#im a dramatic bitch!

[confessedlyfannish]

Writing Prompt #12

Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.

Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.

Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.

While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.

These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".

There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—

"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.

But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.

He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.

"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.

"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.

"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.

He doesn't look away from the man.

"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."

"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.

The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.

The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"

Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."

"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."

He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.

"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.

"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.

"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."

"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.

"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."

"Him."

"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."

"Why me?"

"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."

This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.

"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"

"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."

Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."

"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."

"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."

"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."

"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."

"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.

"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.

"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."

"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."

"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."

Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.

Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.

"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."

The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.

"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.

"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."

"I have more than one."

"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."

"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"

There is a pause.

"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."

"Resolve what?"

"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."

"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."

Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."

The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."

"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."

"They will have already muzzled him."

Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.

"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."

"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—

Clack!

"sluuuuurp!"

"Master Timothy, honestly!"

"Sorry Alfred!"

#i feel like I'm going to reread this and want to add other stuff #but I also just want to post it and get it out there #fun fact i scribbled a bunch of lines down at 2am bc i didn't want to forget them #im bad at multiple drafts #my writing #dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #batman #i live to make everybody dramatic #but also i subscribe to a world where clockwork doesn't know how NOT to be dramatic #lol he's a ghost from all of time he doesn't know how to speak to humans and tailor it to the century let alone the decade #and his favorite little girl who calls him clocky loves how he speaks so #he doesn't need to change for nobody #nor feels inclined to #also I feel like as god he's way more inclined to threaten to get what he wants than like...be vulnerable #jazz: let's unpack that #clockwork: we never do #jazz: are you saying that because it's true or because that's what you want to be true? #clockwork: ... #also I cannot take credit for BITCH I MIGHTWING #wish i could #that is cash money right there #shoutout to 11thsense

[nintendont2502]

I'm gonna be a little bitch for a second GOD it's so so so fucking exhausting being a non USAmerican online. Like. Jesus fucking christ the levels of defaultism are just,,,, god. The 'default' audience for every post is Americans. American pop culture is universal obviously, and god forbid you bring up a show from your own country because no ones ever watched that! The millions of kids in your country don't count clearly. When American places are mentioned it's always Town, State, Country, but when anywhere else is mentioned you're lucky to get State, Country, or the closest major city if you're really lucky. Fahrenheit and MM/DD/YY and American spellings dominate even though they're the only country that uses them. People constantly talk about how x and y 'breaks the law'. They mean American laws, because those are obviously universal. American news and American politics are everywhere. You *have* to care about this. If you don't, you're a monster. The only time my country makes it is when we're literally burning to the ground, and even then they don't even touch the political side of things. Even international incidents somehow get brought back to America - call your representative (I dont have one). Go to these protests (they're on the other side of the world). Sign this petition (it's for US residents only). Im going to go insane.

#sigh #yes this is inspired by the fucking CONSTANT 'what do you think of this american state!!1!' posts #i Dont. #I Do Not give a shit aboit fucking ohio or whatever #and the assumption tjat everyone everywhere has thoughts on these states (KNOWS these states) is just #gh #what do YOU think of tasmania? or the act? or queensland?? #what do you mean you dont know them?? everyone does!! #god #i know im being a bitch and over dramatic but im so fucking tired man #me.txt

[grandwretch]

i do think peak comedy is a steve who is absolutely aware of the effect he has on people, but has never felt that way towards anyone else-- the closest he got was with nancy and robin, because he loved them both in different ways, and sometimes he felt like he was going to go insane if he didn't talk to them or touch them right now, but it was never like he had seen other people act about him. robin and nancy made him a better person. they didn't drive him to ridiculous levels of violence and obsession. maybe people in hawkins were just fucking weird.

and then he meets eddie, falls in love with eddie, and he's like... yeah, okay. alright. no, i get it. if anything happened to this guy i would steal the nuclear launch codes.

#steddie #jgkfldgj separate fic idea where everyone is talking about their best murder ideas as like a joke #nancy has a gun she's been thinking about longingly eddie's is dramatic argyle's is disturbingly competent etc #and steve is just like how many of the government officials that we know do you think i would have to fuck to get access to the nukes #idk steve is the epitome of go big or go home To Me #like he's always the one put in situations and then he commits to the bit a thousand percent and is way more extra about it than everybody #he hit billy with a fucking car . do u get that #nancy was like im gonna shoot at him like a normal person in an action film #and steve was like oh the vehicle im currently in? before airbags were invented? im gonna send it full speed into that guy #as you fucking do #the only one in the upside down mostly naked and shoeless btw #like ???? do u think this is die hard u bitch bc that hasnt come out yet #what was i talking about its 2 am

[heynhay]

so part of my klance renaissance has obviously included haunting ao3 and can i just say this one by @thespacenico was especially lovely. drew a lil somethin.

