#so i hope it made sense lol

[honorhearted]

Why not leave this life behind?

Fantine's words haunted Benjamin long into the night, shrouding him like a cloak of darkness. Why not leave, he wondered? He was doing this for a friend, yes, but was he truly serving any real purpose here in France?

No, he realized. He could never leave. The ghosts of his failures -- of his men and friends -- clung to him like tendrils of seaweed, pulling him down, down, down into the briny depths of his despair. So much so that Benjamin awoke from his futile sleep with a sharp gasp of breath, jerking upright onto his elbows and drawing air into his lungs with several short, shallow pants.

It's not real, he reassured himself. None of this is real...

But it was. God, it was! He had failed his friends, and he had failed his men, and now some of them were lost to him in mind, if not spirit; the guilt was always exceptionally crushing to him in the dark of night.

Realizing that his bedding had tangled around his legs, Benjamin frantically kicked himself free and half-rolled, half-fell out of bed, his weight catching against his palms before he shakily stumbled to his feet. Out, out, he needed to get out!

Practically ripping the door off its hinges, Benjamin barreled out into the hallway, his bare feet padding briskly across the cool hardwood flooring. His path was illuminated by a few candles in sconces, and just as he reached the end of the corridor, he gave a soft cry once he thudded into a familiar figure.

"Fantine," he choked, hating how weak and strangled his voice sounded. Head swirling with the dizzying, nauseating blend of his past versus the present, he swallowed back bile and exhaled. "Are you lost?"

She looked waifish and small -- far more-so than usual -- and holding his hands aloft, if only to prove his intent of no harm, he awkwardly gestured and said, "I was just...taking a walk."

Clearly, neither of them were just enjoying the hallway. There was a strange pallor to Fantine's face, and taking a step back, if only to give her proper room to breathe, Benjamin asked, "I could call for someone, if you'd like? To fetch you a glass of water, milk, or rum?"

"More like a warning parents use for their daughters. An example of what not to do." There was no equivalent for their sons; the worst they could do was marry beneath their station— it was more noble to leave women like herself behind and uphold the family name and reputation. Of course, it was always the woman's fault.

It scared her, to think about learning to read. How much of what she had paid to be read to her was accurate, or did the scrivener take her for a fool, too? She still had the letters from the Thénardiers. Curiosity would make her wish to read them herself, regardless of whether or not it was a good idea. "Why not leave this life behind?" she asked, puzzled by what appeared to be the man's dislike of spying. "Return to teaching— it clearly makes you happier than whatever this charade does."

His brushing off of her apology was expected, but she would leave it for now. Emotions were high despite the weariness making eyelids heavy. "I think whatever book you suggest will work. After all, I can't say I'm particularly knowledgeable about enjoyable reads."

Fantine allowed herself to burrow further down into the blankets, her head resting against pillows she was sure must be duck feathers or similar. Her arms pulled Cosette into her, her nose buried against the girl's hair as if trying to memorise her scent should they be parted again. "Thank you. Not just for that, but her. Goodnight, Monsieur."

_________________________________________

Of course, she wished for nothing more than to greet a climbing sun at dawn, but despite luxury comforts, Fantine woke with a jolt. Any benefits of her bath had been undone in sweat; she fought blankets off skin as the few, remaining feeling of fingers around wrists lingered from her dreams.

Cosette remained sleeping, thankfully unaware of her mother's night terrors. She has thought, foolishly so, that once she had left that life then it would no longer have any power over her.

Instead, she remained statuesque, her breath shallow as if waiting for a man to take her unaware.

Eventually, she managed to move frozen limbs. With a kiss to Cosette's forehead, Fantine allowed bare feet to find the floor. It was her only comfort; the only tether to this world and not succumbing to the horrors of the subconscious. And so she walked, out of her bedroom and along silent corridors. She had realised too late that doing such would be a mistake— she wasn't sure she'd find her way back to the correct room, but at least for now she could concentrate on the ground beneath her feet.

