#go with flow they said

[jnece-maharlika]

Danny accidentally becomes the Ghost king, The president and the BIGGEST threat to Bruce's social status.

Pt 1 Danny becomes the Ghost king

"Fenton's were never allowed to have a "normal" life, we are either extremely successful or extremely unsuccessful, there is no in between. Maybe a spirit cursed us back in the days, but who knows, but one things for sure, all Fenton's will definitely make the news."

-Grandma Fenton from whatever generation

Danny's starting to believe that now. He used to think that it wasn't true, but now? He used to wish to have a normal life, be a good normal son with good grades an be an astronaut one day.

But like they said, a Fenton is either EXTREMELY SUCCESSFUL OR EXTREMELY UNSUCCESSFUL.

He was EXTREMELY UNSUCCESSFUL in that.

Instead of a normal life he turned a half ghost teen superhero. But oh well, the Fenton's were also known for their ability to go with the flow

But how in the world did the flow get him here???

In Danny's defense, he wasn't really expecting this. The only thing in his mind at the moment was keeping his town and his people safe from pariah. He just wanted to get rid of the rotten fruitloop. He was EXTREMELY SUCCESSFUL, so successful in fact that he ended up becoming Ghost king.

The fudge????

But okay, sure, he didn't wanna become king but if he also didn't want to give up the crown for others to take, what if an evil person becomes king and attacks amity again?? Fine, he'll be king, he'll figure it out. Just go with the flow.

Surprisingly, not only did he get the crown, he also got THE MONEY. as in literal gold and silver bars, coins and jewelry. Appearantly, one the kings a long long time ago, before at least two generations before pariah had an obsession with MONEY. So the king made a Permanent Royal Degree (a law that cannot be changed by any future kings) that when someone dies and becomes a ghost, 20% of the MONEY that they've acquired in their entire life. (The money turns into an equivalent of ghost currency in the realms but is still physically in the living. Kind of like how the soul is in the realms but the body is the earth. Also, the only reason money exists in the realms is for convenience and a sense of normalcy, it doesn't really have that much value unless the ghosts brings it to the living) would belong to the ghost king.

Basically, it's ghost taxes that only have to be paid once for the entire afterlife. (Or is it more of an entrance fee???)

But anyways, hes got the MONEY.

He's rich now and he thinks, "I have so much money it's disgusting"

So first things first, getting rid of some of it.

By this point, his parents know he's phantom and have changed their opinions on ghosts, instead of attacking they are now looking at ghost like they're equals and try and help them as an apology for hurting them.

They are also looking for a new project to spend time on. A new purpose

So Danny thought, why not give them the money then? Danny proposed to his mom a project to make things that can benefit both ghosts and humans.

Next thing he knows is that he's appearantly funding, building and making:

A ghost job agency

A human job agency

Ghost proof buildings (ghost can't pass through walls, it won't hurt them, just keep em out.)

Ghost proof clothes (overshadowing proof!)

A practical fashion line for ghost and humans (Bullet proof, blast proof etch. Borderline vigilante clothes that look like a civilians day to day outfit)

Homes for ghost and humans

A ghost obsession help center where they can ask humans to help with their obsession.

A school for both ghost and humans.

Liminal 101 because apparently because of the whole, pariah dark and, living in the ghosts kings haunt situation, everyone is liminal now

An entire line of technology that can be used by both ghosts and humans.

A fight arena where ghost and humans can fight for fun.

And so many other things , he can't remember

HIS NAME IS EVERYWHERE . His parents didn't even bother hiding the fact that their son somehow has enough money to fund these projects, everyone knows him now.

He ends up basically owning most of amity park.

And here he thought he wouldn't be the kind of king that expands their territory.

He was extremely UNSUCCESSFUL in that.

[puppyeared]

horrible truth bomb dropped on my head 20 min ago

[bluerosefox]

The Flow of Time

Hmmm *has done a lot of deaged Danny prompts/ideas*

Let's shake things up a bit shall we???

Deaged Tim!

Tim, or rather Red Robin, was turned into a child Ra's (to steal and raise him as his evil heir)

And as he's about to be saved by the Bats. He hears what was sound of a ticking clock before he begins to fall.

And he tumbled and fell like Alice falling into Wonderland.

-x-x-

"CW what did you do?" A tired voice asked

"What I had to. Should I had left him there, they would had failed and he would had lead his world from the shadows under the false Immortal's teachings....A world does not need be in ruin to be on its path of horror and destruction, Daniel." Came the response.

"Ancients..." swore the other voice under their breath.

"Raise him well and in due time his once family will find him again. He will awaken confused and questioning, his past foggy to a point in his mind. Just make sure he is ready for it. The flow of time between worlds can be both kind and cruel." We're the words said.

"Clockwork wait! What does that-"

That was all Tim heard as he tried to wake up, but he quickly fell back asleep when a hand gently petted his head, snuggled and bundled up in a dark purple cloak and the sounds of ticking clocks all around him worked like a strange lullaby.

When he woke up next, Tim found himself in a small bedroom, a guest room that once been someone's actual bedroom judging from the glow in the dark stars still on the ceiling above. But it seemed to had been turned into a spare room for guests from how there wasn't anything else personal in the room besides basic stuff.

Tim, confused and wondering where he was and how he got there jumped when he heard the door open and meet the eyes of a young adult with black hair and blue eyes.

"Hello Tim, good to see you're awake. My name is Danny Fenton and... Welcome to my worlds version of Earth I guess."