#them and hiuythn #are at the top of my list rn as far as writers go. just some spectacular work happening over there #klance #voltron #vld #art #my art #there were so many impactful moments but for some reason i chose the one where keith is like 'im in love with you' (mic drop) #because thats like. 90% of my art #nico be honest did you read my mind and find out that dramatic pining keith is my fav #god i hope i got the like. environment right. and i couldnt remember whether they had their helmets on in this part but i was 90% sure #that they did so i put them on for safety #im putting this on twitter tomorrow if i remember so watch your back bitches

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Flashback, warm nights.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#Poorly Drawn MDZS #MDZS #Season 1 #wei wuxian #lan wanji #jiang cheng #should I have a teen tag? for all the flashbacks? Maybe I'll add it later #Linking the song for its 80's vibes + flashback melancholy + I think its fun #We have finally arrived at the cloud recess flashback! Dramatic first meetings under the moonlight! A sword fight! acknowledgement of skill #Its like everything you see in a 'No Homo' martial arts story that makes you go 'hold on that's a little...' #except we rejoice; for these bitches do be nurturing plot relevant homoromantic tension #I have to give a shout out to 15 year old wwx for in all honesty he had no way of knowing who he was facing #on day *one* of cultivation Christian summer camp! talk about bad luck #ok some other notes: I wanted to give non mxy!wwx distinct features while still looking somewhat consistant #and i think im happy with it! Softer bangs + mole + different hair tie ain't much but it works for me #they'll soon all be in white with small accents so I gotta do what I can #What im not happy about is my paneling B*/ theres no excuse for why I went back to the bad 3 square format other than I was lazy #Sadly I do these in batches so my bad habits stick around for a little longer

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

Chase’s relationship with First is a strange one. He instigates ‘death battles’ with First but God help anyone else who comes close to killing his “husband”

Strange perhaps. but oh so tantalizing~ (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖) It's about that sweet sweet undescribable bond that blooms between people who clashed as opponents and equals, my man. And occasional fights to death and proprietary behaviour is Chase's questionable way of flirting, lol.

also i have a small collection of tumblr posts that kinda fits their ship dynamics in my head ;P

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

also extra silly ones;3

#que? #ninja showdown #my immortal soul #first ninja x chase young #first ninja #chase young #rc9gn first ninja #rc9gn #randy cunningham 9th grade ninja #xiaolin showdown #first is very dramatic and i love his posh way of talking but also im camp 'let first say fuck' all the time because this man deserves it #also i know that chase is absolutely that bitch that would sarcastically say 'oopsie-daisies' because he has that blaze attitude lol #and yes i am indeed full of spicy headcanons about this ship lol sue me i have to take my entertainment wherever i can xD

[scatterbrainedbot]

as i am currently on that transmasc bloodcycle bullshit, it occurs to me i have a trans blorbo i can in fact make suffer with me

and while im projecting, why not give leo my habit of announcing his predicament in the funniest way possible

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise leo #rise donnie #my art #this is my go to way of saying im on my cycle #my siblings are entirely unimpressed and used to it #leos family is too #but between the immense injuries he got during the invasion and everyone being kinda emotionally fragile for a bit #i think he probably skipped a couple months and wasnt in the mood to play into his usual antics when it did return #but this is long enough after it all that everyones mostly healed up #and emotionally starting to recover #and leos the sort of bitch that the louder he is the less serious the drama is #(affectionate) #so if he walks in a room and shouts that hes bleeding #its more likely hes got a papercut than any actual injury #don knows this #hense why he catches on so quick #and seeks vengance for the half-a-second of genuine concern #(tbh hes probably internally relieved to hear leo make any type of joke or dramatics again at all) #also #i dont have any personal interest in diving in depth to what a mutant turtle teenagers period looks like or involves #my boy bleeds and is uncomfy cos i am bleeding and uncomfy #(tbh in all likelihood hed not have to deal w this at all cos splints and donnie would have long since found a way to get T & other meds) #edit: moved the trans flag down a couple panels to help the pacing of the joke

[19daysmemes]

#not to be dramatic #but im very tired lately #life is hard #lmao #19 days #he tian #mo guan shan #jian yi #zhan zheng xi #brother qiu #life is a bitch

