting? Yes! So no complaints.

Nightwing (smirking, playfully challenging): I can always re-dislocate your shoulder. Try me.

Batman (smirking back): Well, I wouldn’t be complaining. Tim can do the same thing.

Nightwing: You trained us all for this! We should be getting compensated for it.

Batman (smirking, teasing): Let’s not get crazy—this is a father-and-son bonding moment.

Nightwing (gesturing toward the others): Let’s ask the audience.

Wonder Woman (siding with Batman, nodding thoughtfully): I would probably have my friends or future kids do the same thing.

Superman (crossing his arms, disgusted): I don’t mean to interrupt this enthralling conversation, but um… how did you learn this? And why is it pleasurable?

Batman (shrugging, matter-of-fact): You learn a lot when you break your body. The hospital isn’t always the easiest place to go. I just pull, pop, feel great, and get back to stopping criminals.

Wonder Woman (tilting her head, intrigued): So you have no pain tolerance?

Nightwing (chuckling, teasing): It’s less about pain tolerance and more about him enjoying it sometimes. I mean, he’s with Catwoman every other week—what do you expect?

Batman nodded in agreement, not even bothering to dispute it.

Wonder Woman (nodding, making sense of it): Oh, that makes sense.

Superman (raising an eyebrow, incredulous): That made sense to you?!

[pjsk-hot-takes]

To add onto Anons before me I’ve noticed that whenever misogyny is brought up in the PJSK fandom the people talking about it always specifically refer to L/N, MMJ and even N25. Which.

Actually I think we should talk about Emu Nene An and Kohane more. They face SO much misogyny. Constantly. And nobody even mentions them in discussions about misogyny BECAUSE of said misogyny. Literally every single time an Emunene or Anhane song comes out people call it bad or say it should’ve gone to someone else. Every time. Without fail. It gets ignored at best outright hated at worst.

Ok so thought experiment time. Name a popular Emunene or Anhane song that’s as beloved or gets as much attention as Aun no Beats and Fixer.

If you couldn’t name one - that isn’t even because they don’t have bangers people just don’t like women unless they’re standing right next to men. Anhane alone has Imperial Girl and Odo and Pheles and Love is War and the Night Sky Patrol of Tomorrow and Butterfly on your Right Shoulder archives and you’re telling me that none of those are “good enough”????? Idk I think that’s just bias. Ruikasa and Akitoya songs have gotten popular with worse. Anhane and Emunene could drop the most jaw dropping gorgeous songs ever and not a single person would care and I firmly believe and will stand by that statement.

This isn’t even getting into how they’re treated in group covers!!!!!! Everybody ignores or hates on them!!!! If people feel like they got even slightly more lines than Ruikasa or Akitoya, even in their *own focus songs* (cough forward cough) they get so upset. And yet when Anhane and Emunene get the EXACT same treatment in Ruikasa or Akitoya songs nobody says a single thing!!!

And that’s not just speculation I KNOW that’s the case I can literally prove it. An has three total solo lines in the entirety of blender. That’s the exact same amount of solo lines as Toya gets in Ready Steady. They pretty much have the exact same amount of duet lines as well. In both songs. But Ready Steady is infamous and hated for it whereas blender nobody has even pointed this out and it’s universally beloved. It’s not even just a “blender is a focus song” thing because this happened with Forward too. It’s just misogyny.

I’ve seen people complain about Daybreak Frontline. Because and I quote “I hate it when the girls get most of the lines”. I can’t even go into any of the Nene or Emu tags without filtering every single Tsukasa and Rui tag first and even then finding any sort of content is almost impossible I think that’s a problem.

People will call Kohane “just a girl” despite the fact that she has a solid character arc and a personality and development. You can think she’s boring or not for you but????????? Don’t call her “just a girl”????? Esp not when she has social difficulties that are intentionally supposed to be relatable to the audience. A lot of people might actually relate to her character and journey even if they don’t necessarily like her. Idk leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

An has it only SLIGHTLY better because there’s a niche little fanbase for her and she’s somewhat popular (in the western fanbase. I think Kohane is more popular in Japan iirc.) but she still gets treated as an accessory to Akito and Toya just like Kohane. Also people keep trying to be weird and frame her as abusive or toxic which. Considering that possibility isn’t like a bad thing but people are just straight up reaching to try to prove stuff that either isn’t implied at any point or is outright refuted in the text just to villainize her??? Which is weird??? Especially because these people will turn around and defend Rui and Akito. Like. What did she ever do to you….. you’re willing to defend Rui who has canonically put people in mortal danger because teehee autism (I am autistic FYI I still think that’s a really stupid thing to use as justification especially if he’s aware it’s dangerous????) but An. Just existing with her fear of abandonment was too much??????

I could go ON and on and on there are so many examples….. help me……… help me anons…..

It’s not even that liking Akito and Toya or Rui and Tsukasa is inherently bad!!!!! But the favoritism as a whole is…….. something. Especially when it turns into hating the fem characters.

Also Mizuki suffers this too with Rui as another anon mentioned and it’s like. Really guys. Like first off it’s not about him it’s about Mizuki and if you’re gonna involve anyone else it should be the Nightcord girlies. Second off It’s a double whammy because people will bring up Rui but make no mention of An despite the fact that An is the one who’s canonically defended Mizuki from transphobes. Like. Why only Rui.

(I tried to word this as neutrally as possible I hope it didn’t come off as too aggressive ausuxuvhxhgxhgshg…. Anyways….. introspection and growth is good and cool actually…. Also I’m using Anhane and Emunene and Akitoya and Ruikasa for ease of use not as like a ship thing just to clarify it’s just tiring typing out each name individually)

.

[amazingmsme]

Won’t You Stay? (Just a Little Bit Longer)

AN: FINALLY finished the last fic for tickletober! Sorry for the wait, I wanted to finish the other fics first & been pretty busy. This one was a blast to write, & I got to really dive into their relationship dynamic! Mark & Karen def picked Ted up at a bar lmaooo. Anyway, without further ado, here’s day 31!

No warnings, but things are insinuated. Nothing explicit, just some light bondage.

In Hatchetfield, the strange quickly becomes mundane. Having lived there all his life, Ted was not easily phased. He saw weird shit all the time and brushed it off with ease. Yet he was still taken aback when the notoriously prude-y, picture perfect couple that was Karen and Mark Chasity walked up to him at the bar of all places. He didn't even think they went to bars.  He thought uptight christian nut jobs like that fainted at the smell of booze, but apparently he was wrong. He was wrong about a lot of things, lately.

"So, what's the score?" Mark asked as he slid up to the bar, pointing at one of the numerous flat screens above shelves of liquor. "21 to six," he answered with a smirk, taking a swig of his beer. Mark let out a low whistle.

"Geez, they're getting creamed." Ted scoffed in amusement, looking him up and down.

"Don't tell me you're a fuckin' Cowboys fan," he taunted. He chuckled shyly, ducking his head.