[kyonshi-8610]

ᜉᜓᜆᜁᜈ ᜀᜅ᜔ ᜎᜃᜐ᜔ ᜅ᜔ ᜂᜎᜈ᜔ ᜀᜇᜏ᜔ ᜀᜇᜏ᜔ ᜊᜓᜋᜊᜑ potaina ang lakas ng ulan araw araw bumabaha

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

At rest, your lungs wish to deflate, and your ribcage expands outwards.

[seance]

THE MUSKETEERS 10TH ANNIVERSARY REWATCH / fave episodes [2/?] ↳ SEASON 1, EPISODE 4 / the good soldier

[toxintouch]

how do you think the lis would respond if mc sheepishly asked if they could fondle their tiddies? (even mhin, even though i KNOW they'd shank a bitch.)

Here ya go, Anon!! :3 They pronouns & non-specific language/MC used. Suggestive, but no other warnings.

AIS:

Pretends he doesn’t hear them.

“Hmm?”  He holds a hand to his ear, a toothy little smirk on his face, his scarred eyebrow raised.  The way he’s making direct eye contact is an unmistakable challenge.

“You wanna what now, Sparrow?” 

He knows exactly what MC said and they can tell.  He just wants to see if they'll say it again.  They didn’t sound so sure about whatever that request was just now…

His smirk grows when– (if?? But c’mon he’s so clearly saying yes, please) –

His smirk grows when they don’t back down.  He spreads his arms out in invitation, haori splaying open.

He’s patient for as long as he can stand once they get their hands on him but it isn’t long before he finds himself grabbing them by the wrists, pulling them closer.  Pressing his palms against the back of their hands to encourage them to make full, firm contact.  Haven’t they been warned?  He’s awfully greedy.

(And: if he purposely presses their touch against his heart for a moment, no one needs to know but him.)

VERE:

He gives them a blank look– a look unsettlingly similar to his hungry, flat eyed stare.  Though, it’s gone in an instant–so quick they might even be able to convince themself that they imagined it.  One blink and his entire expression is different, his tail swishing elegantly and with a flourish that can only be described as pleased.

“Well,” he purrs, “aren’t you just adorable?  I did tell you to ask next time you wanted to touch…  Very well then.  I’ll reward your ability to follow simple instructions.”  He relaxes luxuriously into the cushions of the divan that he’s resting on.  “Come along, then.  Fondle to your heart's content.  Don’t leave me waiting.”  He beckons to them with a crooked finger, tempting them closer, a haunting echo of their first meeting. 

Survival instincts be damned…he did give them permission…

He breathes a chuckle out as they touch him, his mouth hot against their ear as he buries a grin into their neck.

In the space of another breath, he’s flipped the two of them, leaving them pinned against the divan.

“You didn't think you were getting a single thing for free from me anymore, did you?  Tut tut.  After you treated my generosity so callously before?  From now on, I’ll be expecting payment in kind.  Quid pro quo, darling.”

KURAS:

He looks at them, eyes crinkled with amusement.  “Am I to take it that your interest is academic?  Studying anatomy, perhaps?  I do have a few select texts I could offer you which you might find quite beneficial.”

The embarrassed look on their face seems to amuse him further, the corners of his lips tugging up as he takes in their expression.

“Of course, the benefits of a more hands-on method of scholarship should not be overlooked.”  He takes pity on them, beckoning them over as he takes a seat on the doctor’s stool, right next to the cot where they first met him.  He neatly removes his coat, folding it and laying it to rest beside him.  Despite their fears, he doesn’t start listing out the anatomical names for things as they lay their hands on him.  His eyes slip shut as they rest their hands on his  shoulders–he’s still so tall, even sitting on the low stool–sliding their hands down, admiring the sturdy form and shape of him.

His own hands come up, clutching around their waist with surprising strength.  His eyes are bright and intense as he looks up at them.  They expect him to say something but he merely squeezes them–Possessively?–

Like he might be able to trap them in this moment with him forever, through will alone.

He closes his eyes again; his grip loosens. His self-control back is back in its necessary place, and he finds himself repentant.

“Forgive me.  You are quite endearing.  I simply find you…difficult to resist.”  He admits.

MHIN:

You are so correct anon.  Shanked immediately.  But MC bonks their head into Mhin’s chest on their way to the ground, so…  Achievement Unlocked? Or, for MC’s sake, I’ll assume that they have earned a level of trust/intimacy with Mhin that makes Mhin a lil' less likely to get stabby.

Mhin’s eyebrows furrow as Mhin crosses their arms, physically creating distance between MC and their…

Mhin’s cheeks go a little red as they realize how obvious their body language is, their pale eyes darting to the side as they worry about what other things they’ve accidentally telegraphed to MC. How many of Mhin's true thoughts and feelings are they privy to...?  Shaking themself mentally, they quickly snap out of it, pinning MC with a pointed glare.

“If you value your life at all, you’ll never ask me that again.”  Mhin marches away.  “Staying at the Wet Wick–around Leander–has ruined your brain.  You need to get out of that place while you still have some grey matter left.”

. . .

Later, escorting MC back to said Wet Wick, ducking through the lesser known and narrower streets after a long day of following dead ends together, Mhin finds the thought ruining their own brain.  It must be the heat of MC pressed against them in the alleyway, the comforting, all-consuming scent of them, the memory of MC’s flushed face while they were asking Mhin’s permission...  MC’s much braver than them, Mhin thinks bitterly, so much more willing to let themself have what they want, despite their cursed hands.  Mhin sighs, stopping abruptly.  Turning.  Pinching the bridge of their nose.