[milk-lover]

it’s been like 20 hours and I’m still legit upset about accidentally cilcking the caterpillar on bug race instead of snail like i was scrolling and i didn’t even LNOW polls were a thing yet and i hit it mid scroll as i was scrolling i hit it on ACCIDENT and i would have voted snail not fucking caterpillar and now snail is LOSING and I’m so SAD bc i CONTRIBUTED to that. I wake up in a cold sweat every night knowing that i fucked up and there’s nothing i can do about it

#bug race #polls #/lh #(im not really that upset i just like being a dramatic bitch on purpose) #tumblr let us change our responses to polls blease #the snail tag lives #I HAVE A SNAIL TAG #i love snails so much i would have NEVER chosen to vote caterpillar can you understand my pain

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OOH YEAH BABY! PARTY TIME BABY! MUSIC! DRINKS! SOCIAL PRESSURE & A PSYCHEDELIC BREAK DOWN! WELCOME TO VAMPIRE SOCIETY MOTHERFUCKER! ARE YOU SCARED? DO YOU UNDERSTAND YET? ITS OKAY IF NOT. FIRE DISSOLVED IT! ITS ALL GONE NOW. HAVE FUN!

#jrwi fanart #jrwi show #jrwi suckening #jrwi suckening spoilers #RRAAHH IM IN LOVE WITH THIS SHOW SOOO GOODDAMN MUCH!! each o these characters has STOLEN my HEART!!! #LIKE EMIZEEELLL i love emizel so much.. runnin around announcing that HE isa PRINCE while shiloh FINALLY quietly clicks the pieces together #nathan hanover you MADMAN!!! that slow dramatic guitar riff as emizel makes that announcement was so fuckin COOL UGHHHH #MR HANOVER DOES IT AGAIN just creating tracks that absoultely WORM into my MIND and HHEAARRT UUGHHGHH #emizel is so cool and so funny and so adorable UUGHH ill gush abt him more when i finally post my emizel n soda doodle page #ARTHUR FUCKING BENNET. i totally get why grizz has a hard time playing him. hes cool and stoic n its not easy to play a man o little words #BUT BBOOOY DOES HE DO IT WELL!! arthur DOES come off as so stoic n cool & it just makes his lil misfortunes all the more charming #like falling into the red fear or confrontin edward twilight or accidentally doing lsd. I LOVE THATS HES THE BAD LUCK GUY. #okay uhhu uhh i have limited room here what else should i say uhh. THE NPCS. MY GOD THE NPCS. CHARLIE U WONDERFUL MADMAN #edward twilight is SUCH a funny fucking antagonist. and supposedly his magic stuff is super scary?? SO EXCITED TO SEE MORE OF THAT #ill ramble abt mr deacon keller later eheh i have a. uh. a doodle page in the works. so in the meantime DAYBRINGER SOLOMON!! #“HERE COMES THE SUN MOTHERFUCKER!” “ILL SEE YOU IN HELL. NOT. IM GOING TO HEAVEN. BITCH.” like come on now. oh my god. i need him #BIG POWERFUL BEAST AND EVERY WORD HE SAYS HAS ME CRACKING UP. THE MUFFLED VOICE IN THE DARK BROKEN BY “LIGHT!” #TRULY HILARIOUS AND YET TRULY HORRIFYING. I FUCKIN LOVE CHARLIE NPCS SO MUCH. I HOPE WE SEE HIM AGAIN OHH MY GOOOODDD #OKAYokay. im normal now. ill talk abt the piece. if u read my tags this far then u get special secret knowledge abt the artistic process #IM VERY HAPPY WITH MY COLORS! i know they were hallucinating on drugs so i just recalled the times i did drugs & used that as my influence #REMEMBER KIDS! acid is totally fine if ur safe and responsible about it. do acid and then stare at my art for a bit trrruuust me. IT MOVES! #anyway i think thats all my thoughts here. thank you for looking at my art n thanku if ur one o the ppl that says nice things in the tags #U are LITERLY my life blood i pick up each of u n kiss u so sweetly on the head. remember to try acid!!!!

[crabs-brencil]

they would totally take smoke breaks together if they didn't hate each other

#dbh #detroit become human #connor rk800 #dbh connor #dbh fanart #dbh rk800 #rk800 #dbh gavin #dbh gavin reed #gavin reed #dbh human au #possibly 80s au? #idk im not sure how to make it more 80s-esque #bet they're bitching about hank #or nines #or fowler #honestly they would be so dramatic and gossipy #anyways #krita

[skillzissue]

No bc It’s the way that they continued calling each other by their first names , not their family names, even AFTER they were on opposite sides of war.

It’s the way that Gojo was probably never called by his first name again.