[mosovi-vian]

And I will stay alive for my future self, so they can one day learn to be kind to who I was as a child. And I will teach them to honor who we used to be, so they can remember the comfort of what once was our untempered flesh and gentle soul. Me and myself are each a fresh wound and a rough scab, bearing respectively the gift of green faith and honed will.

This has been in my draft for a while because I was determined to post this only after I knew what I should write underneath it. I’ve read a lot on the concept of healing the wounded inner child since even before my c-ptsd diagnosis. However, I’ve sought as much comfort in my little self as they had in me. Looking back, I was an impressively emotionally-intuitive kid. I remember well how I used to think, the things I would write to my future self; they were wiser and gentler than I could ever hope to be as an adult. Needless to say, the little poem above is inspired by the aforementioned experience. Sure, big me is armed with a more developed pre-frontal cortex and access to invaluable resources (coping mechanisms, therapy, on and offline communities) , but I struggle to rediscover/reinvent my identity. Little me was the biggest vestige of my lost personhood. So yeah, this might be just a huge self-indulgent projection with my favorite character, but thinking that post-S3 Hunter would also be in my shoes is not completely baseless. 16yrs old Hunter is the fresh wound (a lot of things happened before his teen years, but I’m going to interpret the events of Hollow Mind - which happened when Hunter was 16 - as the ultimate boiling point in his trauma timeline, hence the ‘fresh wound') and 20yrs old Hunter is the rough scab. Each version of Hunter could be dealing with a different set of trauma-induced symptoms. I think his loyalty to Belos kept him going as a child. Being doubtless was important to Hunter back then; it held his sense of self together. And maybe when he survived and was rewarded the time and space to grow into his own person and live for himself, there was this lasting emptiness. I feel this sort of emptiness even today. My only reference of what ‘wholeness’ felt like was when I was obedient to my family. I equated self-abandonment as the righteous norm. The symptoms I deal with today are definitely different from when I was Hunter’s age pre-time-skip. Now that Hunter is in a safe space and an adult post-time skip, he might also need to seek that strength from his younger self. Reminding himself of how far he’s come and the parts of him that he'd like to keep from his past. The parts that he knows in his bones are purely his - not instilled by Belos, not inherited from Caleb.

[yardsards]

laios when his party needed more members:

[hoonatic]

sunday mornings | park sunghoon x reader

prompt: sunday mornings are best spent slowly. but there are sheets to be changed and a beautiful boyfriend to stare at. pairing: idol!sunghoon x reader (established relationship) genre: domestic fluff + some hurt/comfort. it was only supposed to be tooth-rotting sweetness, but the sad demons within me won a bit, i fear. word count: 1364 note: this was also supposed to be shorter than it is, but what can i say? i’m a yapper. (also can’t believe i’m writing a fic again but needed to get this one out i guess) enjoy!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the sun had risen, but you certainly hadn’t.

after weeks apart, you finally had your boyfriend back in your shared apartment, in your shared bed. it was a sunny, summer morning with no (real) responsibilities to take care of. you were happy, drowsy, and with the love of your life. you just wanted to bask in the moment.

“baby, get up. i need to change the sheets.”

sunghoon obviously did not share the sentiment.

you ignored the slight tugging at your sleeve, choosing to flail your body and turning back to him dramatically. you knew you’d regret that soon enough, given the unhinged level of impatience your boyfriend had. but if it got you a few more seconds of peace, then so be it.

a loud screech of your name and one “wake upppp!!!” later, you felt the regret seeping into every pore of your body.

“hoon, it’s so early. please…”

“it’s almost 9:30. i’ve already showered and i’m all ready to spend the day with you!”

as you continued to ignore him, the tugging became more and more aggressive. soon enough, you felt your entire upper body being lifted. but two could play the petty game - you kept your eyes shut, refusing to look at the thief stealing your sleep.

“baby, how could you rob me of seeing your beautiful eyes?”

“i dunno, maybe the same way you’re robbing me of my beauty rest???”

“beauty rest??? if you get any more beautiful, i’ll have to start dressing you in full-body armor.”

the cringe made you peek open an eye, “you’ve been spending way too much time with heeseung.” but all you could see was his big grin.