“Look–you can–”

Mhin feels themself blushing all the way down to their chest.  They open their mouth and close it a couple of times, attempting to articulate what they want.  They make a noise of aggravated frustration.  Carefully–very carefully, and very slowly, so that MC knows exactly what they are doing, they reach for the bandaged hands at MC’s side.  They rest MC’s hands lightly on their chest, shivering as they feel the brush of fingers against their clothed ribs, thumbs pressing into their sternum.  They bite down a noise that would surely make them perish where they stand.  Stars above, how long since–

“...Does your heart always beat this fast, Mhin?”

“Quiet.”  They snap.

Wow Mhin.  Right there in the alleyway huh?  Well ok then. I see what ur about.

LEANDER:

The two of them are alone in the room at the Wet Wick, just sitting together innocently on the bed when MC asks.

Well–they try to ask.

He hears them start the question and his coat and shirt (and tiddie belt) are coming off before they can even finish.  He gives them a quiet chuckle, blushing as his shirt(s) get caught at his shoulders. 

Though the perfect way it frames his boobs might convince them he did it on purpose…

“You meant skin to skin, right?”  He laughs again, leaning back on his hands and looking entirely too appetizing–is he arching his back a little more than necessary? 

“I don’t mind at all! Though, if you could help me with…”  His eyes crinkle as he smiles at them, head tilted like a puppy, waiting expectantly.

They get up from the bed to help him discard his remaining topmost layers of clothing, standing above him in order to better assist.  His eyes are pinned to theirs the moment the fabric barrier is fully cast aside.  “I…can’t say this is a bad view,” he admits, eyes roving along their form, tongue darting out to wet his lips.  Then, more sincerely: “I’m glad that you asked me for this.  Don’t be afraid to touch, all right?  Nothing bad will happen to me, promise. Remember: whatever you want.”

They find themself feeling along the edges of his scar, tracing the line of it across his pectoral…  His breath catching when they accidentally scratch him a little with their nails (MC is just a little clumsy–that was completely unintentionally, really) is dangerously addictive.

“Ah... Anywhere else you’d like to touch?  It would be a shame to waste this opportunity…”

If they're feeling shy, he could offer a few suggestions.  He really, really wants to help in any way he can. :)

BONUS!ELYON:   “You can, but I will have to charge.”

[nico-di-genova]

Just a Little Rain

Prompt: Palex where Alex comes to Pato for a sleepover in his bus because he can't fall asleep alone  A/N: Don't ask me the timeline of anything, idk. Anyway, found out Alex apparently has a fear of lightning and I ran with it.

The rumble of thunder through the bus lot is what pulls Pato from his sleep, a sound that roils through, bringing Pato’s consciousness with it. The lightning that flashes, casts shadows of his blinds across the ceiling and illuminates the messy state of his room for a blink, is quick to follow.

Pato groans, muffles the sound into his pillow when he turns on his side and curses the weather.

The storm had been forecasted, discussed in their meeting the night before because it is meant to be slow-moving, still sitting above them come morning and impacting the practice session he sorely needs. The rain that beats against his window would normally be appreciated, soothing in nature, if not for the fact that it is what will be keeping him out of the car come tomorrow. Ovals and their temperament, their unreliability, and the fact that they can kill, have killed, aren’t safe to drive on in wet conditions. Pato wouldn’t want to take the risk, not for a practice session, but he is itching to get in the car.

May is already weighing heavy on him, despite the fact that the month is still in its infancy, still ripe with potential and promise. Pato cannot help but think twenty steps ahead, can’t help that his brain seems to be working in overdrive these days, especially where the 500 is concerned. It’s exhausting, which is another reason he curses the storm. He needs sleep.

Thunder rumbles again, louder this time, enough to shake the bus. Enough that Pato misses the knocking until it comes again, frantic. He could pass it off as storm noise, if not for how it echoes and sound far closer than what is brewing in the sky above.

Grumbling, he pulls himself from the bed and pads down the length of the bus, wiping at the sleep crusted in the corners of his eyes. He opens the door mid-yawn, not expecting anyone, but least of all the man who stands on the first step shivering in his soaked through pajamas.

“Alex?”

Alexander Rossi looks up at him through the rain beading on his lashes, squints when it drips and joins the rest of the cascading trails down his face.

“Hi.”

“Hi?”

“Can I come in?” He shivers again as if for emphasis, curls his arms tighter where he’s wrapped them around his torso. His shirt is plastered to his soaked through frame, sleeves tight against the swell of muscle. Pato stares, wondering for a moment if he’s maybe dreaming, before Alex tacks on a feeble, “Please?” and his voice, trembling just as much as he is, pulls Pato back to his senses.

He moves out of the doorway, motions for Alex to enter, and then Alexander Rossi is standing in the entryway of his bus and dripping water in a puddle on the linoleum. His shoes leave muddy tracks, before he looks down and notices the mess.

“Sorry,” He mutters to Pato before kicking the sneakers off, standing in the puddle of water in his socks once he does.

“It’s okay,” Pato promises. His bus isn’t the sanctity of cleanliness that Alex’s is, there’s enough half empty water bottles and piles of clothes scattered around to attest to that. But Alex probably can’t see the mess in the dark of the bus. He isn’t looking at anything anyway, just the floor beneath him, his socks changing color where the water is soaking into them.

Pato isn’t sure what to say, what to do, shuffles around Alex from where he’d been standing with his hand still on the door and then makes for the kitchen so he can flip the switch to illuminate the small space. The light has them both flinching, blinking against it, even though it’s dim because Pato has it on a slider and always keeps it on the lowest setting. It casts Alex in a new light, makes his soaked through state even more apparent. Their buses are on opposite sides of the lot, which means Alex has run through the grass and the mud, braved the torrential downpour that now beats against the windows, to stand in one spot on Alex’s bus and shiver.