"What can I say? I like to root for the underdogs."

Was he hallucinating, or did Mark just fucking wink at him? Wasn't his wife right there? Wait, where did she go? He could've sworn she had been clinging to his arm just a second ago-

"A piña colada please," Karen spoke up on his left. He nearly jumped out of his skin because when the hell did she sit down? And shouldn't she have at least sat on his other side? Maybe, I don't know, next to her husband?

Apparently, she wasn't done with her order, feeling the need to specify, "And make it dirty." She was looking directly at him when she said that, twirling a lock of hair around her finger as she bit her lip.

Ted was extremely confused. If he didn't know any better, he'd say they were coming onto him. But that was impossible! There's no way in hell that they would be looking for a third, and especially not someone like him.

They were nothing but pure vanilla, as pristine as the driven snow. He was like a muddy puddle. This was just a coincidence. A really, really weird coincidence.

"I'll have a Jim Beam, on the rocks. Actually, make that two."

Okay, maybe they were trying to take him home.

"That's okay, I'm fine with a beer," he tried to decline, but Mark insisted.

"We all deserve a taste of the finer things in life."

Ted felt a blush creep to his cheeks, and not just from the alcohol. He couldn't remember the last time a sexual advancement had made him this flustered.

"Don't you agree?" Mark prompted when Ted didn't answer. He shook himself out of it and nodded vigorously.

"It's what separates us from the animals," he said, trying to sound smart.