“maybe so, but it finally got you to open your eyes, so the full-body chills saying that gave me were worth it.”

“hoon,” you groaned and closed your eyes again, “i just changed the sheets last week. i can change them tomorrow or something if you really want. you don’t want to just laze around together today?”

he didn’t respond as quickly as you’d expect. the silence forced your eyes open - he was biting his lip and staring at you with an unreadable expression. but before you could ask what was wrong, he spoke first,

“that’s exactly it though…”

“what do you mean?” you were fully awake now.

“you spend enough time alone, maintaining this home,” he started, “i’m away all the time and i haven’t been able to help out. this is one of the rare chances to finally start pulling my weight around here. please let me have this?”

you could start to see the guilt swimming around in his eyes and you hated it. “hoon, you act like you’re a deadbeat boyfriend leaving me to do everything alone. baby, you have a job that you love, are amazing at, and that pays our bills. if that means i have to do the sheets, that’s okay.” 

“but you have a job too.”

“because i’m stupid and want to work. seriously hoon, don’t let these things bother you. you give me everything and more than i could ever ask for. we are in this together.” you were stroking his cheek at this point. seemingly satisfied with your response, he nuzzled into your hand, grateful for the comfort.

“are you feeling a little better at least?” you asked, voice patient and hopeful. he nodded and turned to kiss your palm, making you giggle a bit at the ticklish contact. he then shook his dark hair, damp locks lightly spraying you before suddenly pulling you out of bed.

“i’m feeling amazing and like i can take on the world…which includes these bedsheets! now get up so i can change them quickly and spend the rest of the day spoiling you with the love and affection you’ve been starved of.”

you wanted to argue with his statement and accuse him of tricking you out of bed, but knew you shouldn’t. you understood him more than anyone in the world, so you were going to give him this…even if the bed was really, really warm.

so you got up completely, choosing to stand closely in case you could help in any way. but his notorious stubbornness fought you off, gently swatting your hand any time you tried to pry the fitted sheet up.

“baby,” he scowled at you while holding a pillow, “just stand there and look pretty. let your big ol’ boyfriend take care of this for you.”

“big???” you almost saw the moon with how far you rolled your eyes. “your biceps grow half a millimeter and suddenly you–” before you could finish your statement, you felt the impact of the pillow to your face.

“hey!”

“that’s not what your stickers were saying whenever i sent gym selfies to you.”

damn, he got you there. you kept your mouth shut, glaring at his laughing silhouette while he continued to move about. choosing peace, you decided to let that go and finally take the chance to admire your boyfriend.

not only were his arms looking magnificent with every movement he made to change the sheets, but you could just tell how he poured his heart into everything he did. from the bedsheets to his career, he never half-heartedly did anything. he was humming their latest comeback song as he took on the folding of the fitted sheet, and his pride in his passion radiated off of every cell in his body. you were so proud of him, and you could feel your own body almost burst out of pure affection.

after a few minutes, the used sheets and pillowcases were all neatly in his arms, ready for the washer. you giggled a bit before speaking, “leave it to you to make even dirty sheets look clean. i’ll start setting up the new sheets.”

you could tell he wanted to argue, but he knew better.

while he got the washer running, you finished putting down your fluffiest comforter - you had bought it while he was away. you wanted him to have the best during the well-deserved time off he had.

“hoon!” you cheered excitedly when you saw him approaching the doorway. dragging him to sit down in the middle, “try out the new sheets! i bought them for when you came back!”

sunghoon ran his hands across it and patted them a few times for good measure. wordlessly, he grabbed you by the waist and settled your body between his legs. he hugged you loosely, yet lovingly, staring up at you with his chin on your torso.

“thank you, i love you.” such simple, yet meaningful words. you felt butterflies in every corner of your soul.

after a few more comforting seconds of him playing with the hem of your shirt, fingers lightly dancing across the skin that peeked out from under it, you decided to have a bit more fun. 

you quickly took his hands off your back and pushed him to lay back into the bed. you grabbed both sides of the comforter and wrapped him up in it. the best part of it all? he just let you do it, purposely laying limp with a big, curious grin on his face.