(And how after Geto died, no one called him Suguru anymore, even Gojo bc no one called HIM SATORU anymore)

#SHAKINGGG #SOBBING #AAUFHFHFJDBFHSHSHSHUSW #EVERYONE SHUT UP LET ME CRY OVER THESE FAY TRAUMATIC INCREDIBLY DRAMATIC GAY ASS BITCHES EYEUEUDHDYSHDUASHSHHSHD #IM GOING INSANNSEEEEEEEE SSNDHDHDHDJWBDEJSK #sugusato #satosugu #jjk suguru #satorugojo #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo saturo #geto suguru #jjk geto #jujutsu geto #geto x gojo #gojo x geto #suguru x satoru #skillzwontshutupmoment

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

do—

Do Howdy and Barnaby ever get together in your human au 🥺🥺

of course they do, who do you think i am

oh BOY do i have things to say about human!Laughingstock! im so unwell about them allow me to talk and talk and talk and ta-

~

so in this au they're like... the ultimate slowburn. their feelings for each other slowly simmer and grow over the course of *checks nonexistent watch* a lil over a decade i think. it's not very dramatic - just soft & silly w/ just a heap of pining and a pinch of angst for Flavor

it starts when they were teens - Howdy had a lil crush on Barnaby in middle school. and how could he not? Barnaby was cute, hilarious, and kind. at this point, they weren't friends! Barnaby knew Howdy's name, but only because they'd shared a school since elementary (as with 6/7 of the other neighbors) & speaking from experience, you just Know Those Names. Howdy slowly "grew out of" this crush, especially when the friend group started forming and he & Barnaby became actual friends.

that crush would fluctuate over the years. It starts out strong and then softens into just this hum in the back of Howdy's mind. always there, often easy to ignore, just... part of him, in a way.

Barnaby has a similar experience. when he and Howdy became friends, he got a lil crush - how could he not? Howdy was cute, laughed at all of his jokes and had a few of his own, and was endearingly eccentric. but at the time, Barnaby didn't recognize the crush for what it was. so he elected to ignore it until the crush dwindled to something easily manageable, something he wouldn't realize is still there. as with Howdy's, it'd never fully go away

and its noticeable enough to their friends that they'd all kinda side-eye how touchy Howdy & Barnaby are with each other (Barnaby is a physical guy, but damn. if Howdy is nearby they Will find a way to be touching at all times), the way they always laugh at each others jokes, the way they always ask "where's [x] / is [x] coming with" whenever the other is absent. but the group couldn't be sure if they were looking into it or not. it's too subtle. over time they get so used to it that they don't bat an eye - Howdy is Barnaby's best friend after Wally. of course they're close!

but then there's this one college party Howdy drags Barnaby to (and by extension, Wally). they're drunk off their asses, Wally's edible has kicked in, the party is pretty chill and everyone is having a decent time. all three of them are on the couch, and Barnaby and Howdy start drunk-complimenting each other. naturally, this feeds their mutual attraction, and one thing leads to another! they make out on the couch. naturally with Wally sandwiched between them, snacking on chips and committing the moment to memory (it's a surprise tool that'll help them later!) neither Barnaby nor Howdy will remember this

now, something i'd like to state for Barnaby in this au! he has had a lot of relationships - from one night stands to actually dating someone for months. sometimes the one night stands were a "he takes someone home after a date, & they leave while he's sleeping and ghost him" situation. with actual dating, the other person always breaks things off after a few weeks, if not days. it breaks Barnaby's heart a little bit every time. to the point where in his mid-20s, he just... stops dating. he avoids other people's advancements towards him, he always takes a friend with him to bars/etc as a buffer, he becomes an expert at gracefully turning people down

("why, pray tell" no one asks "do they always leave him? he's such a catch!" that he is! when he was in school, it was his friend group. he'd try to introduce his 'girlfriend' to his friends, and it'd be an immediate "eugh, you're friends with those freaks? no way!" as an adult, people found it off-putting how (by societal standards) unusually close he was with Wally. also, again, a "weird" friend group. they'd think it's too much, or just not their scene, or 'why don't you date your little blue haired boyfriend', etc. Barnaby never holds it against Wally or his friends. he has the mindset of if that person was the one, they would accept every part of Barnaby - and his friends are indeed part of him. Howdy has also dated around a little, but to a much lesser extent. he's too busy! he doesn't have time for that!)

but the ball really starts rolling in their late 20s. something the group does together - as a fun lil rare hobby - is LARPing. they get really into it! Sally made them all custom costumes, Julie helped make the weapons (like a giant sword for herself), etc etc. they fully commit to the bit (even Frank <3). so at this event's point in the timeline, Eddie is fully integrated into the clique, but that's unimportant - just to show where we are!

so they're all doing their thing, it's a pretty big LARP event - there's always way more people than our dear neighbors, yk. they're just part of the crowd! & there's a big battle hosted, the group is split between teams, but Barnaby & Howdy are on the same side! yay! during the battle, Barnaby is "mortally wounded." Howdy half-drags him away from the main battle under the cover of their teammates (including Eddie and Julie) and sits him down by the tree. now, Howdy & Barnaby are the ones who get into the roleplay the most. they get lost in the sauce! they perform the hell out of everything they do!