“Are- do you- do you want a change of clothes?” Pato asks. They’re not the same size, but Pato thinks he maybe has a hoodie or two that are oversized on him.

Alex swallows, nods, “Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

Pato wouldn’t have offered if he did.

He doesn’t look at Pato, still keeps staring at that same spot on the floor. Alex doesn’t ever speak much, but he doesn’t show up at Pato’s place at close to three in the morning without explanation either. They’re friendly, friends even, but Pato is used to long text conversations and casual flirting, not whatever this is. He’s out of his element, Alex too if his stilted behavior is any indication.

Rifling through the bit of clean laundry he still has, Pato is able to procure a tan hoodie. There’s a stain on the front, probably from spilled food, but it’s clean. Alex doesn’t seem to mind, which is strange too, just peels his shirt from his body without preamble and wipes himself down with the towel Pato offers too before sliding the hoodie on.

Pato tries not to stare, fails, watches as Alex runs to towel over his chest, his arms, the expanse of his abdomen. He’s seen Alex shirtless before, worked out with him occasionally and seen him strip out of his fireproofs when he got too overheated, but never in the intimacy of his temporary home. Never when Alex was so close. Alex dries at the water along his v-line, and Pato’s mouth goes a little dry.

He forces himself to look away, makes himself a glass of water and chugs it while leaning against the sink so he can maybe not feel so thirsty that he thinks about dropping to his knees and licking away the rain dotting Alex’s skin himself. Alex doesn’t seem to notice, just slides on the hoodie and then strips out of his socks, adding them and his shirt in a soggy pile next to his shoes.

“Thanks,” Alex says when he’s dressed, no longer standing in the puddle, but across from Pato in the small space of the kitchen. He’s leaned back against the door of the bathroom, arms crossed over his chest again, eyes still not quite meeting Pato’s.

“No problem.” Pato sips from his water now, casts a look at Alex over the rim of the cup.

“I-“ Alex starts, shifts against the door, sighs, “I don’t like storms.”

The thunder rumbles again outside as if to accentuate Alex’s point. He tenses, noticeably, fabric of the hoodie stretched tight across his shoulders.

“Oh,” Pato says, for lack of anything better. Alex didn’t seem like the sort to be afraid of anything, least of all thunderstorms.

“I- it’s the lightning really. Or just- just the whole thing. I don’t know. Mainly the lightning.”

“Oh,” Pato says again, still unsure what he’s meant to do here, “Okay.”

“Sorry, it’s stupid,” Alex says, forces out a laugh, but Pato knows when he’s faking something so it’s not hard to miss the tension in his tone. He glances up at Pato for a second, quickly looks back down, finds another spot on the floor to study with avoidant interest. Pato’s never seen him like this. Quiet, annoyed, yes, but awkwardly picking at the sleeve of Pato’s hoodie with anxious fingers, that’s a new one.

“No, it’s not stupid,” Pato assures him, sets the cup of water down behind him, “Sorry, man, I don’t mean to be an asshole.” He steps closer to Alex, sets a hand over where Alex is pulling on the hoodie at his bicep and then releasing it, repeating the behavior again and again with increasing agitation. Alex flinches at the contact, eyes darting to Pato’s holding for a second before they leave again. He’s biting at his bottom lip nervously, enough that Pato can see blood beading up when he pulls at a loose bit of skin to hard. Alex licks it away quickly, ducks his head further like he’s ashamed.

“It’s not stupid, honestly. What do you need me to do? How can I help?”

Alex shrugs, shakes his head.

“Come on, Alex. You came here for a reason, let me help. Please.”

“It’s dumb,” Alex says, quiet, ashamed. The thunder comes again, and he tenses impossibly tighter, goes so rigid in Pato’s grasp that Pato can feel it. The bus does little to help, just keeps rocking with the wind that gusts against it and doing nothing to mute the cacophony of noise that is the rain pounding against the roof. The storm is picking up, and Alex is only growing more and more agitated with it.

“Alex, I want to help,” Pato pushes. He hates this, hates seeing Alex practically trembling in the dim light of his bus, looking smaller than he should. He’s exhausted, and he can see Alex is too in the dark circles under his eyes and his weary expression. They need to sleep, they both need this rain to end. Alex because he clearly can’t stand the storm itself, Pato because he needs to get in his car tomorrow, drive out the anxiety and frustration that’s crawling up his spine. He curses Indiana weather again, mentally gives it the finger, it responds with a clap of thunder so loud the bus shakes with it.

Alex’s face goes white, his grip on his own bicep goes so tight Pato can see it, feel it beneath where he’s got his own hand resting atop Alex’s. It must be painful, has to be, because he’s gripping skin and muscle with enough force his knuckles are going white too.

“Hey, woah, it’s okay.” He soothes Alex like a spooked horse, pulls the man’s hand away from where he’s attempting to bruise his own arm, lets him grip his hand instead. “You’re okay, dude. All good.”

“S-sorry,” Alex stutters out, choked sounding. He’s squeezed his eyes shut, just as tight as the rest of his body, leaning against the door behind him heavily for support. His breathing comes out ragged, unnatural. “I need- I need to lay down. Please. Under something, with someone. Just- I can’t- I don’t like being alone when it’s- when it’s like this.”