“there!” you exclaimed, jumping onto the blanket burrito that was your boyfriend, “now you’re trapped with me forever.”

“it’s not being trapped if i want to be here.” with only his face free, sunghoon smiled up at you, fangs practically piercing your heart with love. you became too flustered to speak, so you took revenge on him instead, planting kisses all over his face.

for a second, you thought he’d shy away a bit. but instead he stuck his head out even more, turning his face to give your lips more access to any piece of untouched skin. you took advantage and continued to give loud, happy pecks, your hands squishing his face. he was finally basking in the moment you had been begging him to all morning, happiness reaching the crinkles of his eyes.

yes, the eventual tour would come soon enough to steal him away. but for now, you were content. for now, this sunday morning was for just you and him.

[luxaofhesperides]

Can I please have meet cute/weird with mistaken villain! Danny (but really just a engineer and or chem student) and the one being put on investigation cause Danny is a day villain(not really)! Duke

Technically, Danny Fenton is innocent. Technically. 

Duke wants to give him the benefit of the doubt, especially since he’s having so much trouble finding solid evidence that Danny is stealing from a wide variety of people, but he’s been burned before by trying to see people as better than they were. It doesn’t change the fact that Oracle’s cameras keep spotting Danny right before a building on the street is broken into and something stolen. He’s always just walking down the sidewalk; no one has spotted him entering or exiting a building, but he’s around far too often to be unconnected to these burglaries. 

It doesn’t help that strange, petty crimes have been on the rise since Danny first arrived in Gotham. 

So.

Danny Fenton is technically innocent.

Duke is trying to prove that he’s not. 

Maybe I’m looking too closely, he thinks, going over Danny’s sparse file in the Hatch. Maybe Danny’s only one person in a bigger operation.

He could just be the lookout, the runner, the information gatherer who marks which buildings to hit. He may even be the scapegoat, the sacrificial lamb; Danny has no support in Gotham, no family, no job. There would be no one to help him if he got arrested or injured in a fight. He’s a freshman college student from Illinois who should be unprepared for life in Gotham but is somehow managing to survive like a native. 

There’s a lot about Danny that doesn’t add up. 

Duke has seen plenty of different people since he first went out as the Signal. He’s tried to be kind and give people the benefit of the doubt, but it leads to his loved ones being put in danger. Some people are truly evil, some working on a malicious agenda, some are misguided in their beliefs, and some are desperate people who see no other way to move forward.

He’s not sure yet which on Danny is, but he’s hoping Danny is just desperate and needs a little help to get out of a life of crime.

Which leads to the next problem: Duke has no idea what Danny is steal, or why. He hits both rich and poor folks, civilians and members of the mob, and once, notably, stole something right out of Cobblepot’s office. Allegedly, at least, since no one saw him enter or exit the office, not even the security cameras. 

But added to the whispers going around about a new group in Gotham snatching people up from the streets, and some strange green substances found in warehouses often raided by police for the frequent drug labs that pop up in them… 

It doesn’t look good for Danny. Especially when a few of the items he stole were found where people either vanished or where that green substance has been found.

A week of analysis in the Batcave and they still don’t know what it is. 

Both Damian and Jason suspected Lazarus water, but the composition was completely different. By the look of the molecular structure, it shouldn’t have been in a liquid form at all. 

All these findings lead back to one person who may have answers: Danny Fenton.

According to Tim, who’s already broken into Danny’s dorm room and checked over all the labs he has classes in, Danny has some concerning items in his possession. Various inventions and little metal knick-knacks put together by a practiced hand. He was also the one to find all the information that went into Danny’s file when it was first being made: social media posts, school report cards, news articles about his parents… everything. 

And then he had an emergency mission to take with the Titans that swept him out of Gotham leaving Duke to tackle this investigation on his own. 