"Well I couldn't agree more," Karen added, looking past Ted to her husband. And just like that, they found their third.

~~~

Things were admittedly a little awkward and stiff at first, but they quickly found their groove. They both were surprisingly kinky, not that Ted was complaining. It was just... so unexpected coming from them.

It felt nice being in on their dirty little secret. Or was he the secret in question?

Oh well. He supposed it didn't matter. Not when things were this good.

Ted flopped back on the bed, lying between the pair with a relaxed smile on his face. Karen snuggled closer to his right side, Mark lacing their fingers together on his left.

"That was really fun," Karen purred, walking her fingers up his chest.

"I'll say," Mark chimed in, offering a quick peck to Ted's cheek. He leaned across him so he could reach Karen, kissing her cheek.

"Yeah, you guys are amazing," he said, still breathless and dazed. "Same time again next week?" he asked, only half joking.

"Hey, there's no need to rush off again," Mark assured.

"Yeah, who are you? Cinderella?" she teased, the wine making her giggle at her own joke. Tipsy Karen was absolutely adorable. "Stay for a while," she insisted softly.

"That's okay, I don't wanna overstay my welcome," he shot back playfully. But what was meant as a lighthearted joke clearly struck a chord with each of them.

"After everything, you don't think you're welcome to just relax in our home? You're not just our lover, you're our guest. Stay; have a snack, watch some TV, whatever you wanna do." And didn't that sound nice...

But Ted Spankoffski never really had nice things. Or if he did, they didn't stick around for long.

"You sure? 'Cause if you're busy, I can get outta your hair," he offered, nervous butterflies fluttering about in the pit of his stomach. He's used to being the bootycall; to showing up on a whim for some casual sex, and getting kicked back out on the streets once they were done with him. But they actually wanted him to stay, which was why it was too good to be true.

"Oh I can be busy, if that's what you want," Mark growled, rolling over to straddle Ted's waist. He leaned down to plant a kiss to his lips, lingering with a gentle bite. Ted hummed, melting into the bed.

"You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Chasity," Ted smirked.

"I try," he shot him a wink, allowing his hand to roam Ted's chest.

"So why don't you ever want to stay?" Karen asked, with an exaggerated pout. The question caught him off guard, so he answered honestly.

"I want to stay, just... still not really used to the idea of you guys wanting that too," he admitted. Normally, he's never allow himself to be so vulnerable and bold with his emotions. But Mark and Karen were different. They didn't judge people, even people like him who should be judged, and they were nice. Like, genuinely nice. When he was with them, he felt seen and heard. He had spent nearly his whole life trying to run away from his emotions, but with them, he could finally relax.

"Oh Ted... Of course we want that," Karen spoke barely above a whisper, carding her fingers through his hair. Ted looked between them hopefully.

"Really?"

She offered a sweet, radiant smile. "Really."

"You're not just saying that to cheer me up?" he asked playfully.

"No, if we wanted to cheer you up, we'd do this!" Without warning, Mark began scribbling over his sides, drawing out a surprised giggly shriek.

"Hehehey wahahahait! D-dohon't!" he whined, flopping around uselessly on the bed.

"Why not? Is someone a little bit tiiiiiicklish?" Karen chimed in, using her long nails to flutter under his chin. He snorted and slammed his neck against his shoulder for protection.

"Noho!" he denied, a giddy, nervous grin plastered to his face.

"Uh oh honey, looks like we've got ourselves a liar," Mark taunted from above. His hands continued to knead the slight pudge around his middle, drawing out a few deeper laughs.

"Oh no, what should we do?" she asked, feigning innocence.

"I think..." Mark trailed off for dramatic effect, smirking when he heard Ted whine. "We should get the cuffs." The way Ted's eyes snapped open to look at them was priceless.

"What?" he screeched, excitement bubbling up inside him.

"That's the punishment for dirty rotten liars," Karen purred,  leaning over the side of the bed to rummage through their box of toys. She popped back up, showing off a pair of fuzzy, leopard print cuffs.

"Ihihi wasn't-" he began to protest, but Mark shushed him by placing a finger to his smiling lips.

"Don't try to back out now," Mark said, cocking his head to the side. "Arms up, tough guy."

"Why don't you make mehehe!" his defiant protest melted away into giggles. He didn't bother holding back his laughter; he doubted he could even if he wanted to.

Even through his delirium, he knew they were doing this for him. To make him relax, to show him they really cared... And to tease the living hell out of him.

God, they knew him so well.

He didn't resist when Mark slowly raised his arms above his head, snapping the cuffs into place, looping the short chain around the headboard. Ted gave his arms a weak tug, just for show. He squirmed in anticipation, a giddy smile plastered on his face from the threat of what was to come.

"You're gonna stay right there until we decide you can go. Got that?" Karen asked, cocking her head expectantly. Her tone was halfway between stern and caring.

"Yehes ma'am!" he agreed, arching his back when she slowly scribbled along his bare waistline.

"And we won't stop until you admit to yourself that we want you around for more than just sex," Mark added pointedly. Ted couldn't help but smirk at the new caveat.

"Well in that case, we'd be here ahahall nihihight! Ihihit was just ahaha joke!"

"Our love is no laughing matter!" Karen chastised through her own giggles, the fucking hypocrite.

“Oh, I got a joke for ya! What’s a pirate’s favorite letter of the alphabet?” Mark asked, barely able to finish his sentence before Ted answered.

“Ihihit’s R!”

“Ooo, close, but no.”

“What?” he screeched in shock before it took on a higher pitch as Mark dug into his ribs. Apparently, answering wrong had consequences.

“A pirate’s favorite letter is C! Get it? ‘Cause they sail the seas!”

“Thahat fuckin’ suhuhucks! No no wahahait, I’m sohohorry!” Ted apologized the moment he began vibrating his clawed hands against his ribcage.

“Language! You’re lucky I don’t wash your mouth out with soap instead,” Karen teased, kneading into his soft tummy. He snorted and bucked his hips, unable to dislodge the hands attacking his torso.

“Ihihi’m aha grown ass mahahan, I-I cahan say whatehehever I wahahant!”

“Really? Could’ve fooled me with that laugh of yours,” Mark taunted, enjoying the blush spreading across Ted’s cheeks.

“Hehehey!” he whined exaggeratedly.

“Oh Mark, be nice,” she mock scolded her husband, shooting him a contradictory wink. He smirked back.

“I am being nice. He’s not even screaming yet.”

“Mark!” Ted yelped at the playful threat.

“What? I’m just kidding!” he chuckled, crawling his fingers higher to scratch inside his exposed pits. He leaned in close to growl directly in Ted’s ear, ensuring he could be heard over his hysterics. “Or am I?”

Ted didn’t know what he did to deserve this. He didn’t know what he did to deserve them. They were kind, and cruel, and everything Ted could ever ask for, and he was grateful they chose him.

[that-trans-autistic-guy]

The Dream of Being in DBD as a Trans Character: Updated

i've posted the original version of this here, but im posting this revised one here bcuz i live in a country that hates me apparently and im going to plaster my story everywhere bcuz its important. people like me are important and we deserve to be seen, along with our stories.

The plot begins with a client walking in. A ghost boy, no older than eighteen, comes in and asks for their assistance. His friend, who we’ll call Roy, had moved to the UK before the ghost, we’ll call Gilbert, passed away. The two were extremely close and Gil was Roy’s only real friend. Gil’s request is that the agency finds Roy and helps him deliver a last message to his friend. It takes some discussion, but the agency agrees.

We see a teen walking through a high school, head down, headphones on and clearly on the outside (think Edwin’s scene of walking against all the other students). Some jock in a varsity jacket slaps the books out of his hands. One particular book gets kicked down the hallway or something, and the whole hallway watches him go after it. His locker has all sorts of insults scribbled onto it, multiple of which are feminine in nature. Roy just sighs as he exchanges some of his supplies.

We watch him go through classes, just glimpses of classmates glaring, throwing papers at him, etc. He doesn’t respond to it beyond a few resigned expressions and sighs. A bell rings and the hallways are flooded by people going to lunch. Enter Crystal Palace, flanked by Edwin and Charles. She asks if he has a moment to talk and he says something like, “Look, I’m just trying to go eat without getting fucked up. So if you and your ghost boyfriends could just leave me alone, that’d be great.” He walks off, leaving Crystal and the boys extremely confused.