Hence running through the rain and to Pato’s door. Pato remembers Alex telling him Hinch was out of town, gone to Miami for the Formula 1 race. He wonders if that’s who Alex would have run to instead, assumedly he had not been the first choice. They’ve endured plenty of storms during this season and the last, but this is the first time Alex has shown up at his door seeking shelter.

Carefully, still handling Alex with all the care one would a particularly frightened thoroughbred, he takes him by the wrist and leads him back to his room. Alex follows, numbly, blindly, trusting Pato fully. Pato has contended with his fair share of nervous system overloads, understands the way you feel frayed and exposed, like a raw nerve. He doesn’t blame Alex for shutting down.

Alex’s sweatpants are still wet from the rain, and Pato doesn’t have a pair that would fit him.

“Do you want to sleep in these?” He asks, gently tapping against the waistband of the clothing.

Alex shakes his head.

“Okay if I take them off?”

Alex nods.

It’s not the way Pato had envisioned undressing him, and he does so with a gentleness he had not pictured either, sliding the elastic band down past the hem of his briefs, the muscle of his thighs, and then letting them pool around his ankles so Alex can step out of them when Pato pulls him forward and eases him down onto the bed. Alex sits on the edge for a minute while Pato crawls in behind him, all rigid and unmoving, and then falls back on the pillow with a sigh of relief when Pato grabs his arm and pulls him down. He is taller than Pato, longer than him, but the height doesn’t factor much once they’re laying parallel. Pato holds him, Alex turns himself around to bury his face against the crook of his neck. The blanket Pato eases over him ends up pulled to his ears.

When lightning flashes, illuminates the room, Alex’s breath stutters.

“Okay,” he soothes, “You’re okay.”

Part of him wonders at the fear, wonders what it is in the lightning that causes Alex to press closer to him. Come morning maybe he will ask, or maybe he will text Hinch, or maybe he will say nothing at all, and Alex will leave once the sun arrives. This could become something they aren’t meant to talk about, like the flirting and the texts that Alex sends when he’s drunk and alone. Just another thing they step around, until the next storm that Alex comes knocking during.

Pato holds him closer, closes his eyes and inhales the scent of him, the sharp copper scent of rain and skin that isn’t really Alex at all, but will be what Pato recalls when he thinks of this night.

“You’re okay,” Pato promises, because the bus doesn’t muffle much sound, but it keeps out the rain. Alex lets him run a hand down his back, muscles jumping under the touch, coiled so tightly he can’t hide the reaction. Pato does so until Alex begins to relax against him.

Slowly, his own exhaustion begins to return. Despite the rain still pounding down on the roof, beating against the window in sheets, the noise begins to lure him toward unconsciousness. He’s warm under the blanket with Alex, almost unbearably so, but it’s also comfortable. He likes the extra weight on the mattress beside him, how Alex dips toward him, they dip toward each other, with the weight of their bodies at the center of the bed. Alex has nuzzled himself right under Pato’s chin, so that his breath is warm when it ghosts along his neck.

Warmth and heat and a familiar hand clutching at his hip, this is how Pato falls asleep.

In the morning, Alex is still there, snoring softly, body relaxed. One quick look at his phone assures him they can stay in this moment for longer, Pato’s engineer having texted to let him know practice is, predictably, delayed. It’s easy, for a moment, to fantasize a life in which this is normal. Where he might, one day, wake up with Alex in his arms and it will feel like home. Certainly it is the closest Pato has come in recent weeks, since leaving Monterrey and having to pack his life into a bus, an Airbnb, a hotel room over and over and over again. Alex is one of the constants now. Next to Elba, he is usually the first person to text Pato in the morning. Often, it is to ask him if he wants to work out, go for a walk – because Alex doesn’t run – and now, for a moment, he is here. It feels right.

Pato, harshly, hopes they have another storm.

He doesn’t wake Alex, just sets his phone back down on the nightstand and carefully eases himself back to where Alex is curled against him. Alex mumbles in his sleep at the movement. It’s nonsensical, not even words, but Pato can feel them because Alex is so close to him that his lips ghost along the exposed column of his neck.

“It’s okay,” Pato calms him once more, another hand down his back, down the fabric of his hoodie that Alex is now stretching out and claiming, “Go back to sleep, it’s okay.”

“M’kay,” Alex mutters.

Pato smiles.

Sun is beginning to filter through the blinds, despite the rain still pattering against the window, and Alex continues to sleep.  

[catmask]

How many asks u got in ur askbox (said like “do you got games on ur phone”

more than i would like but less after having anon off for almost a year and a half now

[brainmoss]

God gives the greatest tits to the transest soldiers

[fumifooms]

Marchil crumbs part 5

Part 1 - Part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 6 - part 7

The anime has come and since I have my shipping goggles on I am going to notice so much. This part will be less spoilery for anime onlys (tho if you want to see me talk about why I ship them and why they’re complementary this is not a good part to start with haha). Edit: After completing this part I can confirm it’s fully anime-onlys friendly and spoiler-free! For manga veterans though there are still some fun tidbits to be found, some recontextualisations and new extra content.

Holy shit guys they’re mirroring each other in the mural and reaching out to each other AND looking towards each other?!!!! Their pose is so striking and like perfectly align?! Which means it was so intentional and the staff wanted to highlight them (for an aesthetic and/or narrative purpose I’m sure but it happened)! I will never let this go we won so fucking hard let’s goooooo we are so back

Character foils!! Dynamic duo!!

Soulmates!!