He doesn’t have Tim’s natural skill in stalking and invading privacy. He hates breaking into people’s spaces and following them around, but needs must and he has to force himself to work through the discomfort. 

It’s a good thing he did, too. Danny’s leaving his dorm after his last afternoon class, hood up to hide his face and something held in the front pocket of his hoodie. He ducks around people on the sidewalk easily, almost as if he’s gliding through the crowd instead of walking. 

Duke follows from above, bending the light around him to hide him from sight. 

He walks for some time, weaving through alleys and streets as if he’s been in Gotham his whole life, leaving behind the university campus to head towards Otisberg. There’s something strange about the way Danny walks, as if he’s moving around people who aren’t there, guided by something Duke can’t hear. Even using his meta abilities doesn’t do much beyond show him where Danny’s going to be in the next few seconds. 

He continues to follow Danny on the rooftops, walking along the edge to keep him in sight. 

Then Danny stops behind an apartment building and tilts his head back to look up at it. He tilts his head to the side, then nods and looks around the empty alley. Duke crouches down, keeping his eyes on Danny in the hopes of catching him in the act—

Danny disappears.

Duke curses under his breath and jumps down from the roof, putting more strength into his abilities as soon as his feet touch the ground. 

The space where Danny was has a faint outline, oddly enough. He’s never seen that before. From it is a semi-transparent trail, smoke-like and a pale green leading into the building. It goes straight into a wall, as if Danny walked through it.

He can’t go in and search the entire apartment, but he can grapple up and take a look into the hallways to see where Danny’s heading. If he was looking up, then that’s where he should be heading. 

It doesn’t take any effort to scale the building. There are ledges and windowsills and plenty of handholds for him to propel himself off of, and paired with his powers, Duke is able to find the correct floor in just under two minutes. 

The green smoke slowly dances through the air of the ninth floor, on the east side of the building. If he’s been counting the rooms correctly, then the target of tonight’s burglary has to be apartment 924. 

The curtains are drawn on the window he makes his way over to, and his abilities don’t show him anything helpful for the immediate future. He hates going in blind, especially to a civilian’s home, but capturing Danny takes priority. Duke picks the lock and slides the window up slowly, making sure it stays quiet, then slips into an empty bedroom. 

He makes his way out into the hallway on silent feet, keeping a wary eye on the thin smoke strands of green, curling along the walls. The rest of the apartment is empty as well, pale sunlight slanting across the floor through the blinds. 

Everything is still and silent. Danny’s nowhere to be found. 

Did he miss Danny leaving, somehow? Was this a misdirect to get him out of the way while Danny stole from another location? Did he know Duke was following him?

But no, his ears pick up on the faint sound of clothes rustling. 

Cautiously, Duke turns towards the front door, where the door to the coat closet is open. He focuses on what’s going to happen in the next twenty seconds and sees Danny panic, then disappear from sight again, but a transparent outline of his body is visible just enough to show him where he runs to. Best not to spook him; Duke pulls at the light around him and bends it to hide him from sight.

Then he moves along the wall, getting around the open door without bumping into anyone or anything. 

A figure in front of the coats, shoving them to the side roughly, flickers in and out of view, almost like a reflection in water, distorted by ripples on the surface. 

Danny pops back into visibility suddenly, scowling at the coats. “Are you sure it’s in here?” he asks the empty air. 

There is no answer, but Danny acts like there is. He rolls his eyes and says, “It’s a favor. That I’m doing for you. I can literally stop right now and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.” He shoves aside another heavy winter coat, then sighs. “Why don’t you look for it, and then tell me where it is.”

He steps back and bumps into Duke.

Danny whirls around, eyes wide, and blast of green light has Duke crashing back into the wall, trying to blink spots out of his eyes. 

“Wait!” he yells, grabbing for Danny before he can run off. “I just wanna talk!”

“Standing right behind me like a serial killer does not make you look like someone who wants to talk!” Danny yells back, slipping through his hands like mist. 

“I just have a few questions!”

“Well, I have a question: why?!”

“Will you hold still, we’re being too loud!”