They didn’t think he would be able to see them. Gil had said he’d never said anything about seeing ghosts.

Crystal and the boys talk to the other students about Roy, posing as new/exchange students who’d noticed something about him. None of the students are particularly nice, saying he’s weird and abnormal. They also add in statements saying things like he’s “a girl playing pretend” and other statements in that vein. It confuses the boys, especially Edwin, but it seems to click for Crystal.

She finds Roy after school, hiding in the art/band room while the hoard of students goes outside to leave. His headphones are still on and he’s on his phone, but his head whips up the second the psychic enters so he’s clearly on high alert. Crystal sits across from him and asks why he could see ghosts.

Roy explains that when he came out, his parents stopped caring. They didn’t accept him, help him transition and refused to call him by his name. When he was seventeen, his appendix burst. He’d complained for multiple days that something was very wrong with his stomach and his parents ignored it. It burst at school and he nearly died from their negligence. 

He saw his first ghost at the school, as soon as he’d returned. It was a girl who had died the previous year in an accident, still attending classes with the rest of her classmates. He even spoke to the ghost a few times, but he never brought it up to Gilbert or anyone else. His classmates already bullied him and he wasn’t eager to give them more ammunition. Even so, he’d occasionally sneak into a bathroom to talk to the rather lonely ghost girl. He knew loneliness all too well and didn’t wish it on anyone.

After the whole ordeal, his uncle asked for custody and they gave it over without protest. Once he had it, his uncle, who we’ll call Josh, immediately worked on helping him transition. Josh got him to doctors who gave him HRT and helped him legally change his name. When Josh was told he would move to England for his high paying job barely six months later, he got Roy top surgery scheduled before they left. He enrolled in his current school, which had just as much bullying as his last. 

Crystal tells him that his friend, Gilbert, had contacted them to find him and help deliver a message. Roy’s shocked and asked if he could see Gil. The three agree, saying they could arrange something for that night. They make conversation until Roy deems it safe enough for him to leave. He gives them an awkward wave on the way out.

The two friends reunite that night. It’s tearful and emotional. We learn, through conversation or flashbacks, that Gilbert had died shortly after Roy moved away in a car accident. Roy had flown out to be at his best friend’s funeral and had been inconsolable. Gil’s family had let him sit with them, basically his own family. The boys hold each other like they might fade away, resting their foreheads together.

They talk. Gil reassures him that he was okay, that he was glad Roy was still going. He’s sad that Roy hasn’t made any new friends and the boy says he’s scared of letting in the wrong people. He says that maybe he can start with the detectives and Roy agrees that maybe he can. They talk a little more, the two stating that they love each other and similar statements, and Gil’s ready to move on. The blue light appears and he smiles sadly, giving his friend one last hug. He tells Roy to look after himself, asks the agency to look after him, too. Roy is holding in a sob but tells Gilbert to go on and that he’ll see him later, yeah? Gilbert nods and goes with Death, the light disappearing. As it does, we see the ghost boys holding hands, cast in blue light, reminded of their own deep friendship and unable to imagine parting.

Roy swipes at his tears as the agency approaches. They all offer their condolences, even a hug maybe, and he accepts. He asks if what they do is helping people move on and they say that it is. He nods and says that he’d like to help them sometimes, to which they all agree. The four of them hang out for a while, letting Roy tell the stories of Gilbert he’d been aching to tell.

When Roy goes home, his uncle is still up. The teen had said he would be out with potential new friends. Josh asks if the hangout went well and immediately worries when he sees his nephew’s tears. Roy is quick to tell him it was great, better than he could have imagined. He tells his uncle that he told them about Gilbert and even got to share his memories of him. Josh gets tearful as well when Roy says that he thinks he might actually have a group of friends he could be really close to. The two hug before the camera pans back to the agency. Perhaps the boys are deep in thought, perhaps they’re talking about the case and how it made them feel. But it’s clear that whether said aloud or not, the case had hit very close to home. And it leaves them with things to think about.

I like to think Roy would make a few other appearances, in a similar way to Monty. Edwin would ask him questions about his identity and queer stuff, notebook in hand. Charles and him would mess around, playing jokes on the others. He and Crystal would commiserate over neglectful parents, helping her as she tries to rebuild her life. When Niko comes back, they’d share shows and books they each like. 

Maybe the bullying gets bad and one of the ghost boys goes with him to school, casually tripping the bullies or being silly around them while the bully is oblivious. Roy slowly makes a friend or two at school, and overall comes out of his shell bit by bit. And he can almost see Gilbert smiling from beyond.

again, im posting this bcuz despite the last election, our stories matter and so do we. queer stories matter. trans stories matter. and if you don't like it, suck it up. cuz we arent going anywhere.

[carelisswriting]

Vectors

Hey y'all, this is one of my fics for ecto-implosion this year!

My partner this time is @blobghost, and I really enjoyed working with them! The art they made that inspired this fic is amazing, please check it out!!

Hope y'all enjoy the fic!!

***

“Do I really have to wear this? It’s so stuffy.” Danny complained, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

Clockwork hummed lightly, smoothing down the vest that kept getting bunched up no matter what Danny did “It is traditional for the King to wear clothing befitting their station.”

“Okay, but, counterpoint, I really think my normal suit would be fine-“

“Daniel. We have been over this.” Clockwork said with a sigh.

Danny rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue anymore.

They had, in fact, been over this. They didn’t want to give anyone an excuse to dispute his claim to the throne, or start a stupid fight about him being a bad choice for King.

That last bit was most likely to happen because of the Observants, which Clockwork had told Danny would be ‘an annoyance’. Considering that was strong wording for Clockwork, and weirdly straightforward as well, Danny was taking him pretty seriously about it.

Anyway, what it meant was, unfortunately, Danny was stuck wearing the stuffy formal clothes.

Okay, to be fair, they weren’t that stuffy. They just weren’t as casual as he would’ve liked them to be. For that, he’d need to be in jeans and a t-shirt, or his suit.

At least the belt had a pocket for his thermos.

Danny turned, grabbing the notecards for his speech. He’d spent the last few days trying to come up with something that didn’t completely suck, and hopefully he’d managed to do it.

He was not that confident, however. Clockwork had refused to help him with it, stating that “A King’s words must be their own, whether or not they are.”

“Tell me again why I have to do this? I really think I could get away with not doing it.” He said, stuffing the notecards in the same pocket as his thermos.

Clockwork did not sigh, but Danny could tell he wanted to.

“You need to announce your intentions as King, as well as formally swear to uphold the mantle of the Ghost King and protect the Realms. You cannot ‘get away with not doing it’.”

Danny floated off the ground, flipping onto his stomach so he could prop his head up on his hands “Okay, yeah all that is important, but like, I really think I could just not do it and everything would be fine. There’s no way Pariah did it-“

“Pariah Dark did, in fact, have a formal speech, swear-in, and coronation.” Clockwork said, cutting him off.

Well damn, there goes his best argument. Wait-

“You’re telling me Pariah Dark, as in the same Pariah Dark who was completely insane, made a speech about how he was going to ‘protect the Realms’ and be a good King?” Danny asked, bewilderment in his voice.

Clockwork sighed, an amused tone to it.

“Well, no. His speech was much more focused on ‘crushing his enemies’ and being ‘the most powerful ghost’. However, he still made one.”

Danny sighed, before lowering himself back onto the ground “Fine, fine, I guess I do have to make the stupid speech. Would’ve been more convenient if I could’ve done the coronation at the same time.”