In the opening at 1:16 he looks at her to see if she’s really going to it as the most critical of monster food & muster up courage to dig into it himself lmao… "Marcille doesn’t look too grossed out, she’s picky so this food must be fine then" Aka treating her as a poison taster/good cuisine judge lmao

Doodle from the animation director (source). I should translate it but I’m procrastinating on it so uh director’s brotp? Anyways they hanging out look at them :]

Laios is thinking to himself there (he’s the one saying the subs), and in the meantime Marcille and Chilchuck talk, likely figuring out the money situation. Strategizing duo back at it again not wasting a second

In the beginning of ep 1, when Marcille is rambling about where they could go to get food and what to grab, Chilchuck listens with a big smile & even closes his eyes as they walk. The implication is that he’s thinking about food, but man the scene hits different now that it’s voiced and I remember that indeed Chilchuck is closing his eyes to her voice and enjoying hearing her talk and ramble. I may be too far gone into the marchil pit

I feel like already they’ve come far from when Chilchuck dreaded being alone with Shuro and Marcille, waiting for the Toudens and Namari to arrive.

Ok this might actually be smth I’m gonna complain about but I feel like blushes have been drawn too vividly so far. Why does Chilchuck look like he’s confessing when he tells her she’s not a burden and he didn’t mean to make her feel that way. It almost comes across as "Woah she cares what I think?" 💀 The banter ensuing is of course also great

Ep 2 was an episode centered on them both that had the "Magic/Traps are my domain, don’t interfere!" parallel… And now with ep 3 we’re back to them being haters together. That’s her emotional support man

In ep 4, it doesn’t show well with a screenshot but when Senshi talks about his unmanned vegetable stand with a treasure chest, while in the manga Marcille and Chilchuck both think the same thing, "That’s why that treasure chest akways had money in it…", but in the anime instead they literally finish each other’s thought. Talk about being on the same wavelength.

Ep 5 is a marchil goldmine actually, it showcases perfectly how much of a package deal they are lol. Always sticking close to each other. Glancing at each other during meals… They literally nod at each other before they try a bite to steel themselves. They exchange a serious thoughtful glance when Laios talks about Falin truly being gone atm. They argue a bit but they go right back to sitting right next to each other after the meal <3 My god I can’t deal with them they are so…… "Hate this bitch, not my friend" 3 secs later "Heyy bestie!!" Also he’s worried he brought her mood down after mentioning Falin. Made a post about ep 5 collecting even more screenshots.

Episode 6 my hero my beloved… Again I made a post about the ep collecting all my screenshots here, and even a clip! But this IS the marchil crumbs masterpost thus I must collect the major ones here as well. First of all, fun staff drawings for the first screening!

I already posted a screenshot from the trailer of when Chil had his head on his knees sitting next to her, but after seeing episode 5 I think it’s a fun and interesting trend to notice that they sit next to each other way unnecessarily close wow. They continue to banter a ton, she continues to be very casual with touch, and they’re really cute! I love just how much Marcille blushed damn- It’s really cute too when you remember with the bicorn chapter that Chilchuck teases Marcille BECAUSE he enjoys getting a rise out of her, flustering her and seeing her reactions. I support the teasing -> laughing because her reaction is over the top all-Chilchuck economy. Also she apologizes for having let him go alone and be gone for so long by helping him with sewing his cowl… Cuties

She looked so happy when he opened up about his age!… And then seemed… Disappointed? When he "truly was just a kid". "So you really are a kid! How boring…" This implies that her intent was to tease him for funsies… Ok lads we reached 30 pics see you next post, I’m gonna cover the "wake up clumsy head" manga-anime differences and we’re gonna go back to our usual spoilers yummy schedule.

Here’s Marcille cosplaying as a succubus in the newest Daydream Hour… She may not be a half-foot or have deep-set eyes but let’s be real I think he’d explode

part 6 here!!

[lets-try-some-writing]

Artificial Prime

Part 2 of the Artificial Prime AU, previous post here.

Recap: Optimus is a machine made by Ratchet to replace the deceased Orion Pax and serve as the Prime the Autobots desperately need. He didn't know he was a machine, he wasn't supposed to know that the Matrix within him was fake or that he was sparkless. But then Smokescreen arrived on earth with the real Matrix and now the truth has no choice but to come out lest the Autobots fall.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

The real Matrix shone in the container it had come in and Optimus lay sprawled out on the ground unconscious, his processors overwhelmed by the sudden surge of data. The team remained silent for a long moment while Ratchet panicked. Then before any of them could do anything about it, he slammed the lid back on the crate and shoved the Matrix in its box under his medical berth.

His processors whirled, desperate to come up with a convincing lie to get both Optimus and the team convinced that Optimus was indeed a Prime. He briefly considered trying to claim that the new Matrix was fake, but none could deny its aura. It was real, it had to be. The very sparks of all the natural born Cybertronians sang at the sight of the relic, they all knew what it was.

In the end Ratchet gathered up Optimus while the team were still reeling and dropped him on the medical berth while struggling to come up with a solution. However after a moment, the team began to understand what happened and in mere moments, there were questions barraging him.

Smokescreen: That was the Matrix! The fragging Matrix! How is it here and not... in Optimus's chest?!?

Arcee: Ratchet, you seem to know what's going on. Care to explain?

Ratchet: ...

Bulkhead: Ratch? Is it fake or something?

Bumblebee: Is Optimus going to be alright?

Ratchet: ... Forget you ever saw this. If you want things to stay the way they should, forget you ever saw the relic and pretend it didn't happen.

Smokescreen: What?!

Ratchet: I can't tell you the truth. It would ruin everything. Just listen to me this once and don't say a word. When Optimus wakes pretend this didn't happen and never speak of it again.