& since Barnaby is "dying", he really acts like it. Howdy acts accordingly, but again, they get a little too emotional, a little too into it, a little lost in the sauce. genuine tears are in their eyes, Howdy's voice is genuinely shaking a little as he holds Barnaby in his "dying moments" (Barnaby is holding the sword between his arm and his side. he has ketchup on his armor.) Eddie and Julie are getting choked up just watching this happen. and as Howdy & Barnaby look into each others' tear-filled eyes, those little feelings that have been so quiet for so long come right back babey! full force! but then they all get hit with "arrows" and have to die right there and then, and the moments over. but! both Barnaby & Howdy walk away from this LARP session grappling with Partially Realized Feelings.

Barnaby struggles with this the most, since yk at this point he's sworn off dating. he's being careful with his heart! but when he tells Wally all of this, cause he tells Wally everything, Wally's like "oh. yes, i know! remember that one college party where you two kissed for an hour". and then he goes on to point out every instance where he's thought "right, Howdy and Barnaby are in love" (bc Wally is way more observant than he lets on! he saw that shit! his peepers were peepin!)

BUT IT'S STILL A SLOW BURN BABEY!

Barnaby and Howdy don't approach each other about this. they're both in the boat of "well, i'll just keep going and see what happens" to the point where they're practically dating without ever saying anything to each other. Howdy notices how Barnaby lingers around the store more. Barnaby notices how Howdy keeps turning up at his work to talk more. (they already chat so much...) but they still! dont! say! anything! but they both Know! they're not emotionally circling each other they are Dancing to their Own Music!

and Barnaby is letting himself believe that this can work because, well... Howdy already accepts him as he is. Howdy is part of the group. Howdy loves Wally just like the rest of em. Howdy has seen Barnaby at his (presumed) worst and didn't even flinch! as for Howdy, well, he just thinks this is right! his whole life no one has really caught his eyes or heart, but Barnaby is different. he's always been in Howdy's peripherals. it feels natural to love him so deeply. Barnaby slots into his life like the final piece of a puzzle!

there's a lot of stuff that happens in this inbetween state - Howdy's store burns down & almost takes him with it, there's some family drama that needs to be handled, The Crash happens, etc etc etc - so it's a while before they "actually" get together. but they're both patient! they've waited this long, even if they didn't know they were waiting. neither of them are in a rush. they're young. they have time.

#oughhhhhh so normal about them sooooo so normal (lying) #'do you know how they get together' yes. obviously. its not dramatic or a big thing or anything #they're just at a function together - maybe there's a little late evening art show in town that wally is participating in #or an afterparty for one of sallys successful plays #but in my mind barnaby and howdy are ofc sitting together off to the side #Flirting. yk how it is. barnaby's like 'hey can i practice some pickup lines ;)' & ofc howdy agrees yk yk #they're all terrible btw. howdy laughs at every single one. barnaby is on an emotional high. the rizz is strong w this one #one thing leads to another - barnaby says a terrible line essentially asking if howdy wants to ~come home with him~ #but like. howdy agrees. and immediately the tone between them goes from lighthearted & joking to dead serious & tense #everything between them has gone unspoken until now but Now Theyre Saying It #suffice to say they leave the party early! they're giddy giggly lil bitches about it - acting like teens sneaking out yk yk #GOD THEY'RE SO FUCKING AGHHHHHH THROWING THEM FULL STRENGTH INTO A WOODCHIPPER #sorry. sorry. im calm now. thats a lie. i will proceed to explode #but anyway anyway #so that was a whole thing & basically long story short Barnaby has the morning of his dreams #Howdy makes him and Wally pancakes and they all have a nice quiet breakfast together. The Domesticity🤌 #im gonna go shove my head in a blender now. excuse me #rambles from the bog #wh modern human au #gonna leave that as the tag #but yeah their story is just! slow! its a soft descent! #meanwhile frank & eddie are stumbling through their feelings like newborn fawns #but yeah and howdy & barnaby continue to take their time #its a while before barnaby is like 'hey wanna move in with us?' #howdy '....yeah sure' #and Boom! Howdy moves in! #and they actually get married a while later without anyone but wally knowing. they do it for tax reasons initially. #since they're not ready to be Married married but! they! want! the! benefits! #they keep their own last names and dont have rings bc again! theyre not ready for that yet! #FUCK IM OUTTA TAGS I HAD MORE TO SAY! TUMBLR INCREASE YOUR TAG COUNT! AGH

[hoffmanstits-enjoyer]

feeling. Things about this.