He was being a little bit petty with that. But, to be fair, Clockwork had literally just shown up in his room, in the middle of the night, with the Crown and Ring and crowned him right then and there. Well, not quite then, seeing as time had been frozen. Regardless, the entire thing had been weird.

“You had to be crowned then, Daniel. Just as you have to make this speech now.”

Vague, and unhelpful. Just like Clockwork usually was.

Clockwork reached out to smooth out the vest again, since Danny twisting in the air had messed it up.

…Okay, maybe he wasn’t usually unhelpful. At least when he wasn’t trying to be.

Ancients, everything about Clockwork was so confusing-

“Are you ready, Daniel?”

Danny shook his head slightly, focusing back on Clockwork.

“Ready as I can be, I guess.”

Clockwork nodded, before opening the door and stepping out into the hallway.

Danny followed after him, not bothering to close the door behind him. Technically, the Keep was his now, so it didn’t matter.

He was not actually planning to spend time here, but it was the principle of the thing.

As they walked through the Keep, Danny could see the finishing touches on the renovation being completed, ghosts floating around and carefully reshaping the architecture. The renovation was mostly for the ghosts that actually enjoyed the Keep, but Danny had been the one to start it.

The whole point was to make the castle not quite as crumbly, and not as gloomy. He’d wanted to make it nice, since it was technically his. He’d also wanted to make it better for the ghosts who liked it and wanted to live there.

Already, it was looking a heck of lot better with repaired walls and more color. Though, since he’d put other ghosts in charge of the actual decoration, a lot of the decoration was in ‘his colors’, which everyone seemed to define as black, white, and a bit of green. At least it was better than the grey and blacks of the Keep previously. The white brought at least some brightness into the long hallways.

Clockwork stopped outside the door to the throne room, turning back to Danny.

He inclined his head, gesturing for Danny to step into the room ahead of him.

Which, for the record, Danny did not want to do.

But unfortunately, he couldn’t avoid this.

He sighed, before stepping in front of Clockwork and through the door.

Oh that was entirely too many ghosts. There had to be at least three hundred crammed in the throne room, waiting for his speech. They were stretching the limits of how many of them could fit in here comfortably.

Danny had a feeling the only reason there weren’t any more was because a bunch of the Realms had sent representatives, as opposed to multiple of their denizens coming.

He knew there were representatives because of the fact that a ton of them sent letters ahead, giving him their regards and generally sucking up to him.

He was not a fan of that part of being king. He was literally a random teenager, why were these people trying so hard to get his favor?

He knew why, obviously, but it was still a valid question. He couldn’t even drive! Though ghosts probably didn’t care about that, actually.

He finally looked away from the crowd, seeing the raised dais where the throne sat, as well as the ghosts on it. Clockwork had made his way over at some point, and-

Ugh. Great. The Observants were here. Or at least one of them was. Probably to ‘keep an eye on things’.

It was fine, he had the notecards. He wasn’t going to give them an excuse to yell at him. Or Clockwork. Ancients, did he hate the amount of control the stupid eyeballs had over him-

“King Phantom!”

Danny froze as he realized he’d been spotted by the crowd. The door had let out just next to the dais, slightly out of sight, so he hadn’t caught their attention immediately, but now that one of them had noticed him, they all noticed him. He quickly stopped being able to recognize his name in the cacophony that followed.

Danny winced, before floating up onto the dais. As he did, the crowd quieted, all of them waiting for him to speak.

No pressure, or anything.

At least he remembered how he was supposed to start his speech.

“Greetings, Dead and Neverborn of the Infinite Realms. Thank you for attending to this speech, as it was not ordered of you.” As he spoke, Danny carefully pulled out his notecards and hid them behind his back. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to use them, but he didn’t want to fumble them if he did.

The crowd cheered, some of them looking at him with expressions that bordered on mania. He’d realized, in all the preparation for this speech and fixing up the Keep, that a few of the ghosts were desperate for a ruler. That wasn’t, y’know, Pariah Dark.

It was really weird to think they saw him as the solution to their problems.

“In this speech, my intentions as ruler will be formerly declared, as well as illustrated through the taking of vows-“

Danny froze, feeling something. It felt almost like his ghost sense, but different. A sense that the area in front of him was warping-

The crowd in front of him shifted nervously-

He heard the Observant mutter-

And then the something snapped.

Hovering in front of him was a staff, horizontal and roughly level with his waist. On one end, a black hole lay, drawing some of the ambient ectoplasm into it. On the other, a white hole, small shapes that almost looked like birds flying out. Connecting them, a thin bridge of bright green rods, mimicking the way that space-time was shown in every textbook he’d seen.

Danny took a breath, feeling the powercoming off the staff in waves.

-Child king, betwixt realms you lie.-

Danny startled at the voice, seeming to come from every corner of the room and yet not reaching more than him.

-In this, you are unique. In this, your potential is revealed. In this, your responsibility.-

Danny felt frozen, held in place by the voice and the staff.

-Reach out to Space, child king. To the Space between stars. Reach out and hold your fate.-

Danny shuddered, feeling the voice retreat, the staff floating in front of him folding back into itself. He could tell that no one else had heard it, the crowd’s faces uneasy and full of confusion.

He stared at the staff, seeing the twin spaces at the ends swirl, shine, reach out and touch the world around them.

He- The staff felt right, somehow. The idea of taking it up, holding it for the rest of his afterlife. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever felt.

The Crown and Ring were a burden, one forced on him by circumstances and Vlad’s rash actions.

Even other artifacts, like the Infini-Map, were neutral presences on his senses.

The staff felt like coming home.

He held out a hand to it, dropping the notecards.

They fluttered to the ground as he reached out to grab it.

His fingers barely an inch away as the Observant screeched “No!”

Grazing the staff, the buzzing of the black and white holes overtaking him, as he faintly heard Clockwork declare “A master of Space has been chosen.”

His hand wrapped around the staff, and pain surged into him.

Cold and burning and tearing his very atoms apart-

Fractals of ice surged out from him, Danny just barely able to see the crowd flinch away and panic through the tears in his eyes.

He dropped to his knees, no longer able to hold himself up in the face of the pain coursing through his entire body. The staff was still gripped in his hand, his muscles locking around it as it threw all its power into him.

He could feel it as parts of him changed, as parts of him broke and reformed in the wake of the staff’s power, of Space, pouring into him.

He wasn’t big enough, he couldn’t contain it, Space was too large-

Space was infinity, Space was miniscule, Space was shredding him-

Danny’s vision blurred, and he listed to the side as the pain reached a crescendo.

He caught a hint of purple in the corner of his view as he screamed, as he fell to pieces, as he-

As he passed out, mercifully feeling nothing.

***

He woke up slowly, blinking up at the unfamiliar ceiling for a while.

He’d been about to give his speech, but he’d only gotten through some of it before-

His hand flexed around the staff, still clutched in his grip.

 Right. He’d passed out.

Danny blinked again. Wait, he’d passed out cause of the pain. But.

He felt fine. Better than fine, really. He felt like he’d gotten a normal amount of sleep for once, on top of having more energy than he’d had since the ghost attacks started.

He also felt…different.

He frowned, sitting up.

He glanced down at the staff, hearing it hum as he moved it around. It looked the same, other than-

Huh. In the center of the green links, there were black and white ribbons of ectoplasm twining around each other, shifting and changing before his eyes.

Had that happened because of him grabbing the staff?

It must have.

Danny glanced around the room, at the gears and clocks on the walls. Clockwork must’ve taken him back to Long Now after he passed out. Which, thank the Ancients for that. The other options would’ve been staying at the Keep, which, no thank you, or trying to get Danny back to the human realm while he was passed out, which would’ve gone even worse than staying at the Keep.

He looked at the room for a moment longer, and became aware of something.

The room wasn’t real. Well, it was real, of course it was. But it wasn’t really a room.