Danny escapes to the other side of the apartment, next to a window looking fully prepared to fling himself out of it. But he does stop yelling, so Duke is counting it as a success.

“Why is the Signal coming after me?” Danny asks, glaring at him suspiciously.

“Dude,” Duke says, “You’ve been seen outside of every single building that’s had a burglary since you first arrived in Gotham. All the Bats are after you, they just sent me because I’m the only one active during the day.”

“All the Bats?” Danny repeats, losing what little color he had in his face.

He looks legitimately scared, pale enough to be concerning, and Duke drops his guard and tries to relax the tension in the apartment. “I’m not gonna turn you into the cops or anything. I just had questions and you seem like the most likely person to have answers. That’s it.”

Danny still looks wary, ready to run at a moment’s notice, but he doesn’t leave when Duke approached casually, leaning his weight against the couch. 

“So,” he begins, “What’s the deal with all the thievery? It’s rarely something super rare or expensive.”

There’s a long few minutes where Danny doesn’t answer, looking anywhere but at Duke. Then he twitches a bit and glares off to the side, and says, “I taking items that are contaminated with ectoplasm to help ghosts move through the veil and leave Gotham.”

That tells him nothing! That just gives Duke more questions! But at least it’s an answer, the first one any of them have got.

“I think you’re gonna have to explain a little more.”

“Ghosts are real, alright?”

“Yes.”

Danny stops. Squints at him. “What do you mean, ‘yes’?”

“Ghosts are real,” Duke repeats, “There are a few who help heroes or are heroes themselves, but that’s more on the magic side of things so I’m not super familiar with it.”

“Magic,” Danny says slowly. “Sure, alright. Um. Yes, ghosts are real. And there are a ton in Gotham who need help moving on, but they’re too weak to get past the veil. Something about Gotham has made the veil super strong, so they need a little boost to get through. Additional ectoplasm bonded helps with that.”

“And that’s why you’re stealing random things?”

“The ghosts I help can kind of sense ectoplasm-infused things, but they need me to grab them since they can’t hold anything without a physical body.”

Duke nods slowly. “Okay, that’s starting to answer some things. We have found those objects in the last places missing people were seen. Any idea what’s going on with that?”

“Yeah, those people were already dead.”

The way Danny says the most concerning answers as if they’re nothing is really throwing Duke off his game. He was expecting to be calm and serious to keep Danny from freaking out too much and look like a legitimate hero. But as soon as Danny started talking, all his nerves fell away and Duke is left grasping for composure. 

“They were…”

“They were ghosts, yeah. And they needed to get through the veil. But they were also able to possess their own bodies and didn’t realize they were dead until I had to break the news to them, which is why it looks like living people just up and disappeared.”

“Okay… What about the green stuff we’ve been finding?”

“Ectoplasm.” Danny holds up a hand and a neon green light surrounds it. Except it looks more solid than light, as if it can be touched, and it moves on its own like fire around Danny’s fingers. “It’s what ghosts are made of.”

Oh. If Danny has ectoplasm, does that mean…

“Are you dead?” Duke asks, heart dropping. 

Instead of looking upset about the question, or even disturbed by it, Danny just shrugs and waves his hand back and forth. “A little.”

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” Duke says, trying to resist the urge to rub his temples. It’s a habit he didn’t mean to pick up from Batman, and it would just look silly with his helmet in the way. “You’re just doing all this to help ghosts?”

“Yeah. Basically. They asked for help man, of course I was going to help them.”

Danny’s a good person. He’s just a good person to ghosts. But this is good news either way, and he can let the others know that Danny isn’t the next Catwoman and is entirely unconnected from any drug production. Everything that made him look like a criminal is just the fault of ghosts. 

“Speaking of,” Danny continues, “Looks like they found what they need, so I’m going to grab that real quick.” He pushes off of the wall and heads for the closet again, moving past Duke without any fear. Duke follows, keeping a few feet of distance between them so Danny doesn’t feel trapped, and watches as he shoves aside the coats again and pulls a shoebox out of the depths of the closet. From it, he takes a single intricate lace headband and holds it up.