(credits to gurokatt on twt for posting these, i still have no idea where these OG scripts come from)

#*silently reflecting spongebob meme* #dramatic ass bitch really tried to kill his crush in the fucking hospital im- #god i need a fanfic about this #'his eyes on fire' HOMOSEXUAL GAY GAY GAY #mark's fucking beyond help ur honor #i love him so fucking badly #the way it reads like he's moving faster than he's THINKING when he sees strahm. wtf couldve done hoffman???? hold his fucking hand #he. aint even aware he's trying to go with him in the ambulance. droping his act the second he sees the commotion. drawn to him. attached. #smth smth the thread of fate that binds us together (im delusional) #saw v #saw franchise #mark hoffman #peter strahm #hoffstrahm #coffinshipping #sawposting

[analogwriting]

Star-Crossed

Chapter 19: Sirds

Donquixote Rosinante x gn!reader word count: 2.6k first|next a/n: none of this chapter was planned. it started with a thought of maybe putting a flashback in here and then this happened so lmfao enjoy my improv

You slowly came to, but immediately things were wrong. You knew you had just been shot, so at the very least you should be in an insane amount of pain. That, and you expected to be in the hospital or at least Pops’ house.

Not in the middle of some fucking flower field with no pain whatsoever.

Did you die? Is this heaven? Surely that was a mistake. With all the people you had killed, you didn’t think heaven was something you deserved. Hell, you weren’t even sure it existed. You’ve seen too much ugly in the world to think there was a god that would allow things like this to happen. But if it did, you definitely didn’t deserve it.

Maybe you were just hallucinating. In the depths of your own mind. Shit, maybe you were in a coma and this was all just a dream. 

“Mamma?” You shot up, looking around as you heard a small voice. There was someone else here? You spotted a small child with their mother and your breath caught in your throat. Your eyes widened and you felt tears beginning to form.

You might not have seen her for nearly three decades and her features long since became a blur to you, but you knew your mother when you saw her. Everything seemed to come flooding back.

She was sitting with a smaller version of you in her lap. “Yes, stellina?” You felt yourself choke on a quiet sob as you heard the name she had always called you as a child. She was currently wiping away whatever you had made a mess of yourself with.

However, before you could answer, you heard a yelp and someone falling on the ground. You turned around, seeing your father slowly sitting up. He was younger and full of warmth.

“Papi!” Little you stood up, running over to where a younger version of your father had ate shit. You watched the scene unfold. Was this a memory? It wasn’t something that you could remember now. “Are you okay!?” 

Your father sat up, laughing as he dusted himself up. “Yes, angelo. Nothing’s hurt but my pride.”

“Pride? Uh oh! Does it hurt a lot? What part of the body is that?” Little you frowned as you helped your father dust himself off. He just laughed, scooping you up into his arms and covering you in kisses to which you screamed and giggled. You felt a pang in your heart as this wasn’t the father you remembered. Your father never did anything like this as much as you wish he did. It was just cold training - always at arms’ length. Was this what he was like before? Had it really been so long that you’d forgotten?

“I’m sorry you were robbed of this.” You jumped and looked to your side as you saw your mother.

“Just know that these times with you and your father were the best in my life,” she continued with a serene look on her face as she watched little you with your father. “I didn’t know your father would die the same day that I did. You deserved so much better.”

You shook your head, sniffling and wiping away your tears. “It’s fine. There’s nothing much that we can do now.” You’d already accepted this fact. You’d moved on with the help of your loved ones. Speaking of which, you knew they were probably all worried right now.

Before you could think long about this, you felt hands on your face. You blinked, noticing your mother now standing in front of you, taking your face in her hands. You studied her face, burning each detail into your mind. You were determined to remember her this time. 

“Just know, stellina, that I’m so proud of you. Despite everything that happened, you made a name for yourself and created a safe space for those who need it. I couldn’t be more over the moon with how you turned out.” There was sadness in her eyes. “I’m just sad I wasn’t able to be there to see it in person.”