It was just measures of space, of objects in space and measures of their own space.

Easily manipulated with just a moment of effort-

Danny twitched the hand holding the staff, not even thinking as he did it, and found himself by the far wall. It wasn’t teleportation, it wasn’t even moving. It was just changing how he viewed the space. There was no difference between him sitting on the bed and him standing by the wall, not really, not from his point of view-

Danny shook his head, snapping himself out of the trance he’d gone into when he’d realized the room wasn’t real. Okay, that was weird. He could still see, or sense, the way that the Space in the room had no fundamental difference between it. He could definitely pull the little trick of moving Space around him again, if he wanted to.

This was really weird. And not normal, even for ghosts. They teleported, yeah, but not like that. He should be freaking out.

But the staff still felt like home, felt safe, felt right.

And the way that Space folded around him at the slightest desire from himself felt right, too. Like it was meant to be this way.

…He should find Clockwork.

He’d know what was happening, why this staff had appeared in front of Danny. Why it seemed to have been waiting for him.

He opened the door with the hand that wasn’t holding the staff. Briefly, he wondered if he could set it down. The amount of wrongness that hit him at the thought of doing that confirmed he couldn’t, at least for now.

That really should’ve sent him into a panic attack or something. It didn’t.

Instead, he felt calm, even giddy. The staff was so cool!

The concept of having a black hole so neatly contained was already insane, and he really wanted to know how it worked but had an unfortunate feeling that the answer was magic, or at least close to it-

But having a white hole, of all things! It proved that they existed, even if just on the end of an impossible staff. Danny was the first human to see one! It proved the theory that they were the inverse of black holes as well, since it was on the opposite end-

Danny blinked, stopping in his tracks in the hallway. Huh.

Were the holes connected? If he sucked something into the black hole, would it appear out of the white hole?

Earlier it had just been pulling in ambient ectoplasm, though it strangely wasn’t doing that anymore, and putting out the bird-lookalike energy, but now that he had claimed it, would something different happen?

Logically, it should be more controlled. That was probably why it wasn’t pulling in ambient ectoplasm, and why it hadn’t sucked up the bed he had been in.

Danny looked down at the staff, watching the black and white energy twine together inside the staff.

On one hand, he really should go find Clockwork.

On the other hand, it couldn’t hurt if he played around with the staff a bit first, right?

He was pretty sure it was connected to him, and did what he wanted, so it wasn’t like he was accidentally going to cause a Space-Time anomaly or anything.

Unless he wanted to. He probably could if he wanted to.

But Danny was not going to do that, especially not in the middle of Clockwork’s lair.

That would just be rude.

Though, he really didn’t think Clockwork would care that much what he did as long as there wasn’t too much damage to be easily repairable. The ghost had always been nice to Danny, and accommodating, excluding their first meeting.

Their first meeting was a disaster. And also one that was not going to be repeated, ever, for multiple reasons.

Anyway! The point is he really wanted to mess around with the staff.

So, he was gonna mess around with the staff.

Danny grinned, holding the staff out in front of him like he’d seen his sister do with her bo staff.

He…was probably going to have to bother her for lessons if this turned out to be a staff he could actually fight with.

Danny shook his head, concentrating on the staff. He might as well test out the black hole first, since that fed into the white hole.

He glanced around, looking for something he could destroy without it being too much of a problem, or too annoying for Clockwork. He zeroed in on a small vase, one without any of the clock or gear imagery Clockwork was fond of. Instead, it had what looked like fish swimming through seaweed, though they weren’t like any fish Danny had ever seen, fins branching off fins.

Either way, not something Clockwork was likely to care if Danny destroyed. It was probably something he’d picked up or been given, and shoved in the hallway so he wouldn’t have to see it.

Danny knew for a fact that Clockwork spent most of his time in his viewing room, or the garden. Well, and the living room, but he was pretty sure that had only started after Danny started coming around.

He was pretty sure the living room hadn’t even existed before he’d started coming around.

It was nice, that Clockwork had made such a comfy space for him.

Danny shook his head again. He needed to stop getting off track. Thinking about feelings and stuff later, testing cool new staff now.

He braced himself, before sweeping the staff out at the vase. He made contact with it, the black hole dragging and distorting the vase as it pulled it in. That’s so cool-

Danny, unfortunately, had overestimated the amount of force he should put behind his swing. He realized this as the black hole kept moving forward, and made contact with one of the many clocks on the walls.

The brass machinery was sucked into the black hole, a shrieking sound following as it was ripped off the wall. Danny winced, hastily pulling back the staff.

Okay, noted. This thing was a lot lighter than it looked. Or it just felt lighter to him. Either way, hopefully Clockwork would forgive him about the clock.

Though, Danny wasn’t going to tell him if he could avoid it. It was more a hope that Clockwork would forgive him when he inevitably found out on his own.

He glanced back at the wall, seeing that despite the horrible noise it had made, pulling the clock off it hadn’t damaged it all that much. At least he’d gotten rid of the vase.

Danny started to float down the hall. He probably needed to head to the viewing room, he’d bet that’s where Clockwork was.

It took him a minute or so of floating through the halls to remember the original reason he’d been experimenting with the staff.

He wanted to figure out if something would come out of the white hole after being sucked into the black hole. He glanced around, seeing that the hallway he was in now didn’t have anything he was likely to destroy if he messed up again. The walls were full of interlocking gears, and Danny knew from experience they were not easily destroyed.

He may or may not have accidentally hit one of them with an ectoblast. And some of his ice. And also himself. He’d been running on an hour of sleep and three ghost fights, it really wasn’t his fault. Clockwork had barely managed to avoid laughing, Danny could just tell. He’d let him take a nap outside of time after that though, so that made up for it.

Anyway, the gears were not likely to get messed up, was his point.

Danny looked at the staff for a moment, before holding it out in front of himself again.

Okay, how was he gonna do this? It had seemed pretty obvious that the black hole had to touch things, though technically he bet that wasn’t so much a restriction of the staff as it was a restriction he was putting on the staff-

He needed to focus.

Danny tilted his head. Well, a bit of that ramble probably was useful. If the staff responded to him, which he was sure it did, it just hadn’t really sunk in yet- The staff responded to him.

So, he could do whatever and have the staff do what he wanted.

Danny grinned, before pulling back the staff and making a motion with it as if he was hurling an ectoblast at someone.

A burst of white light shot out of the staff, heading directly towards the gears on the wall, and it was then that Danny realized two things.

One, it looked like whatever went in the black hole got turned into energy, which made sense, at least a little bit-

And two, he hadn’t considered the fact that the staff was quite a bit more powerful than one of his ectoblasts.

The energy blast hit one of the gears, shattering it and stopping the spinning of the gears around it as they lost connection with each other.

Danny grimaced, looking at the remnants of the gear on the floor. That…was not going to be fun to fix. And he did not doubt that he would be the one fixing it, when Clockwork found out. At the very least, he’d be made to help.

He was gonna put off Clockwork finding out about this for as long as he could.

It wasn’t like the damage was in an area of Long Now he went through that often, and he’d told Danny that it often took him months to realize if something had gone awry with his lair, just due to how big it was and his own distorted sense of time.

So, if luck was on Danny’s side, which it almost never was, he wouldn’t have to fix the wall for a few months.

Danny sighed.

Yeah, he was fixing it before he left today, wasn’t he?

Unless something distracted Clockwork enough.

The staff in Danny’s hand hummed, and he realized that Clockwork probably was pretty distracted. He’d seemed to know what was going on with the whole ‘Master of Space’ thing, anyway.