It looks normal, if a little old, but when Danny sends ectoplasm through it, the lace lights up and holds the glow. 

He pulls some strange contraption out of his pocket and holds it up to the headband. It makes a few beeps, then Danny mutters, “7.4 millisieverts. That’s enough to get you through the veil.”

Another concern Duke can let go of: Danny’s not creating weapons like his parents have, he’s just measuring ectoplasm through his own inventions. 

Maybe he could talk to Bruce or Tim about getting Danny an internship at the R&D lab in Wayne Enterprises? That way they could keep a closer eye on him while seeing what he can create in some of the best laboratories in the country.

Well, it might take having them meet Danny before they trust him enough for that, but Duke is sure he can make it happen. 

“I better go see this through, then,” Danny says, shoving the contraption back into his hoodie pocket. He gives Duke a small awkward wave, then pops out of visibility. “I’ll see you around, I guess?” he disembodied voice hedges, and Duke smiles.

“I’m sure I’ll be able to find you again.”

“Cool. I gonna go now!” 

He doesn’t see any sign that Danny’s left, but he gets a feeling that he’s alone now, the apartment suddenly emptier than it was before. 

As strange and concerning as Danny and all his bizarre actions were, Duke is glad he was able to finally talk to him and get some answers. Knowing how Gotham pulls people him in, it’s only a matter of time before the other Bats are exposed to Danny’s kind of strange. He’s already looking forward to it. 

For now, though, he has a file to update in the Hatch; POTENTIAL THREAT will be removed and replaced with GHOST HELPER. 

If anyone goes snooping into his files and gets confused, then that’s their problem. Duke’s explained enough. And Danny can take care of the rest, once they go through the effort of tracking him down. Duke's done his part, he's ready for the rest of them to step up to his level.

He can’t wait to see what other kind of trouble Danny can get it into.

[luna-loveboop]

'I've never been in a dungeon before' and 'Who's Ganon?' have literally made some of the BEST reaction panels in Lu I just-

They are very similar conversations- where a Link is pointing out/asking about something that the others have experienced and they haven't. Which is really cool to compare and contrast but they all just freak out about it

Genuinely some of the best conversations in Lu

The lesson here is that apparently the Links will always be freaked out when one of them has missed out on one of the Zelda Fundamentals™

.

Art by Jojo @linkeduniverse au :)

[puppyeared]

personal character design headcanons + brainrot

Note: the re-bound!au does NOT belong to me, it belongs to @chipper-smol I’m just not normal about it lol

[ace-and-ranty]

My one contribution to the Goncharov Phenomena is, I’ve seen people comment on how Tumblr only managed to have a nuanced conversation about a piece of media when the piece of media doesn’t exist, but...

I can’t help but think. It just isn’t the same people.

The people who bother to make memes examining the complexity of Goncharov are the same people who enjoy examining the complexity of actual media, who have been here doing that forever, who already knew how to handle a subtle take.

It’s just that the people who would usually come crashing in and derail the whole thing aren’t saying anything, because, well, faking nuanced interpretation is fun for its own sake, but faking moral outrage isn’t. 

I don’t think it’s so much that Tumblr finally learned how to handle a nuanced take, I think it’s more that the fakeness of Goncharov automatically filters out people who can’t  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[turtleblogatlast]

Don’t think I ever quite said what my LGBTQ+ headcanons are for the boys, so these are my current thoughts! Always changing of course but this is what I feel most strongly right now.

[oatmealcrisp-freak]

"shipping saiki is aphobic because he's aroace!"

stares at you with my demiromantic asexual in a committed relationship eyes then looks at the camera like im in the office

[aurorangen]

For how long will I have to live with this pain?