She smiled, kissing your forehead. “But know, I’m always there with you, okay? You’re doing great.”

You were boardline sobbing now. You looked over as your father joined you. He was holding little you who was just watching. You didn’t know what your brain was doing right now, but it wasn’t fair. Why would it craft such a hallucination?

“I’m sorry, angelo.” You just stared at him, not knowing what to say. “You deserved more than what I have given you. Just know that the me out there isn’t me. It’s as if my soul died but my body just kept on living. All my worst parts.” He frowned deeply. “I’m sorry we left you, angelo. It wasn’t fair to you and that was never my intention.”

You just stared at him, not knowing what to say. What do you say to that? This man had your father’s face and was filled with a warmth that you’d long since forgotten, but at the same time, he felt like nothing more than a stranger.

“You have a choice, stellina.” You blinked, looking back at your mother. A choice? 

“You can stay here with your father and I. Live the childhood and life you had been robbed of. You’d revert back to your smaller age, before everything happened. Your memories wiped clean and you’d know nothing but the warmth and joy you once did.” Your eyes widened and your head began to spin. Could you really do that? Could you really go with them and live the life that you’d long since forgotten and dreamed of?

“Or, you could go back. Go back to feeling pain and sadness. Feel the betrayal of everything that’s happened. Feel everything.”

You followed your mother’s gaze and you saw yourself in a hospital bed. You looked like you were sleeping, hooked up to multiple machines. You slowly walked over to yourself, looking you over. You looked like you were on death’s door. Everything must’ve caught up to you all at once. Not properly eating, the fighting, and then there was the whole getting shot twice thing - it made sense why you looked like that.

You looked from the hospital bed to your parents. Little you was gone now, the two of them standing there, watching you. Your heart was torn. You knew exactly what this choice actually tied to. Life or death. Were you going to let go and die, going into the afterlife with your parents? Or were you going to go back? Live life without them. 

As much as you wanted to just let go and enjoy time with your parents, you knew you wouldn’t be able to. You knew that you’d never be whole. Yes, you longed for the times when you were younger. When things were simpler and happier but…you were finding your way now. You had a family now and these two were nothing but strangers to you now.

You weren’t sure that you’d fit in with them. Not to mention, this was all in your head, so that afterlife bullshit isn’t even a guarantee.

You felt someone squeeze your hand and you looked down. Little you was standing there with a large smile on their face. “Come on!” She pulled you towards your parents and you didn’t move. For a moment, you waivered. You could forget all the pain and sadness. You wouldn’t have to stress or worry anymore.

You suddenly heard someone say your name. You paused, looking around. It sounded like a whisper on the wind, you had almost missed it. You looked to your parents once more, they were standing there, waiting for your decision. Little you tugged on your hand again. “C’mon!” There was a slight whine to your little voice.

You heard your name again, more clearly this time. “Please. Come back to me.” You felt your chest tighten again and you turned, looking at the hospital bed again. You still laid there, looking even more withered than before. How much time has passed here? You were sure that time was passing faster out there.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes so you could think. You knew what you wanted. Deep down, you knew exactly what you were going to choose, but thinking about the other option was just that - a nice thought. 

You couldn’t just leave. You couldn’t leave Pops and Marco. You couldn’t leave your hospital, your staff. You couldn’t leave Corazon.  Sure, you hadn’t really grown up with much of a family, that much was clear now. You could see clearly and it was never full of love like you had previously thought. It wasn’t as warm and you weren’t as close with your father as you had thought. It had been nothing but a farce now that you looked at it. Everything was nothing more than a business deal at this point. 

However, you did have a family. People who cared about you and you cared about them. You’d always considered them family and now they were your only family. Pops had taken you in when you had nowhere to go and raised you like one of his own. Marco had treated you like the sibling he never had and you treated him like your brother. They were your family.

Not only them, but also your staff at the hospital. You considered them an extension of your family. Sure, you got under each other’s skin from time to time, but you still cared for them. And Corazon. That sweet, sweet, clumsy man. Stumbled right into your life and into your heart.

You couldn’t just leave them. Sure, if you did, you’d forget all that pain and sadness. You wouldn’t even have your memories, but you couldn’t do that to them. You couldn’t just push all your negative feelings off on everyone else who was still living. That wouldn’t be fair to them. Besides, you knew you’d have another chance to see your parents again.

You looked back to your parents and smiled. “I would love nothing more than to come with you.”

“I’m sensing a but.” Your mother mirrored your smile. You chuckled softly, nodding. “But, I have a lot of things I need to take care of and my own clumsy man to go home to.” Your father laughed loudly at that one. Your mother let out a soft laugh as well. You knew they would’ve loved Corazon had they had the chance to meet him, just as you did.