Danny should probably find him, instead of destroying more stuff.

Accidentally destroying more stuff.

Danny shook his head, before flying down the hallway. The viewing room was usually close-ish to the living room and the garden, just cause Clockwork didn’t want to have to go that far if Danny visited or he needed to check on the time screens.

All Danny had to do was find one of the three rooms, and he was sure to find Clockwork.

Who would hopefully have some explanations.

***

In the end, it took about twenty minutes for Danny to find his way to the viewing room.

Long Now was big, and also Danny had spent perhaps too long wandering and thinking about the staff.

It turned out that the room he woke up in was pretty close to the living room, if he’d gone the other way in the hallway.

Which was a bit frustrating, but fine. He’d gotten to mess around with his cool new staff, anyway.

He opened the door to the viewing room, seeing Clockwork floating in front of the time screens, his back to Danny. Each screen showed a different era, from regency London to 80’s Japan. Danny had gotten a lot better at identifying time periods after he’d started hanging out at Long Now more, but it was weird that he could tell where the screens were showing. None of the scenes had specific landmarks, or people. He just…knew.

Probably due to his new staff, and title, now that he thought about it.

Clockwork turned, a small smile on his face as he faced Danny.

“I trust you’re satisfied with your staff and new powers, then?”

He sounded fond, exactly like he did when Danny managed to finish a homework problem he’d been struggling with, or like he did when Danny showed up to vent after a long day.

It became very clear, in that moment, that Clockwork knew everything. And that he had known this would happen for a while, maybe even since- since their first meeting.

He was the Master of Time, after all.

Danny drifted closer, watching Clockwork carefully.

“Why?”

He figured Clockwork had more than enough context to work out what he meant.

Clockwork hummed slightly “You’ve already worked out you are the Master of Space, yes?”

Danny nodded, before adding “I don’t know what it means, though. I know you’re the Master of Time-“

Danny cut himself off, a realization hovering at the edges of his thoughts.

The Master of Time. And the Master of Space.

Space-Time.

“I see you’ve figured it out, Daniel. The Realms needs both a Master of Space and a Master of Time, to be truly stable.” Clockwork said, turning back to his time screens.

Danny floated over to stand next to him.

“As you’ve seen, and participated in, my duty is to keep the Timeline running in the correct way, and to make sure things work out as they’re supposed to. But I am limited in directly interacting with the events I see, and limited in my abilities to intervene in any that need to change.”

Danny frowned. He’d thought that was all due to the Observants, but the way Clockwork was talking-

“The Realms choose the Masters, and I was chosen due to already having a strong connection to time, the ability to see the past and future. Though, I must admit, much of my current powers are due to my staff.” Clockwork continued, gesturing vaguely at the time screens.

Danny tilted his head slightly. The traveling in time, and stopping it, were because of the staff? He’d assumed that the staff was an extension of Clockwork’s powers, rather than the source-

Though, of course, his own staff was the source of his new powers.

“So, why was I chosen? I don’t really have any ‘Space-y’ powers, not without the staff.” Danny asked, shifting so he could see Clockwork’s face.

Clockwork smiled “I am getting to that, Daniel. The point is that it was simple, comparatively, for the Realms to choose me. Choosing the Master of Space is, was, much harder.”

Clockwork turned, floating over to be closer to one of the time screens, which shifted as Danny watched.

He flinched as it resolved into an image of the beginning of the portal accident, Sam and Tucker watching as Danny stepped into the portal. The scene stayed frozen, thank the Ancients.

Danny hesitantly came closer. Clockwork wouldn’t bring this up if it wasn’t important.

“The Master of Space must have a strong connection to both the Infinite Realms, and the Mortal one. Most ghosts are connected to the Infinite Realms just by virtue of their nature, but for a ghost to be truly connected to the Mortal Realm, and not just lingering behind? It takes something special, miraculous.”

Clockwork turned to Danny, a serious look on his face “It takes a halfa.”

Danny blinked, processing that.

“But, wait, if it only takes a halfa-“ Danny cringed, unable to finish his sentence. He did not relish the idea of Vlad having the amount of power that Clockwork did, even if it was Space instead of Time.

The amount of power that Danny now had.

Clockwork chuckled, a fond look on his face.

“It’s not quite that simple, Daniel. There is one other requirement, that is the reason that none of the other halfas before you were chosen.”

Danny gave Clockwork a questioning look, receiving a smile in return.

“I was chosen first. The Master of Space, then, must be able to work with me, and I them. None of the other candidates before you were capable of that. But you were.” Clockwork said, no small amount of awe in his voice.

Danny shifted uncomfortably. It was really weird, having Clockwork be amazed by him. He didn’t like it. He preferred it when Clockwork was being cryptic and annoying, actually.

Or soft and fond, like he was sometimes.

Either of them was better than this.

Clockwork drew back, his face going back to a blank, knowing look.

“The two Masters work together to protect the Realms, Daniel. Time to guide, monitor, and correct the Timeline, and Space to correct the Realms themselves. Closing dangerous natural portals, fixing fractured lands, and manipulating any psychical aspects of Timeline maintenance.”

He let out an unneeded breath, one likely entirely for show and Danny’s benefit.

“The Realms need both of us, Daniel.” There was a desperation in his voice, one very close to the awe from earlier, if slightly bent out of shape.

Danny backed up a little, Clockwork’s intensity scaring him slightly.

This was really weird, seeing Clockwork anything but perfectly in control.

And this was a lot, but-

But.

He looked down at the staff, still clutched in his hand.

The staff felt right. The title of ‘Master of Space’ felt right. What Clockwork was saying, under the desperation, felt right.

Danny had to do it. It was his responsibility, his fate. Just like the voice, which he guessed had been the Realms, had said.

“I wouldn’t need to give up my life in Amity Park, right?” he asked, nervousness in his voice.

The look of relief on Clockwork’s face, undercut by fondness and love, is what cemented Danny’s decision.

 “Of course not, Daniel. It would help, in fact. Maintaining a strong connection to both planes is needed. All you would need to do is work with me.”

Danny took a deep breath, before looking Clockwork in the eyes, a smile on his face.

“Alright. I’ll do it.”

Clockwork returned the smile, and said “We have a lot of work to do, I admit.”

He waved a hand, shutting off the time screens.

“But we have Time.”

Danny couldn’t help himself.

 “And Space?” He asked.

Clockwork sighed, the smile still on his face.

“Yes, and Space.”

Danny grinned.

This was definitely one of the strangest things that had happened to him, including the whole Ghost King situation, but he had a feeling it was also going to be one of the best.

Clockwork opened the door out to the hallway, looking over at Danny as he did so.

“And Daniel? We will be starting with repairing that wall you broke.”

Danny groaned.

Of course they would be.

[snexy-the-snail]

Lazy blurb

“You’re an absolute guppy.” Triton murmurs, Percy rolling his eyes at the jab. “Guppy this, guppy that, you forget I’m not half fish like you so bleh.” He responds, shoving against the soft flesh pressing against him. He had gotten more used to this than he liked to admit. It had taken some time to get used to, but half the time he swore Triton sought him out specifically for this. “I'm not half anything, I am a God, and I look how I wish.” 

Percy crosses his arms, allowing the glowing organ to move him in a rocking motion. Despite everything it was...oddly calming. The stomach wasn’t overly warm, but it was enough that he felt comfortable, and there was liquid in there as well. He didn’t exactly want to think about exactly what he was breathing but it soothed his lungs, so he wasn’t going to complain.  

“And anyway, this is getting old, I can protect myself.” At least he could for the most part here. It was just actual sea monsters that had some weird vendetta against him. Which was a lot. He closes his eyes when the light brightens slightly, groaning in frustration. “Mhm, as you did against the kraken.” Triton responds, Percy could practically feel the sass in the god’s tone, kicking at a stomach fold in retaliation.  

The Kraken had caught him off guard, and besides it wasn’t like Triton could always use that. “It got you too, don’t even try that. I know dad took it out.” He whines crossing his arms. “Father helped yes, but I was fine by myself.” 