Transcript:

[Starting high school was a fresh start for me. I met new people and my best friends were by my side. I made lots of happy memories and forgot the bad things from primary school. It was all perfect when it began]

[That day, it started like any other day until I got to school. I was met with staring eyes and whispering voices. Talks about a missing person. Kingsley? Could he be related to Ashton Kingsley? 4 months have passed since the shed incident and we never talked about him at home. I hadn't thought about him in a while]

[Billy drove me home after school and I asked about the missing person case. The man was Dr Anton Boerescu and he showed me the newspaper, it was that doctor again. He kept quiet about my dad when he talked though. I was reading the article then looked up and saw an undercover police car parked on my house drive]

Police Officer: Payton Wilkinson, you are under arrest for the murder of Ashton Kingsley-

[My heart was racing and I was too stunned to speak. I couldn't understand what was happening. Billy tried to take control of the situation, demanding details as he recognised the officers from the other station]

[I wanted to run to my mum, but I was stopped and I froze at the sight. All I could see was her shaking while being handcuffed, crying and denying the accusations. I could hear Billy contacting his chief: he had no power]

Payton: [begging] Please! I would never do such a thing! Billy take care of Vincent! Make sure nothing-

[I was so scared: the police were arresting her for murder. I didn't know what to believe and started suspecting my own mother. The times she didn't seem like her usual self, if she was at work while I was at school, how much she despised him, why she has never mentioned his name. I fell to my knees. She couldn't have, could she?]

[my-coven-is-claudia]

after sleeping on the latest anniversary special i think i’m at peace with the whole bi-generation thing because it does something i don’t think it would’ve been able to do if it was executed in any other way. it allows the show to move the fuck on.

nuwho began with this mysterious sense that something bad happened. that this man, this alien, is filled with guilt and pain from something terrible. that theme of a horrible anguish being thinly veiled under a witty, dorky shield has been consistent throughout every incarnation of the doctor since. it’s a brilliant piece of characterisation but the doctor always being weighed down by this insurmountable grief i think was always going to hold the show back eventually. tragedy is inherent to doctor who but when does it become hard to believe that the main character is somehow able to continue on after everything they’ve gone through. what effect would this have on the audience, especially long-term fans? letting go of past companions and doctors is something that doctor who fans are notoriously bad at and i just wonder if it would become too much for the show to handle at one point. but now it won’t anymore.

bi-generation allows the doctor to heal from everything they’ve gone through whilst still being able to barrel into the next adventure. there’s a million theories on where 14 will end up but i think what matters the most is that the doctor is finally happy. not in a temporary, tenuous state of thrill that will only last until the start of the next episode or when the next threat appears around the corner but truly happy. unlike in previous versions of this story where the doctor gets an impossible happy ending which we never get to see onscreen (e.g. tentoo settling down with rose) we are actually going to witness 15 be joyful and alive, no longer held down by what’s come before. a fresh start almost. not to say that the time war or the flux were so horrific that the doctor never could’ve gotten over them but i don’t think the doctor healing would’ve been believable without him literally splitting in two, allowing him time to breathe and slow down as 14 whilst untethering him from the past and allowing him to fully spread his wings as 15. it’s not a perfect conclusion to this era (and discussions on whether bi-generation undermined ncuti’s entrance and role as THE doctor are completely valid) but i’m ultimately glad it happened

[cherrieguroo]

the hunt — the desolation

[coldflash-corner]

"Barry is a total idiot" literature is a classic and a staple in Coldflash culture, and never would I beg the creators who produce it to cease doing so nor would I ever dare say anyone is writing them wrong- just catering to their own preferences

However, my preference is

"Barry acts impulsively, and has to use his big smart brain to think himself out of the situations he put himself in, and is pretty good at the second part when not having a panic attack"

With a helping of

"Sometimes Barry doesn't get certain social cues, but figures everything out pretty quickly one someone tells him the thing he missed"

[northern-passage]

if you noticed i updated the game yesterday it was just an editing update. i fixed some coding errors in the codex and i edited the character introductions so they no longer introduce themselves with their pronouns. i never really wanted to do that & it just didn't fit the flow for me so we're back to the hunter just getting everyone's pronouns beamed directly into their brain

[biblically-accurate-dca]

vanweek day 2 - knife

does anyone else remember the knife game or have i finally gotten too old