Arcee: You can't be serious!

Ratchet: I am more serious than ever before. Optimus can't know about this. He needs to keep believing. He isn't allowed to know.

Bulkhead: Ratchet, you aren't making any sense-

Ratchet: Do you want a Prime?! Do you want a leader!? Then shut up and follow orders like a good soldier while I fix this!

Ratchet's sharp response caught the entire team off guard, so much so that they didn't stop him and merely watched on in growing fear and concern as he put the box with the Matrix in a storage room and locked the door before demolishing the access point. Not a spark had any idea why he had given them the orders he had or why he was trying to get rid of the actual Matrix of leadership. However as Optimus stirred, they had a choice to make.

As soon as Optimus's waking reached Ratchet's audio receptors he hurried forward and eliminated any evidence of the Matrix's existence before slamming down a random datapad that he intended to claim was the item within the box Smokescreen carried. Then as Optimus shot up, horrified and clawing at his chassis and looking around for where he last saw the Matrix, Ratchet smoothed his expression with such skill that even the team were frightened. Then without any hesitation he told Optimus it was all a dream, that it wasn't real. As he did so he uttered a soft command one which inspired submissiveness and trust. It was one of his failsafes, and while Optimus seemed confused, the command worked and he got up rubbing his helm.

The moment the Prime looked away, Ratchet shot the team the most deadly glare he could, almost daring them to go against his orders. They all looked away and said nothing, earning a hint of relaxation and hope in the medic. Optimus couldn't know the truth. If the team remained silent he could explain himself and come up with a reasonable lie. But until then, he needed them to keep what they had seen to themselves.

Thankfully with a few more near silent commands from Ratchet to make Optimus unfocused, the Prime didn't notice anything and wandered off to his quarters on Ratchet's orders to recharge. At which point Ratchet was once again met with questions, all of which he brushed off as best as he could. He murmured something about answering them later and then reminded the team to keep their mouths shut with yet another glare before heading off to his own quarters to think.

Optimus couldn't know. But now it was too late to keep the full truth hidden. That left Ratchet with only one real option... he had to choose the lesser of two evils and offer up a fraction of the truth, that being that the Matrix in Optimus's chassis was not the real one.

Ratchet mulled over his response for nearly a whole day, unwilling to leave his quarters and he agonized over it. By that point the team had already begun to question aloud and Ratchet's commands to Optimus had worn off. The Prime was suspicious and quickly came to realize that what he was told was not at all true as the team broke and told him what they had seen and experienced.

In the end Optimus was left fearful, confused, and anxious for answers. As such he and the team ended up waiting for Ratchet impatiently as he finally dragged himself out of his quarters to face the inevitable. One truth needed to be revealed, and in his mind, it was better that the falsity of the Matrix come to light rather than Optimus's nature. At least that way he could keep likely keep the team together and shoulder the blame, effectively ensuring the Autobots wouldn't crumble.

He should have known better than to expect things to go that easily.

Optimus: You lied to me Ratchet.

Ratchet: ...

Optimus: I want to know why. Tell me old friend, what's going on?

Ratchet: ... Optimus, you must promise to listen to me before doing anything drastic first.

Optimus: I cannot guarantee that.

Ratchet: ... Very well.

Smokescreen: Is it fake!? The Matrix, is it?

Ratchet: The Matrix that you brought with you is real Smokescreen. There is no denying that.

Arcee: Then Optimus-?!

Ratchet: His Matrix is fake. I made it and implanted it after minor memory alteration and frame upgrades.

Optimus: ... why?

Ratchet: We needed a Prime. Primus would not give us one, so I did what was required.

Optimus looked like his entire world was crashing down around him, his face the embodiment of pain, shock, and confusion. He didn't pass out again, but he wobbled and held onto the nearest surface like it was his lifeline as he opened his chassis to look at the faux Matrix. He raised a shaky servo to it and touched the faux Matrix as if the thing itself had betrayed him.

The team were in mixed states of shock. Arcee looked conflicted, Bulkhead appeared to want to vanish into thin air, Smokescreen just seemed confused more than anything, and Bumblebee was torn between going to Optimus and asking further questions. Ratchet watched it all while silently wishing Smokescreen had never arrived. The rookie was ruining everything, and all Ratchet could do was try to patch up the complex lie he had built up for the entirety of the Autobots and for Optimus.

After the reveal Optimus retreated to his quarters for over three days, not coming out for anything while he processed a whole part of his worldview shattering. Ratchet slid a datapad under his door containing all the details of the faux Matrix minus anything that would hint at Optimus's true nature. He hoped it would bring his creation some sense of understanding, but he could only wish. All the while the team did their best to function on their own. Thankfully for Ratchet, while they avoided him like the plague and treated him with mixed hatred and grim understanding, the team remained loyal. They didn't show any signs of abandoning the Autobots because of the lie Ratchet had built, and in fact they seemed more loyal now that they knew Optimus was as much as a victim of the lie as they were.

It was a cold comfort, but one Ratchet accepted. He had already made himself a heretic and a sinner by creating Optimus at all. He knew what fate awaited him and he accepted the cold disregard for his presence stoically. He deserved it after all.

When Optimus emerged again he was received with more understanding and care from the team than anything else. They respected him still and gave him their sympathies. He was in far more pain than they were and they knew it. He had led armies, fought in a pointless war, and suffered through every conceivable form of pain because he believed it to be his duty as Prime. To find out that he was not a Prime was a harsh reality check, one that had Optimus similarly avoiding Ratchet as if he were a stranger.