There was a pause, Triton tensing up slightly, the muscles around him clenching tightly. “Hey? What’s wrong?” Percy asks, squirming within the tight confines of the stomach. Everything was getting brighter too, which was mildly concerning. “Triton? What’s going on, is there- do you have to fight? Let me out.” He shifts, his hands trying to search upwards. Everything felt like it was falling, and the flesh tightened more around him, making him wheeze in surprise, the off feeling of being upside down and weightless making him kick his feet out of reflex. “Triton!” he screams, his nerves feeling like lightning under his skin. Something was attacking his brother, and he couldn't do anything. He couldn’t fight, or taunt or even be a lookout. “I’m fine Percy.” Triton responds, sounding a tad annoyed, the muscles around him relaxing. He felt off, like he was floating more than usual.  

“What the FUCK was that.” He hisses out, his hands flittering around the grooves in the stomach, pressing out. It was so terrifying being practically blind to the world outside, and that was starting to fuel the fire. “That was Father deciding I too needed to be held.” Triton grumbles, the movement becoming more disorienting for a moment as Triton probably righted himself. Then Poseidon spoke, only Percy had no idea what the god said, he sure as Hades felt it thought. The rumbling was like a storm, vibrating him to the core. He covers his ears out of reflex, his heart rapidly pumping. “What the fuck.” His voice shaky as he tried to process what the utter hell was going on.  

“Ah, I apologize. Father is not...exactly in his mortal form as of now.” At least Triton had the decency to sound sympathy. This whole thing was freaking Percy out. He thought he’d burn up in the presence of a god in their divine form... That's one thing that always stuck with him, no matter what. “How am I not sand right now?” He asks weakly, relieved when he felt a pressure against him, pressing into the touch with a slight whine.  

There was another deep rumble as their dad no doubt said something but he was more focused on Triton. Focusing on the rush of the salt water into the gods lungs, the steady studding of his heart, and hell even the stomach noises were becoming a comfort. “He’s alright, I’m careful- I did try to warn you.” Triton murmurs, Percy leaning further into the gentle rubbing his brother was providing. “Father didn’t mean to frighten you; he was unaware you were tucked away.”  

“He ate you- he ATE oh...he ate me too- he double ate.” Percy cuts off curling into the stomach walls. This was a lot. The whole eating thing had been a surprise to begin with, but the fact that he was in two gods was absolutely insane. He swallows thickly, wincing when more rumbling vibrated the space he was in only...it sounded...vaguely familiar. It wasn’t really- was this a song? It sounded like a song, the words were extended.  

Soon Triton started as well, the words sounding more like words. He slowly uncurls, taking a shaking breath in as he forced on the sounds. It was...a different language, that was for sure, and he could make out a few words. The rumbling with the actual words was actually...comforting.  

“...Alright...alright...it’s fine. I'm okay.” He mumbles after a feel verses, resting more comfortably. He was still safe, he was just...more safe. He sits up more, bringing his legs to his chest. “Just a bit...overwhelming?”  

[askshivanulegacy]

By "weird elbow things," you mean the same ones pictured below? Which are a normal part of a full suit of armor, as the equipment of a professional soldier that made total sense and people did really actually wear?

Which also looks like shiny metal, like aluminum happens to be? If you've ever seen full plate armor in person it looks like this. And yes, absolutely as opposed to the comparatively piecemeal armor that Eowyn wears. Galadriel has a professional and well-equipped soldier's uniform. It looks on point, considering fantasy elements. Eowyn has a different set of armor produced by a different people centuries removed, with different resources, which also has its own fantasy elements. It's super weird to compare the two as equivalent. Even in LOTR the elves were depicted as having better and more complete armor, which Galadriel does.

And it goes without saying that Elrond has more than one outfit, as does everyone else in the series, and they look amazing with incredible detail. It's not noteworthy that one of his many outfits has plain colors. Also, it's being compared to nothing at all.

Back to my point that if you're trying to use those images to say that costume design in ROP is "bad," your argument is superficial and you've failed. Also, you didn't actually watch ROP. It takes more than one really badly chosen comparison to make a point about costume design.

the decrease in costuming quality over the last 20 years has been soooo precipitous & nauseating. i’m not even talking abt marvel’s cg supersuits or anything this time, look at the fabric quality, structure, layering, character, and craftsmanship of older costumes in 102 dalmations (2000) vs cruella (2021)

ever after (1998) vs cinderella (2021)

lord of the rings (2001-2003) vs the rings of power (2022)

this trend should upset you not just because it looks cheap, but because it suggests a strong anti-art and anti-labor movement in film and tv making. don’t forget costumers are unionized

[beanghostprincess]

"Kuina's death is ridiculous" yes! That's the point! You do realize that falling down the stairs is a way of showing Zoro how fragile human lives are, right? You are aware that the point of Kuina's character is the unfairness of the world towards women in comparison to the privileges men have, like living in itself and fulfilling their dreams, right? You know that Kuina's death is "ridiculous and dumb" because it's meant to show that even the strongest person Zoro knew could die from something so little, right? You understand that the value Zoro gives to life is fucking immense, right? Right?? You realize Zoro can't seek revenge because nobody took her away from him and now the only thing he can do is become the world's greatest swordsman to avenge her death, right? You get that Zoro's character is an atheist because he doesn't believe in anyone and he can only rely on himself when it comes to Kuina's sudden death, right? You are aware that sometimes people die in the simplest of ways and that doesn't make them weak because death doesn't discriminate, right? You know that all of these things are what make Zoro's character so interesting and important, right? Right??? You know, right?

Well, of course you fucking don't because if you knew you wouldn't be saying her death is ridiculous <3

[alchemania]

Finally got enough energy to talk about Furina's SQ and while I loved her and the troupe, MC and Paimon were .... Not Great. I talked about this with friends but in Paimon's case especially, the way they interact with Furina feels like people who just don't understand trauma and depression and then engage with someone suffering from both in all the wrong ways.

Talking about how much of a downgrade her house is from the opera house, making fun of how she can't cook, pushing her to act when she's set a very clear boundary and then guilt tripping her after she's stuck to her guns, shaming her for not being able to fight well (Paimon literally talks about how second hand embarrassment is overwhelming and I'm just like ?????), telling her she's "not acting like herself" when she attempts to open up and be vulnerable....it's just really rough. That and the MC asking "is something wrong" when Furina gets sad over Poission ..like bro people died and she couldn't save them and she's tearing herself apart over it. Those people are never coming back and you know it and you have the gall to ask her is something wrong??? Of COURSE there is!!

It just feels especially odd because we literally get to see all of Furina's suffering and Paimon in particular is. SO mean? Like she was more understanding with Wanderer and Ei and THEY'VE tried to kill us multiple times!! I don't get it, and honestly I'm very proud of Furina for refusing to waver. Let her rest!! She's tired and depressed and she needs time to heal; and honestly fuck Paimon for trying to make her feel bad. Furina's worked harder than she EVER will.

[horsegirlhob]

Honestly the worst thing about being raised by and around professors is that I can't really do the whole students bitching about professors thing even when I mostly agree with it, because my whole life I have been hearing the professor's side of the story. Every time someone talks about how ridiculous mandatory attendance or participation is there's a part of me that starts loudly protesting about how actually being in class is really important for learning, and it must be so hugely frustrating for the professor when students just don't show up to your class half the time and then when they do show up they're playing sudoku on their computer.

[possamble]

realizing im kind of a weirdo about laios and marcille