“I know that once I live out my life and I die of old age, I’ll be back here and we can all meet back up again.” 

“And make sure you bring the clumsy man too. I want to meet the man who’s won over my child’s steel heart.” Your mother grinned, grabbing your father’s hand.

“I expected nothing less. Just remember, we’re always with you and we love you so much, stellina. We couldn’t be more proud.”

A bright light flashed and they were gone. You felt yourself crying again, but you didn’t regret your decision. You turned, the scene around you changing. You were standing in the hospital room now, next to your bed. Just as before, you were laying in the bed, looking worse for wear. Only now you could see everyone else.

Corazon was in a chair right next to you, holding your hand and his head on your leg as he slept. Must’ve been the middle of the night. You saw Marco come in for a moment to check the machines before pausing. He looked down at you and you could see the worry and hurt in his eyes. You felt terrible for worrying everyone like this. You should’ve been more cautious. More careful.

“Don’t blame yourself.” You stopped, staring at Corazon who had shifted in his sleep. Was he sleep talking right now? How did he know? Was it just a coincidence? Linking of subconsciousness? Okay, maybe you needed to stop reading so many afterlife theory articles.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. “Doctor, you’re needed down the hall…are they doing any better?” You turned around, seeing Law in the doorway. Well, at least it seems that things have returned to normal. Everyone is able to work comfortably at the hospital again.

“Things haven’t changed. At this rate, we’ve tried everything. It’s up to y/n now. They’ve gotta fight the good fight and come back.” Marco sighed, giving a small chuckle. You could hear and see how exhausted he was. You knew he was running the hospital solo right now and that wasn’t easy. Sure, you’d done it before but this was your hospital. You’ve also had Marco to lean on the last few years, so it’d been a lot better. Now he was dealing with the brunt of things. 

“Well, they need to hurry up and come back. I don’t know how much longer I can take of Cora’s moping.” Even though it was a statement that was supposed to be one of irritation, you could hear the concern in Law’s words. Seems like he cared in his own little way. “It’s been a month, how much longer could it take?” He frowned.

You blanched. A month? That’s how long you’ve been out? You were floored. Why the hell have you been out so long? Maybe the psychological effects of what Anthony has done to you locked you in your own mind. You didn’t necessarily process anything after it happened. You had completely shut down and then went into the heist without much time to actually go through everything. You’d read somewhere that trauma will do that and boy did you have tons of it.

“Who knows. Could be tomorrow, could be a year from now, hell, they could never wake up.” A deep frown set on Marco’s face for a moment before he shook it away. “But, they’re stronger than that, so I know it’ll be any day now.”

You had no idea what you did to deserve a brother like him, but you were glad he was in your life. He was your number one supporter just as you were his. Though, that title might be taken by Corazon soon enough.

You looked back at your body and you realized something. How the hell was this supposed to go? How did you get back into your body? You wanted nothing more than to go back. To wake up and put an end to everyone’s worries. To go back to the way things used to be. You groaned, burying your face in your hands as Marco and Law left the room.

After a moment, you removed your hands from your face. You walked over to yourself again. Was it just a simple touch? You weren’t sure what to do but that was all you could think of. You slowly reached out your hand, pausing for a moment, hovering over your own skin. What if this created some kind of paradox? No, that wouldn’t make sense. Yet again, what part of this did make sense?

You bit your lip, looking to Corazon sleeping next to you. He also looked incredibly rugged and not in the hot and sexy way. He looked like he hadn’t been eating well. Or sleeping well. You hoped that you’d be able to provide some relief in that. You took another deep breath, touching your own arm.

Then everything went black.

#and yes i cried while writing this bc that's what i do #but im also a dramatic bitch that cries during everything lmao #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #donquixote rosinante #donquixote rosinante x reader #donquixote corazon #corazon x you #rosinante corazon #corazon x reader #corazon #rosinante x reader #rosinante #am fics #sc

[demadogs]

my jobs getting in the way of blogging and reading fan fiction. i should quit.

#on a real note this is actually a really good job for me and im happier #if you saw that post about me being suicidal i was just being a dramatic pmsing little bitch im literally fine #i do wish i had more time to make gifs and read the fic im beta reading tho #i also need to get better at running a queue omg i suck at queuing #honestly most my dash is photography not shows so i gotta stalk some source blogs if i wanna get a good consistant queue going #im gonna tag byler for funzies #byler #i havent checked that tag in so long… how are you bitches