Ratchet accepted it all. He didn't show any emotion during the day and only told the children to refer to Optimus by his first name and not his title. He patched wounds as quickly as he could, opened ground bridges without a word, and kept out of everyone's way. What did his loneliness matter after all he had done? He deserved to be treated as an outcast.

As such time passed and battles were fought. Optimus opted to not reveal the truth of his lack of a Matrix to the Decepticons for obvious reasons. But around base he dropped the name of Optimus and instead asked to be called Orion, a fact that left Ratchet wanting to purge every single time the name was called. Still he endured and did not utter a word of objection, instead focusing on keeping the children from noticing the growing gulf between himself and the team.

They hunted relics, fought Megatron for them, and continued their war. It was a sad existence for Ratchet, but an acceptable one... right up until Optimus came to him for the first time in months since the reveal and asked him for one simple thing.

Optimus wanted the faux Matrix removed, claiming that he wanted to leave behind anything that set him apart from the others. Ratchet only half heard Optimus explanation before stress and panic emerged and he slammed his fist down onto his workstation with a resounding cry of "No". The team who were listening in all paused in shock again and Optimus looked more frustrated than anything. The artificial Prime had evidently had enough and began to question, asking why and getting in Ratchet's face. Ratchet pushed his creation away and refused to answer. The faux Matrix couldn't be removed, doing so would reveal Optimus's lack of a spark. Perhaps on Cybertron he could have whipped up something fake to go there instead, but on earth? He had no such ability.

Soon enough Optimus got frustrated and opened up his chassis with the intent to tear out the faux Matrix if Ratchet wouldn't. Desperate and fueled by panic and fear, Ratchet made a mistake. He grabbed Optimus's arm, tore him away from his attempts and uttered the shut down phrase he had installed in terror. Before he could realize his mistake, Optimus dropped to the ground, aware but paralyzed.

The team rushed to his aid while Ratchet shook, knowing that now there would be more questions. How could he tell them? Optimus already didn't trust him. And now that Ratchet's failsafe code had been revealed there was no way in the pits that Optimus wouldn't get curious and dig on his own if Ratchet failed to explain.

He was fragged, totally and completely fragged.

Arcee: What did you do to him!?

Bumblebee: Fix this! He needs help!

Bulkhead: We need an explanation now!

Ratchet: It was a failsafe code.

Smokescreen: What does that even mean?!

Ratchet: I... I couldn't risk him going rogue... If he ever found out or his AI went out of control I needed a way to shut him down until I could fix things.

Bumblebee: ... AI?

Ratchet: ... He wasn't supposed to be like this. He... it was supposed to be a tool, a machine to serve as a placeholder until the war was over... it wasn't meant to adapt as it has. I never intended for it to really feel anything.

Arcee: Ratchet, are you saying-?!

Ratchet: Orion Pax died. We needed a leader. I made one for us, a perfect leader who would never fall to lesser emotions like greed and envy.

Ratchet: ...

Ratchet: I made a perfect artificial Prime all for your sakes. It was for our cause... for the Autobots...

Not a word was spoken amid the silence that followed. Optimus remained prone, his optics gazing up at Ratchet in increasing horror as his AI struggled to comprehend the reality. The team stood in growing horror, looking between the paralyzed Optimus and Ratchet in confliction.

Everything Ratchet built was coming crashing down and all he could do was weep.

[tulipe-rose]

Random ask timeee! :D

As a tribute to the dire state the Hunting Dogs are currently in, which duo/trio of them is your favorite? Which are you gonna be most excited about when they (hopefully) reunite? 👀

AAAA HIHIHI

My favorite duo that I miss dearly, and barely have content of is Jōnō and Tachihara. They're such wasted potential istg. Tachihara is bothered by being supposedly 'not very smart'–which I heavily disagree with–and you know who could make up for that? Jōnō. Jōnō is the brain and Tachihara is the brawn, but their capability isn't limited to just that. Yes, Tetchō and Jōnō fit this description too, but to me, the unexplored battle potential of Tachihara's and Jōnō's combined Abilities is just so much more intriguing. With the very few interactions we got of them in canon, I can't help but imagine them having some brothers bonding time but it's military lab rats style. Also no one can convince me that they're not sent out on undercover missions the most, like they're both incredible actors; they'd fool Mōri, which Tachihara already did. Even Dazai could take a while to realize them. They're my power duo ever though I don't think we'll see them again for a while now. (If ever ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ)

[koschei-the-ginger]

An underappreciated moment in Charmed was when Piper accidentally ate one of the enchanted chocolates Cole had prepared for Phoebe so that they could conceive the new evil overlord and instead of telling anyone, he just looks away and whistles to himself like yea now my sister in law is going to get SO horny she could fuck herself to death. But that's Leo's problem, not mine 😇.

[storm-driver]

for as much as we all joke that Mickey forgot Aqua was in the realm of darkness for 10 years, that's not actually true.

he lost track of her for 10 years. he found her again by sheer accident when he ran in there during the events of KH1. he couldn't go back to save her because he had to shut the door, was trying to help Riku get out of his own predicament, and learned about the organization and what they were doing. he spent a year doing who knows what, ill give you that, but there was a LOT of critical things going on immediately after he learned where Aqua was. bro needs a little leeway, if anything, more people should be mad at yen sid for telling Mickey not to mention Aqua. was it a weird as fuck choice? yes. but "he forgot Aqua for 10 years" is a very far cry from what actually happened

[gnomewithalaptop]

Uuuugh vehement antishippers are so annoyinggg 😑